My husband froze. His eyes glazed over—no doubt flashing back to every time I’ve tripped, stumbled, or face-planted over the years.

He didn’t want to go any farther. But the girl had already marched up and was waiting politely. I wasn’t about to be rude. My loving husband knew better than to argue when I’ve set my mind to something, so he asked me to leave my bag on the first step before climbing. I did, and carefully ascended, him right behind me, ready to catch me if I fell.

What was supposed to be a simple train journey through northern Italy turned into a scenic detour, a taxi hunt in a sleepy mountain town, and a reminder that sometimes, the best stories come from the plans that go sideways. From Civitavecchia to Tirano, with a little help from kind strangers and a lot of patience, our adventure unfolded—just not exactly how we mapped it.