With a few hours to spare after my visit to the Basilica, I spotted a pair of travelers toiling up the mountainside. I determined to track the same path skyward, towards the minute stony structure perched up there in the hills.

The journey delighted at least as much as the destination: over a sprawling river by bridge, threading my way through vineyards, and emerging at last into the sparkling air.

The nearer I advanced, the more the stony church in the sky grew in size — while down below the Basilica shrank.

My climb had carried me to la Chiesa di Santa Perpetua, once the home of monks and a resting place for travelers. I felt sorely tempted to follow the path of their pilgrimage, back into the mountains to whatever awaited there.

With the sun melting earthwards, though, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was finding my way to the train station in the dark. I had already lingered longer than was wise, reflecting there on a seat overlooking the clouds.