Location: Civita di Bagnoregio, Italt
Summary: A long‑awaited visit to Civita di Bagnoregio turned unexpectedly difficult as dehydration and exhaustion set in. A kind stranger helped me when the tour guide did not, and although I saw the village, the experience reminded me to pace myself more carefully on future trips.
Today, I woke up in Civitavecchia, Italy, ready for the excursion I had been looking forward to the most on this cruise. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel brilliant when I got up, but I was still eager to see Civita di Bagnoregio. I had scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast, followed by a coffee in the ship’s central atrium, before joining the coach at 08:45. As usual, several people arrived late, and we left about half an hour behind schedule.
Coach Trip To Civita di Bagnoregio
The drive took us through beautiful countryside, and I enjoyed watching the scenery pass by. When we arrived, the coach dropped us near a public toilet so everyone could use it before we began the walk toward the bridge leading to Civita di Bagnoregio. We soon found ourselves climbing steep steps into Civita di Bagnoregio on the way to the visitor centre.
The climb took far more out of me than I expected. I was puffing like a steam train and quickly fell to the back of the group. We stopped at a monastery where the guide gave a talk, only in French, despite speaking perfect English. Thankfully, there was a small shop, and I bought bottled water as I was already feeling dehydrated. While the group listened, I sat down to catch my breath.
We continued down a long incline to the visitor centre, where we got our first view of Civita di Bagnoregio. Everyone took photos, and I asked a girl from the ship to take one of me. By this point, I felt lightheaded and very dehydrated. I realised I wasn’t well enough to continue across the bridge and up into the village, so I told the guide. He said he would walk me down to the bridge and call for a car to take me across.
The walk down the steep hill was a struggle. My breathing became difficult, and my legs felt like jelly. By the time we reached the bridge, it was obvious I couldn’t go any further. The girl from the ship asked if no one had warned me how steep the walk was, and was surprised when I told her it had been advertised as medium difficulty. The guide then told me he couldn’t get a car after all, it would take 80 minutes for the tour group to return, and that I could either wait or make my own way back.
I sat for about twenty minutes until my breathing settled and my head stopped pounding. I finished my water and tried to walk back toward the visitor centre. After only twenty paces, I had to sit again. Another twenty paces later, my breathing became laboured, my head thumped, and I felt overwhelmingly dehydrated. My legs gave way, and I stumbled onto a wall at the side of the road.
An Italian lady approached to check on me. She was from Rome, rented holiday properties, and spoke perfect English. She stayed with me until my breathing eased, then stepped into the road and flagged down a small medical cart decorated with red cross symbols. She spoke to the driver and arranged for him to take me back to the visitor centre.
The medic cart dropped me off, and I bought two more bottles of water. I felt terrible and sat for about twenty minutes recovering. The same Italian lady passed by again, climbing back up the hill, and stopped to check on me once more. When I felt stable enough, I slowly made my way back to the coach pick‑up point, stopping every twenty or thirty paces to catch my breath. Eventually, I reached the coach, used the nearby toilet, and sat on a grassy bank until the rest of the group returned, late, as usual. At least it gave me more time to recover, though I still felt exhausted, dehydrated, and headachy.
Return to the Costa Diadema
The journey back to the ship passed quickly, and I must have fallen asleep. When we arrived, I got off the coach and returned to the ship. Not once did the guide ask if I was alright, even after seeing me struggle earlier. His behaviour, leading me down the steep hill and then abandoning me, was disgraceful. If it hadn’t been for the kind lady from Rome, I don’t know how I would have made it back.
Once on board, I went straight to my cabin and fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke up, the ship had already left port, and it was about 22:00. I had missed dinner, so I simply went back to bed.
I was glad I went on the trip because I truly wanted to see Bagnoregio, and I did. But today was a stark reminder that I can’t push myself the way I used to. I need to rest more between demanding days and be more realistic about what I can manage.
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