
The train from Turin carried me through the rolling hills of Piedmont like a gentle prayer, each kilometer bringing me closer to a city I had never seen but somehow felt called to visit. As the locomotive slowed and the station of Asti appeared through the window, I felt that peculiar mixture of excitement and reverence that comes when you're about to step into a place where centuries of human stories have unfolded.
At the tourist information office, a kind woman handed me a town map with the warmth that seems to emanate from every corner of this ancient land. Her fingers traced the streets as she spoke, but I was already lost on the web of medieval lanes and squares printed on the paper—each line a pathway to discovery, each landmark a doorway to the past.
To see all the photos of this walk,
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