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Saying goodbye to Juliana and Francesco inside my hotel room was bittersweet. There were tight hugs and “I love yous,” and while I was already mentally planning my return, a part of me wished we’d had just a little more time. But the next phase of the trip was calling, and honestly, I was running on fumes.

By the time I reached Civitavecchia, I was beyond tired—running on four days of barely any sleep and absolutely starving. My taxi driver turned out to be the son of an acquaintance (small world!), and he did me the greatest kindness: he took me to Burger King.

I know, I know. I was in Italy, the culinary capital of the world, eating fast food. But I was exhausted, and sometimes you just need the quick comfort of the familiar.

Arriving at Allego Turistico Port Inn felt like a homecoming. Ana was there to greet me, and we hugged like old friends. It was so good to see her again. I was staying in the same room as my last visit, but she walked me through the changes she’d made to the floor, showing me a new cozy living area—formerly a bedroom—where guests could now relax, grab coffee, or enjoy pastries. After washing up and devouring my meal, I stood by the window for a moment. I’d seen that view before, but it didn’t matter; I loved it just the same. I closed the shutters, leaving just a small crack to let the sounds of the outdoors drift in, turned on Netflix, and finally gave in to the deep sleep my body had been craving since I first touched down in Italy.

The Calm Before the Storm

I must have slept for a solid ten hours, only waking up briefly to use the bathroom before crashing right back out. When I finally got up the next morning, I felt like a new person—refreshed, rested, and ready to actually start my day.

I took my time getting ready, luxuriating in the fact that I had absolutely nowhere to be. Once I was dressed, I sent Ana a message on WhatsApp to let her know my plan: I was going to grab lunch at the bistro just around the corner. It was a short walk, maybe half a block, and one I was familiar with from my last visit.

I’ll admit, I am a creature of habit by default. I don’t mind changes, but when I’m traveling by myself, there is a specific safety and comfort in going to places I know are accessible. It takes the worry out of the equation. I was ready for the easy, familiar option.

Ana had other ideas. She messaged back almost immediately: “Mylord has better food. I’ll pick you up.” I wasn’t going to argue with the local expert. I grabbed the free drink chip she’d given me, headed outside to meet her, and let my “familiar plan” go for something better.

As I walked the short path to Mylord, I was vibrating with excitement and hunger. Burger King had served its purpose the day before, but my stomach was ready for the real deal: good Italian food.

When I walked in, the restaurant was quiet; I had the feeling they hadn’t been open long. With only a few other guests in the dining area, I was seated immediately. I started by asking for a glass of Moscato, but they were out. The server brought me a sample of a different wine instead—a Florio 1833 Zighidi Pantelleria. It was a happy accident because it ended up tasting even better than what I had originally wanted. Ana joined me just as I ordered; we shared a quick glass, toasted to my return, and then she had to head out.

And what a feast it was. I ordered the charcuterie board for an appetizer, and the presentation was unforgettable. It didn’t come on a board, but in a little wooden treasure chest. Opening the lid to reveal the meats and cheeses inside was such a cool experience. For the main course, I ordered the carbonara, and just because I couldn’t completely leave my American roots behind, I asked for a side of French fries. The carbonara was absolutely delicious—rich, creamy, and full of flavor in every bite.

I took my time finishing lunch, mentally preparing to pack and get ready for the ship the next day. As I sat there, the restaurant started to buzz with activity. I struck up a conversation with a couple who, it turned out, were booked on the same cruise as me. Since we were only allowed one free drink per table and I had an extra chip from Ana, I passed it along to some gentlemen enjoying their lunch nearby. It was the perfect, slow afternoon I needed.

For that one night, everything was calm. I got to slow down, breathe, and convince myself that my travel headaches were over.

I was wrong, obviously.

The Magic of Strangers (and Old Friends)

The next day, Ana drove me to the port, and we chatted the whole way. Saying goodbye is never easy, but I know I’ll be back. She has a customer for life—and more importantly, a friend.

The thing about traveling is that you never know who you are going to meet. I had already met two people on the plane, and the universe wasn’t done yet. While I was standing in the accessible line with the porter, I struck up a conversation with an older gentleman named Stewart. (Note to self: when you meet remarkable people, take the picture! I regret not getting one with him).

When the terminal doors opened, my porter directed me toward security. I went through, with Stewart just a few people behind me. I took the elevator up to the 2nd floor where the main check-in counters are located.

As the elevator doors opened, there was Stewart again. A worker nearby spotted his “Pinnacle” pin—the top-tier loyalty status—and immediately directed him to the VIP lounge. Without missing a beat, Stewart gestured to me and told the worker, “She’s with me.”

Just like that, I was whisked into the VIP lounge for early check-in. Stewart was incredibly kind; while we waited, he brought me a sandwich and water and told me his story. He’s originally from Scotland, lived in America until his partner passed, and now lives in Thailand. It was a reminder of how many layers people have if you just take the time to listen.

The lounge was also where the reunion officially began. Not long after arriving, I saw my friend Gladys, another solo cruiser I’d sailed with in both 2023 and 2024. We hugged tightly—she is like my big sister when we travel together, and seeing her was the perfect start to the trip.

Boarding the Odyssey

Boarding as an accessible traveler is a mix of perks and patience. Even though I was one of the first people checked in, they didn’t have a wheelchair ready for me immediately. It can be frustrating watching others get picked over you when you’ve been waiting, but eventually, it worked out. The staff member who finally assisted me was lovely—he turned out to be a bartender on the ship, and I made sure to say hello to him at his venue every time I saw him during the voyage.

I never skip the boarding photo op, and this time was no different. Right after my shoot, I ran into Jane, another friend from the 2023 cruise. More hugs ensued.

Once onboard, my scooter wasn’t there yet, so I was dropped off at the Schooner Bar. I ordered a Lavender Daiquiri to christen the trip and headed to Deck 4. That’s when the floodgates opened. I saw Anne, whom I met last year, followed quickly by Anna Marie, Keith, and Preben. This was officially our Solo Cruiser Reunion cruise. It was so grounding to see familiar faces; not long after, Ellen and Jo Ann appeared. It was hugs all around.

My room was ready at 1:00 PM. When I arrived, the hallway was chaos, filled with luggage. I spotted my bags about two doors down on the opposite side of the hall—literally six feet away from me. My stateroom attendant, who was very nice, took one look at the situation and immediately went to retrieve them for me.

The Reunion & The First Signs of Change

The official solo cruiser meetup happened at 3:00 PM in Playmakers. It was wonderful to see so many familiar faces and welcome new ones into the fold. The vibe was pure excitement—the anticipation of a fulfilled journey ahead.

But the sea had other plans. As the ship pulled away from the port, we all noticed the movement immediately. The ship was rocking back and forth—a little too much for just leaving the harbor.

The first change dropped the next morning. It turned out the decision to skip La Spezia had been made the night before due to the rough conditions, but they waited to tell us. It was one of those rare moments when the Captain’s announcement overrides the volume knob and comes blasting through the in-room speakers.

I won’t lie: I was a little disappointed. I had been looking forward to riding my scooter around La Spezia. But since I had been there before and the trade-off was an extra sea day to relax, that disappointment faded quickly.

I decided to go up to Deck 16 to record a video update about my journey so far. That’s when things got strange. Out of nowhere, I saw two red dragonflies flying straight toward me. That was odd. We were out at sea—where did they come from? Looking back, maybe they were a sign that this trip was going to be anything but ordinary.

The Long Arm of Melissa

After the initial shock of missing La Spezia, the mood on board settled. Sure, some passengers were disappointed to miss their chance to see Pisa or Florence, but I treated those two sea days like I normally do: pure fun. For a while, it felt like we were back on track. We stopped in Cartagena and Malaga right on schedule, and I let myself believe the surprises were behind us.

But on a ship, rumors travel faster than the wind.

Whispers started circulating that we weren’t going to make it to the Azores. People were talking about “the long arm of Hurricane Melissa” stretching across the Atlantic to mess with our plans.

The confirmation came after we left Malaga. The Captain announced that due to the path of the storm, the Azores were officially off the table. I won’t sugarcoat it: I was truly disappointed. The Azores had been a bucket-list destination for me, a place I had never been and was deeply looking forward to exploring. To get so close and have to turn away stung.

The Captain tried to pivot to Madeira, but there wasn’t a berth available for a ship our size on such short notice. So, Plan C it was: The Canary Islands. Specifically, Tenerife.

A Silver Lining in Tenerife

It’s funny how quickly travel emotions can flip. One minute I was mourning the Azores, and the next, I realized: Wait, I’ve always wanted to go to the Canary Islands.

My disappointment morphed into excitement almost instantly. Tenerife turned out to be a stunning consolation prize. Instead of paying the high prices for a cruise line excursion, I joined a walking tour with Gladys and a few other solo cruisers. Best of all, I was able to navigate the entire tour on my scooter—a huge win for accessibility. It was a “pay what you want” tip-based tour, which saved us a bundle and felt much more authentic.

The island was beautiful, the company was unmatched, and looking back, I have absolutely no regrets. It was a good change—one I wouldn’t have chosen, but one I’m so glad happened.

Final Thoughts: When the Detour is Better Than the Plan

This trip stands out as a first for me. In all my years of cruising, I’ve never experienced so many major itinerary changes in a single voyage.

Usually, my trips run like clockwork. When I sailed out of Italy the first time, everything went exactly according to the blueprint. The last two years sailing out of Barcelona were the same. I have a routine: I arrive a day and a half early, check into the same hotel I always use, grab a bite, and sleep off the jet lag. The next day, I get on the Hop-On Hop-Off bus, ride it to the Sagrada Família to take my pictures, and head back to the hotel to prep for embarkation. No deviations. No surprises.

But 2025? This year, almost every day brought a new surprise.

And you know what? I welcomed them. I embraced them. I realized that while I had laid out my own “perfect” plans, the universe (and Hurricane Melissa) had other plans for me—plans that I ended up enjoying even more than my own.

I truly learned the art of flexibility on this trip. Well, mostly. The only thing I was not flexible about was my clothes schedule. That remained absolute. Everything else? Totally negotiable.

I’ll be sharing a separate blog for each city I visited, with more in‑depth details.

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