My grandmother called me the night before I left.
“Please don’t take the night train,” she said. I told her I might.
Later, she sent me an email: “My love, I know we spoke about the night train. If you do, and I know you will — because you crave adventure, maybe even more than I do — take my advice: Lock your backpack to the overhead, keep your passport in your pants, and, Carly, don’t forget to look out the window.”