On a clear morning the coach peels away from Milan’s stone-faced avenues and heads north, the city’s hum shrinking behind you as the Alps rise like a challenge on the horizon. By the time the Bernina Express appears—a crimson train with panoramic windows—sunlight has already picked out the serrated ridge of the Bernina massif. The rail slips into hairpin turns, the famous Brusio helical viaduct spinning the carriages gently around its engineering loop, and the mountains begin to dictate the pace: slow turns, sudden reveals, a glacier that seems to breathe.