Nineteenth-century prima donnas were continually on the move, and making a living as a famous diva meant travelling as far and as wide as possible under conditions that were not always terribly pleasant. Pauline Viardot’s life was no exception to this rule. Her journeys have been amply documented by her biographers with the intriguing exception of one of the most important trips she took in the later years of her operatic career: during the months straddling 1857 and 1858, Viardot visited Warsaw and various cities in Germany, where she appeared in opera productions as well as in public and private concerts. While she was away, she wrote to her husband Louis every day—long, chatty letters that often filled numerous pages. Throughout each of these communications she wove detailed descriptions about the music she sang, the people she encountered, and the money she earned. These letters, in other words, provide a clear and nearly unprecedented picture of the life of a nineteenth-century virtuosa on the road. In this article, the focus is on the letters that she wrote to Louis over the course of this tour. As John Rosselli has demonstrated in the person of the nineteenth-century impresario, the complexities of life on the road were manifold, generating a heightened level of uncertainty and anxiety that seeped into every interaction with other artists traversing the same rocky terrain. The letters Viardot wrote during her trip to Warsaw and Germany provide a vivid and unusually detailed picture of these vagaries from a diva’s perspective.