Dear Blog: Two Weeks, Three Countries, and a Heart Full of Magic

Dear blog,

In my last post, My Blog, With Love: Dreams Do Come True, I shared the news that the dream I had once whispered into the universe, the one I manifested as a young graduate student, was finally about to unfold. And now I’m here again, writing to you with a heart full of memories that still feel unreal.

Because yes, dear blog, I didn’t just dream it.
I lived it.
Every bit of it.

My journey began on 31st October, a date I think I’ll remember forever. My first stop was Madrid, Spain, landing at Barajas Airport. And even though it was technically just a transit stay, it felt like a soft, warm beginning, like the universe easing me gently into the adventure I’d been waiting for.

I only had a day there, but that day felt like a small exhale. A pause. A moment to let my body adjust to the cold winds that were waiting for me ahead. I spent the day doing nothing elaborate, just strolling through a quiet neighbourhood, breathing in the crisp air, and watching trees with leaves that had fallen only days before. There was something poetic about it… like autumn was giving me a quiet hug and whispering, “Welcome. Take it slow.”

Because it was Halloween, I saw little touches of decoration in hotels pumpkins, lights, tiny spooky corners and somehow, amidst my jet lag, that made me smile. I ate well, stayed warm, and felt my body preparing for the journey my heart had already begun.

The next morning, I flew to Paris.

Blog… that flight felt magical.
I had a window seat, and the sky was full of clouds fluffy, endless clouds that looked like a giant cotton world beneath me. For a moment, I felt like I was floating, suspended between the life I knew and the dream I had longed for.

And then… I landed.

Paris.
The word itself felt heavy with emotion.
I remember stepping out of the airport and thinking, “Is this real? Am I really here?”

Everything felt surreal. I was buzzing with excitement, constantly clicking pictures and videos, trying to freeze every passing second. I didn’t want to miss anything. I wanted to hold every moment tightly, like a child holding onto a precious new toy.

But in all that excitement, something slipped.

My laptop bag.

I reached my hotel bursting with joy, checked in, and only a few minutes later did my heart drop into my stomach. The bag was missing.

Instant panic.
Instant tears behind my eyes.
Instant regret.

I tried calling the Uber driver repeatedly. No answer. I raised a complaint on the app, praying desperately. Thankfully, I got a notification saying the driver had spotted the bag. But still… no response from him. And since it was a Sunday night, the city was slowly quieting down, while my thoughts grew louder and more frantic.

We went for dinner, and even though I tried sushi for the first time ever something new, something I should’ve enjoyed my mind wasn’t present. The food tasted like nothing. My heart felt heavy.

That night, I barely slept.
Every hour felt like a day.

But then morning came.

And with it, a miracle.

My colleague called to say the driver had dropped the bag at the hotel during the night. I cannot describe the relief. I felt gratitude rush through me like a wave. My hands were shaking when I held the bag again. Every little item inside felt like a gift from the universe saying, “You’re okay. You can move forward now.”

Later that day, once I had calmed down and finished some pending work, I went to see the Eiffel Tower.

Blog… how do I even put this into words?

Standing there, looking at the Eiffel Tower in real life, not in pictures, not in wallpapers, not in imagination, felt like meeting a dream face-to-face. I felt the little girl inside me, the one who used to sit in her graduation class dreaming of Paris, suddenly come alive. She was happy. She was proud. She was in awe.

I took pictures, but also kept my phone aside sometimes just to breathe it in.
To be present.
To tell myself, “You made it.”

And then, as if Paris wanted to make it even more special, the tower started to sparkle. I froze, my eyes wide, heart full. I didn’t even expect it, and maybe that’s why it felt like magic.

After that, we went to the Arc de Triomphe, another iconic and deeply symbolic monument in Paris. I spent a few quiet minutes there, just taking in its grandeur and the energy surrounding it.

From there, we decided to walk around Champs-Élysées, soaking in the Parisian night lights. We took a quick stroll past the luxury fashion stores each one glowing like a little universe of its own. After the walk, we decided it was time for dinner, so we headed to the Paris metro. It was my first time ever in an underground metro, and the experience felt amazing almost like I was becoming part of the city’s rhythm instead of just passing through it.

Dinner was at Bouillon Chartier, and the atmosphere instantly made me feel like I had stepped into a classic Paris story. I tried snails for the first time and surprisingly, I loved them. Every new experience felt like a small victory, a small celebration.

The next few days were a blend of work, event prep, attending the event, and exploring the city every night through different cuisines. Paris in winter felt like a living painting cold but comforting, quiet but full of emotions.

Then came the next chapter: Tunisia.

We flew there on the sixth day, and as soon as we landed, I felt a completely different warmth. The weather was milder, the views more earthy, and the colours soft and soothing. Tunisia felt welcoming in a very grounded way.

We freshened up and went for dinner authentic Tunisian cuisine and the seafood was unbelievably fresh and flavourful. Afterward, when we went out to buy water and realized we had no local currency and the shop didn’t accept cards, we decided to skip it. But a kind local paid for it and handed us the bottles with a smile.

That small gesture touched me deeply.
It reminded me how kindness from strangers can leave lifelong imprints.

With two days free before work, we explored Tunis. On the first day, we chose fresh seafood from cold storage, enjoyed the meal, and then visited Sidi Bou Said a place that looked like a dream carved in blue and white.

The views, the hidden spots, the little pathways everything felt like stepping into a postcard. I remember thinking, “How is this real?”

The next day was slower: a museum, the local market, some shopping, a lovely lunch, and another beautiful dinner. The remaining three days were mostly work-focused, but evenings were for exploring, chatting, laughing, and eating delicious food.

And then, after two extraordinary weeks…
I returned home on 14th November.

Dear blog, I don’t know how long the glow of this trip will stay with me but I think parts of it will stay forever. The little girl who once wished for this has finally seen it. Lived it. Felt it.

And now these memories are not just in my head they’re here, in your pages too.

Until the next story,
Your forever-dreaming, forever-grateful, always-excited storyteller Monideepa