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Uhhh… how do I even begin to explain how challenging the first few days were?

But I guess the first days in a new country are often like that.

We had just landed in Zurich and were trying to figure everything out—metros, trams, directions, tickets, grocery stores.

I looked at my mum.

She looked tired.

Confused.

Completely uninterested.

And honestly, I panicked.

We were in Switzerland!!

The country my mum had chosen.

The trip I had dreamt of for years.

After years of convincing, months of planning, cancelled flights, and endless uncertainty—we were finally here.

Wasn’t this supposed to be magical?

I kept waiting for the excitement.

The wonder.

The awe.

Instead, I found myself wondering if I had made a mistake.

Would we have been better off on a group tour?

Should I have planned this trip differently?

Why does everything feel so difficult?

For the first few days, those thoughts followed me everywhere.

But somewhere between Zurich, Amsterdam, and Paris, something changed.

Not just in the trip.

In us.

We settled into a rhythm. Our arguments settled.

My mum, who is usually shy around strangers, started talking to people.

She started enjoying the food.

She started taking interest in the little things around her.

And while I was watching her, I realised something.

My dream was slowly coming true 🧿

One of her favourite experiences was a day trips booked with GetYourGuide in the Netherlands.

To this day, she still talks about it.

We laughed.

Met wonderful people.

Let our hair down.

And for a few hours, we stopped worrying about itineraries, transport, and what came next.

Despite the language barrier, my mum found ways to connect with people.

With me constantly playing translator, conversations somehow found their way through smiles, gestures, and curiosity.

And I got to see a version of her I had never seen before.

But the thing that surprised me the most was this:

She walked 🧿

The woman who struggles to walk for long periods back home was walking through Europe.

Day after day.

Slowly.

But confidently.

And for the first time in my life, I saw the girl inside her.

Open-hearted

Ready to embrace every experience that came her way.

I have travelled to Europe before.

But I don’t remember people being this warm.

Then I realised something.

Maybe it wasn’t Europe.

Maybe it was my mum.

The trip is over now.

But we still find ourselves talking about it.

The kindness of our Airbnb hosts.

The conversations with strangers.

The food.

The laughter.

The unexpected moments that became our favourites.

And as I write this, I feel nothing but gratitude 🧿

For years, this trip existed only as a dream in my heart.

A dream for my mum who could never come out of her responsibilities.

And somehow, despite all the cancellations, uncertainty, and geopolitical tensions, it became a reality.

I don’t know what the future holds.

But I know I will never stop being grateful for these twelve days.

Because somewhere between the trams, the rivers, the long walks, and the conversations with strangers, I got to see a version of my mum I had never met before.

Because I know when we arrive in our home country, her life will return back to how it was, fulfilling her role as a mother, a homemaker, and what not

And that made the entire trip worth it.