By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Day One – From Stockholm to Provence: A Friendship Reunion and a Night in the French Countryside

10 October 2025

Some journeys begin with years of planning, detailed itineraries, and endless research. Then some journeys begin with a simple click.

For quite some time, I had been keeping an eye on flight prices to Marseille, hoping that one day an irresistible deal would appear. Eventually, it did. Ryanair announced discounted fares, and without giving myself much time to overthink, I booked the ticket. Sometimes the best travel decisions are made in a matter of minutes. When you find a remarkably cheap flight, the rule often becomes book first and decide later whether you’ll actually go.

Thankfully, I went.

On the morning of 10 October 2025, I departed from Stockholm Arlanda Airport, filled with excitement and curiosity. Every new destination brings not only a change of scenery but also the possibility of discovering something new about the world and about oneself. The flight to Marseille lasted a little over three hours, passing comfortably above the clouds before slowly descending towards France’s beautiful Mediterranean coastline.

As the aircraft began its descent, an extraordinary panorama unfolded beneath the wings. Long before my feet touched French soil, Marseille had already introduced itself. The city’s famous Old Port shimmered beside the deep blue Mediterranean, while hills and rocky landscapes surrounded neighborhoods stretching in every direction. The contrast between the azure sea, the bright autumn sky, and the rugged mountains created a breathtaking canvas. Looking through the aircraft window, I immediately understood why so many artists, writers, and travelers have been captivated by southern France.

Marseille, France’s second-largest city and its oldest, has welcomed merchants, sailors, explorers, and dreamers for over 2,600 years. Founded by Greek settlers around 600 BC, it has grown into one of the Mediterranean’s most important ports. Located on France’s southeastern coast, the city is a fascinating blend of history, cultures, cuisines, and traditions. African, European, Middle Eastern, and Mediterranean influences coexist here, giving Marseille an energetic and multicultural personality unlike any other French city.

The airport itself reflected the city’s practical character. It was neither enormous nor confusing. Everything seemed straightforward, making the arrival process smooth and stress-free. The October weather was pleasantly warm, a welcome change from the cooler Scandinavian autumn I had left behind only a few hours earlier.

Waiting for me was my old friend Alain, who works at Marseille Airport. Our friendship stretches back nearly twenty-five years, making this reunion especially meaningful. The plan was simple: spend the first night at his farmhouse in the beautiful village of Lourmarin, approximately 67 kilometers from Marseille, just north of the elegant city of Aix-en-Provence.

Aix-en-Provence, often simply called Aix, is renowned for its graceful boulevards, charming fountains, colourful markets, and artistic heritage. It was also the birthplace of the famous painter Paul Cézanne, whose works were inspired by the landscapes of Provence. The region surrounding Aix and Lourmarin is famous for lavender fields, vineyards, olive groves, and picturesque villages that seem untouched by time.

I stepped outside the airport terminal into the warm Mediterranean air. Alain was slightly delayed because of traffic, but soon arrived with his younger daughter, Julia. Seeing familiar faces after arriving in a foreign country always brings a special comfort. Their kindness in coming to collect me made me feel less like a visitor and more like a family friend returning after a long absence.

We began driving towards Lourmarin, but our plans soon changed.

Alain explained that their friends were waiting in Marseille’s city centre and hoped to meet us before we left. They were Amani, originally from Tunisia, and Maya, from Syria. Without hesitation, Alain steered the car back towards downtown Marseille.

Like many European cities on a Friday evening, Marseille was preparing for the weekend. Traffic crawled through the streets as commuters mixed with people heading out to enjoy restaurants, cafés, concerts, and gatherings with friends. Julia expertly navigated using Google Maps, calmly guiding her father through the maze of city streets until we finally reached the center.

Finding parking, however, proved to be another adventure.

After circling several streets, we eventually found space in an underground parking garage near Marseille’s magnificent Opera House. Illuminated against the evening sky, the elegant façade of the opera building looked almost theatrical itself, standing proudly among the bustling city streets.

Outside, Marseille was alive.

The sidewalks overflowed with people enjoying the beginning of the weekend. Restaurants buzzed with conversation, cafés spilled onto pavements, musicians filled the air with melodies, and laughter echoed through the narrow streets. There was an unmistakable sense that life here was meant to be enjoyed outdoors.

Our destination was Le Marmot, a relaxed and welcoming neighbourhood bar that has earned a reputation as a meeting place for locals, expatriates, international students, and travelers. More than simply serving drinks, it functions as a social hub where strangers become friends, languages are exchanged, cultures meet, and conversations continue late into the evening. It perfectly represented Marseille’s cosmopolitan spirit.

Interestingly, Alain and Julia themselves were meeting Amani and Maya there for the very first time, making all of us newcomers to the gathering.

The café was packed, with hardly an empty seat available, so we decided to find another nearby restaurant instead.

Just a short walk away, we found a casual restaurant serving an interesting mix of cuisines, including Indian, Pakistani, and Middle Eastern dishes. As we ordered our meals, I noticed that the young man taking orders and preparing food was from Bangladesh. It reminded me once again how migration has enriched Europe’s culinary landscape, allowing travelers to experience tastes from every corner of the world.

Dinner soon turned into an enjoyable cultural exchange.

Amani worked as an IT professional and spoke fluent English and French with remarkable ease. Maya was quieter, listening thoughtfully before adding her own insights to the conversation. Around the table, we shared stories about Tunisia, Syria, France, Sweden, and Pakistan. We spoke about cultures, languages, everyday life, travel, work, and the similarities that often connect people despite their different backgrounds.

It struck me how travel continually creates these unexpected encounters. A few hours earlier, I had been sitting on an airplane. Now I was sharing dinner with people whose life stories stretched across several continents.

As enjoyable as the evening was, the following day promised another long adventure, so eventually we said our goodbyes and left Marseille behind.

Escaping the city’s Friday evening traffic required some patience, but once we reached the open roads of Provence, everything changed. The busy streets gave way to the peaceful countryside. Alain drove carefully while we chatted, and French songs played softly through the car speakers, adding a pleasant soundtrack to the journey through the dark Provençal landscape.

Around eleven o’clock at night, we finally arrived in Lourmarin.

Nestled in the heart of the Luberon Regional Natural Park, Lourmarin is often considered one of the most beautiful villages in France. During the summer months, its narrow streets overflow with tourists, artists, cafés, markets, and cultural festivals. By October, however, the crowds had largely disappeared, allowing the village to reveal a quieter, more authentic charm.

Personally, I preferred it this way.

The peaceful atmosphere made every stone street feel timeless. At the centre of the village stood the beautifully illuminated Renaissance château, whose warm lights created an almost magical atmosphere against the night sky.

Instead of heading directly home, Alain suggested we take a short walk through the village before ending the evening.

Although most of the shops had already closed, beautifully decorated storefronts remained visible through their glass windows, showcasing the elegant French attention to detail. Window displays looked almost like small art exhibitions.

Soon, Alain’s son, Théo, joined us. He works as a firefighter in a nearby town, and together we found a cozy outdoor terrace at a local bar.

The atmosphere was wonderfully intimate. It seemed as though nearly everyone knew one another, greeting neighbours as they arrived. Sitting beneath the cool autumn sky, we talked about ordinary life, family, work, travel, and different cultures.

During the conversation, both Théo and Julia were genuinely surprised to discover that Alain and I had been friends for twenty-five years. Time has passed remarkably quickly, yet true friendships have a wonderful way of making decades feel like yesterday.

Eventually, we made our way to Alain’s farmhouse.

Waiting patiently near the parking area was Grisette, the family’s cat, who greeted us with unmistakable feline curiosity. Watching her inspect me carefully, I couldn’t help imagining her thoughts:

“Where have all of you been? I’ve been waiting forever… and who exactly is this new human you’ve brought home?”

The farmhouse itself was everything one imagines when thinking of the French countryside.

Far removed from city traffic and urban noise, it was surrounded by nature, silence, and fresh air. Only the sounds of night birds, the gentle breeze, and rustling trees accompanied the night. Inside the house, however, another kind of harmony filled the rooms, not of music alone, but of languages. English, French, Swedish, and even Sindhi flowed naturally through our conversations, creating a delightful multilingual symphony.

The living room immediately caught my attention. A beautiful piano stood quietly in one corner, while a fireplace promised warmth during winter evenings. Hanging on the wall was an antique kerosene lamp, the kind we affectionately call “Gaaslate ware baati” in Sindhi. It reminded me how ordinary household objects can unexpectedly connect distant cultures and childhood memories.

Before retiring for the night, we sat together with cups of tea, continuing our conversations a little longer. There was no rush. The warmth of friendship, the peaceful surroundings, and the simple comfort of sharing stories made for the perfect ending to my first day in France.

It had been a long but unforgettable day.

As I finally drifted off to sleep in the quiet countryside of Provence, somewhere between dreams and reality, my mind wandered towards the adventures that awaited along the dazzling shores of the French Riviera. (Continues)

Read: Where History Whispers and Rivers Flow

__________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Between the Mediterranean and Memories first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Another destination, another brief rebellion against routine. For some, travel is a luxury; for others, it is a necessity of the soul, a quiet insistence that life must be experienced beyond the familiar. My journey to Kraków began in exactly that spirit.

Day One -6th September 2025: First Impressions of a Living City

The flight from Stockholm to Kraków lasted barely an hour and a half, but somewhere between the clouds and the quiet hum of the aircraft, a subtle shift occurred, the kind that only travel can bring. I had imagined Kraków to be modest, perhaps even sleepy. But as the plane descended, a different reality unfolded beneath me: a vast urban spread, punctuated by rows of apartment blocks, green patches, and the unmistakable rhythm of a city alive with history and modernity.

The weather greeted me kindly, mild, welcoming, almost conspiratorial, as if encouraging exploration.

At the airport, time slowed down as I waited for my friend Jan Mangrio, arriving from Cardiff. A cup of tea at the cafeteria turned into a companion of patience. When Jan finally appeared, the reunion was anything but quiet. Our greeting echoed a familiar “Sain” into the unfamiliar Polish air, drawing smiles and perhaps a few curious glances. Laughter, as always, came easily and loudly.

A short taxi ride took us to our accommodation, the Premium Hostel on Pomorska Street. The check-in was effortless, the reception warm and efficient. Though labeled a hostel, we had chosen the comfort of a private room, our small sanctuary in a foreign land.

Walking into the Pulse of Kraków

Our first steps into the city revealed a calm, almost meditative neighborhood. Clean roads, green surroundings. Jan remarked, with mild surprise, that it felt even more orderly than parts of the UK. But Kraków, like many historic cities, reveals itself in layers.

Armed with maps, directions, and curiously complimentary toffees from reception, we began walking along Karmelicka Street toward the Old Town. With each step, the city’s tempo increased. Quiet streets gave way to a vibrant hum. Tram tracks cut through the roads, and sleek trams glided past with rhythmic regularity, as if marking time in a city that refuses to stand still.

Near the Piasek area, we paused at the elegant Church of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a Baroque structure that stands as both a place of worship and a reminder of Kraków’s layered religious and cultural heritage. Nearby lies a curious relic: a stone slab bearing what is believed to be the footprint of Queen Jadwiga. Revered for her wisdom, humility, and charitable works, Queen Jadwiga remains one of Poland’s most beloved historical figures. Legend suggests that this imprint was left during the construction of a church, a symbolic gesture of her devotion.

Where Evening Becomes Celebration

By the time we reached the Old Town, the sun had already surrendered to evening, and the city had transformed. Cobblestone streets shimmered under warm lights. Restaurants spilled onto pavements, their menus whispering promises of flavors from around the world. Halal kebab shops stood beside European cafés; ice cream parlors competed with bustling bars.

Street performers added a poetic rhythm to the scene. On one quiet cobbled stretch, a young woman played the violin with haunting grace, her music weaving through the crowd, briefly uniting strangers in shared stillness.

Then, suddenly, the city opened up.

We found ourselves standing in the magnificent Rynek Główny, the largest medieval town square in Europe. It is less square and more of a living stage. At its center stands the historic Cloth Hall (Sukiennice), once a major hub of international trade. Nearby rises the iconic St. Mary’s Basilica, its twin towers watching over centuries of history, its trumpet call echoing every hour, a tradition that continues to this day.

The square was alive. Not merely crowded, but vibrant in a way that felt almost theatrical. A young woman approached us with an invitation to a strip club, an offer we politely declined, though we did request something else: photographs. To our surprise, she obliged generously, capturing moments with an unexpected artistic eye. In that fleeting exchange, she transformed from solicitor to storyteller.

We wandered through illuminated arcades lined with souvenir shops, their warm lights casting a nostalgic glow. Purchases could wait; we preferred to absorb first, to understand before owning.

Moments That Stay

In one corner of the square, music played, and people danced freely, children, couples, strangers. It felt like an open-air celebration without invitation. Among them, one moment stood still: a woman in a wheelchair, dancing with the help of a companion who moved her gently, rhythmically. Hands lifted, wheels turned, laughter shared. It was more than a dance; it was inclusion, dignity, and love made visible.

Elsewhere, couples walked hand in hand, dogs trotted loyally beside their owners, and horse-drawn carriages added a romantic echo of another era.

From a distance, we caught a glimpse of Wawel Castle, perched with quiet authority. A visit for another day, we promised ourselves.

A Walk Through Memory: Kazimierz

Our journey continued toward Kazimierz, once a separate city and now a district rich with Jewish heritage. Kazimierz tells stories of coexistence, tragedy, and revival. Synagogues, cafés, and art spaces now stand where history once unfolded in both beauty and pain. Walking through its streets feels like turning the pages of a living archive.

Comfort in Familiar Flavors

Hunger eventually guided us to an unexpected comfort: a Pakistani restaurant named Habibi. Despite its Arabic name, it served authentic desi cuisine. The owner, a warm-hearted man from Punjab, Pakistan, welcomed us like old friends. The food was rich and flavorful, but it was the doodah Patti tea that truly transported us back home, if only for a moment.

Closing the Day

The return journey to our hostel was long but unhurried. We paused for ice cream, captured more photographs, and even picked up a few essentials for breakfast. The city, though quieter now, still pulsed gently under the night sky.

Back in our room at Premium Hostel, conversation flowed effortlessly, reflections, comparisons, and laughter. First impressions of Kraków were unanimous: a city that surprises, embraces, and reveals itself slowly, like a well-written story.

And like all good stories, it left us wanting more.

Sleep eventually claimed us, not abruptly, but mid-conversation, as if even dreams wished to continue the journey.

Day Two- 7th September 2025: Into the Mountains, Into the Moment

Travel has its own way of reshaping plans. What begins as a carefully designed itinerary often transforms into something more spontaneous, more human. Our second day in Kraków began with such a shift.

We had booked two organized trips, one to Zakopane and another to Auschwitz-Birkenau, through a local tour company. But travel, like life, rarely unfolds exactly as planned. The Auschwitz trip was canceled due to the unavailability of an English-speaking guide. Disappointing, yes, but not discouraging. We decided we would find our own way there another day. For now, the mountains were calling.

A Morning of Simplicity

The day began in the shared kitchen of our hostel’s surprisingly large, airy space with windows opening to the outside world. Trams passed rhythmically, birds sang from nearby trees, and travelers from different corners of the world quietly prepared their breakfasts. There is something beautifully democratic about hostel kitchens: strangers sharing space, stories, and sometimes even salt.

We kept it simple: porridge, tea, and muffins, a humble meal, but one that felt complete.

On the Road to Zakopane

Soon, a tourist van arrived, already carrying a small group: an English couple with their child, a mother with her two daughters from the UK, and then us, Jan and I, bringing a touch of Sindh into this European mosaic.

Our driver doubled as a guide. His English was limited, but his gestures were expressive, almost theatrical. Communication found its way through smiles, hand movements, and shared curiosity. The sky remained overcast, adding a soft, cinematic tone to the journey.

Kościelisko: Where the Mountains Breathe

Our first stop was Kościelisko-Biały Potoka, a place that felt like a painting brought to life. Wooden houses stood quietly against the backdrop of the Tatra Mountains, their sloping roofs and rustic textures telling stories of tradition and resilience.

Sheep grazed lazily in open fields, and nearby, a small wooden hut invited us to experience something local: oscypek, the famous smoked cheese made from sheep’s milk. Inside, the air carried a rich, earthy aroma. We tasted the cheese paired unexpectedly with jam. The combination was curious yet delightful. Some in our group hesitated; others embraced it. Taste, after all, is deeply personal.

Outside, wooden benches offered a perfect pause, cheese in hand, mountains in view, and time momentarily irrelevant. Nearby, we even saw the traditional smoking process, where the cheese slowly transformed over a fire of wood into the delicacy it is known for.

Echoes of Craft- Willa Koliba

Our journey continued to Willa Koliba, a masterpiece of traditional wooden architecture and a symbol of the Zakopane style. Built in the late 19th century, it now serves as a museum preserving the region’s artistic and cultural heritage.

Equipped with headphones, we walked through its rooms, guided by stories of craftsmanship and design. Wooden carvings, tools, and furniture reflected a deep respect for nature and skill. At one point, I noticed tools that reminded me of carpenters back home, familiar shapes in a distant land. It made me smile. Cultures may differ, but hands that create often speak the same language.

Visitors from various countries moved quietly through the museum, each absorbing the narrative in their own language, yet sharing the same sense of wonder.

Gubałówka- Above It All

From there, we moved toward the heart of Zakopane, where we boarded the funicular to Gubałówka Hill. The ride itself was brief but scenic, lifting us gently above the town into a world of panoramic beauty.

At the top, the view unfolded dramatically, rolling hills, distant peaks, and a horizon that seemed endless. The place was alive with activity. Families, couples, children, and everyone seemed to be participating in the joy of the moment. There were horse rides, small attractions, cafés, and open spaces designed simply for sitting and absorbing the mountains.

One noticeable detail: a strong presence of Arab families, their warm greetings of “Salam Alaikum” creating a surprising sense of familiarity. The scent of oud lingered in the air, blending with the crisp mountain breeze. Halal food options were abundant, clear evidence of how Zakopane is evolving as a global tourist destination.

Jan, with his usual humor, referred to them as “Hajis and Hajanis,” a label that brought smiles not just to us, but occasionally to those who overheard.

We enjoyed ice cream, followed by tea, simple pleasures elevated by extraordinary surroundings. Photographs were taken, memories captured. Wooden seating areas invited visitors to pause, reflect, and simply be.

However, a small challenge emerged: many shops preferred cash over cards. A minor inconvenience, but one that added to the authenticity of the experience.

Back to the Town Below

Descending once again via the funicular, we spent some time in the lively square below before walking into the town center of Zakopane itself. Often referred to as Poland’s winter capital, Zakopane is a charming blend of natural beauty and cultural vibrancy.

A gentle stream flowed through the town, its clear waters reflecting the surrounding greenery. The streets were filled with life, tourists, locals, laughter, and movement. The mountains stood nearby, not distant, but present, like silent guardians.

We paused briefly at a familiar global landmark, McDonald’s, for a quick bite. Even in travel, there are moments where familiarity offers comfort.

A Gift of Experience

Back in the van, conversations flowed more freely now. Shared experiences had turned strangers into companions. The mother of two daughters shared that one of them had just turned eighteen, and this trip was her birthday gift.

I found that deeply meaningful. Not a material gift, but one of experience of seeing the world, of feeling it. Perhaps the most valuable kind.

Return, Rest, and the City Again

The return journey was quieter. Some of us drifted into sleep, rocked gently by the movement of the van. By evening, we were back at our hostel in Kraków.

After a brief rest and, of course, a cup of tea, we felt the familiar pull of the Old Town once again.

This time, we noticed something we had missed before: Planty Park, a green ring encircling the historic center. Built on the remains of old city walls, it now serves as a peaceful boundary between past and present, a circular embrace of nature around history.

The Old Town greeted us like an old friend. The same lights, the same music, the same vibrant energy.

Dinner once again brought us to Habibi, where familiar faces and flavors awaited. Conversations with fellow Pakistanis and the owner added warmth to the evening, turning a foreign place into something almost like home.

A Walk Along the Vistula

But the night still had one more gift.

We chose a different path back, one that led us to the banks of the Vistula River. Flowing gracefully through Kraków, the Vistula is more than a river; it is the city’s lifeline, its silent witness.

The walk along the river was calm, almost meditative. Lights from nearby bridges reflected on the water, creating a soft, shimmering glow. There were fewer people here, and that made it even more special. It felt like the city had given us a quiet corner just for ourselves.

Step by step, we walked back to our hostel, tired, but in the most satisfying way. The kind of tiredness that comes not from exhaustion, but from fullness. From living a day well.

End of Another Chapter

Back in our room, the ritual continued: tea, conversation, reflections. And then, slowly, sleep.

Another day had ended. Another story had begun.

Day Three- 8th September 2025: Between Memory and Rain

Some journeys are filled with color, laughter, and movement. Others arrive quietly, carrying a weight you cannot see but deeply feel. Our third day in Kraków was meant to be one of reflection, of history, and perhaps of understanding something far beyond ourselves.

A Morning That Turned Inward

The routine had already begun to settle in: breakfast, tea, a few light conversations, and then stepping out into the city. But this morning carried a different tone. The sky was overcast, and a gentle rain had begun to fall, as if the day itself understood where we were headed.

We walked toward the central station, Kraków Główny, intending to travel to Auschwitz. The plan was simple: take a bus or a train, arrive early, and explore one of the most significant historical sites in the world.

At the FlixBus counter, we learned that the next bus would take an hour. Time, on this particular day, felt too valuable to wait. So, we turned toward the trains, more immediate, more certain. Tickets were booked, platforms located, and soon we were seated inside a train that was already full of quiet anticipation.

A Conversation Between Stations

Across from us sat a woman reading a book, absorbed in her own world. Meanwhile, I indulged in one of my small travel habits, reading out station names as they passed. Polish names, often complex at first glance, became a kind of rhythm for me.

At the first station, she smiled.

Second, she closed her book.

Curiosity had replaced silence.

She asked how I was able to pronounce the names so accurately. I laughed. There was no method, no learning, just instinct and perhaps a bit of playful confidence. She complimented my pronunciation, and what began as a simple exchange turned into a conversation about life, travel, and purpose.

When she learned we were heading to Auschwitz, her tone softened.

“You might want to visit,” she said gently, “but it may also change how you feel.”

There was something in her words that lingered even after she stepped off the train, wishing us a good journey.

Auschwitz- Where Silence Speaks

We arrived at Auschwitz-Birkenau, a place that needs no introduction, yet resists full comprehension.

Established during World War II by Nazi Germany, Auschwitz became the largest concentration and extermination camp, where over a million people, mostly Jews, but also Poles, Roma, and others, lost their lives. Today, it stands preserved as a memorial and museum, not just of death, but of remembrance.

From the station, the path was clear. Signs guided us, and so did the flow of people, tourists, visitors, and learners. Many were walking fast, almost rushing. It soon became clear why: access, especially with an English-speaking guide, is limited and in high demand.

By the time we reached the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum, the reality was unavoidable; no tickets were available for guided tours in English. Despite starting early, we were still late.

A quiet disappointment settled in.

But we stayed.

We walked through the areas open to the public without tickets. And sometimes, perhaps, silence teaches more than guided words ever could.

Standing there, Jan and I tried to imagine the past, not as history written in books, but as lives once lived in this very space. The barracks, the fences, the pathways… everything carried an invisible echo. It was not loud, not dramatic, but deeply unsettling in its stillness.

There are places where you speak less, not because you have nothing to say, but because words feel insufficient.

Auschwitz was one of those places.

Return with Rain

After some time, we made our way back to Kraków. The rain had grown heavier now, as if the sky had fully surrendered to the mood of the day.

Back at the hostel, we did something simpler. Tea, once again, became our quiet companion. Outside, the rain continued its soft conversation with the city.

There was no urgency, no rush to explore. Just stillness.

Evening Reflections in a Wet City

Later, as the rain eased, we stepped out again toward the Old Town. The streets were wet, glistening under soft lights. Fallen leaves from nearby trees clung to the cobblestones, creating a scene that felt almost cinematic.

This time, we chose something different for dinner, a Turkish döner kebab. Warm, flavorful, and comforting, it matched the mood of the evening perfectly.

There was something about Kraków in the rain, quieter, more reflective. The usual vibrancy softened into something gentler, more intimate.

We walked slowly, without a plan. No rush to see, no checklist to complete. Just presence.

A Day That Stayed Quiet

Unlike the previous days filled with movement and discovery, this one remained calm, almost introspective. Not every day of travel needs to be loud or eventful. Some days simply ask you to feel.

And this was one of them.

We returned to our room, carrying not souvenirs, but thoughts.

No long conversations that night. No laughter echoes through the walls.

Just a quiet understanding.

And then, sleep.

Day Four- 9th September 2025: Sunlight, Goodbyes, and Gentle Endings

Every journey, no matter how vibrant, eventually leans toward a quiet conclusion. Our fourth day in Kraków carried that familiar feeling, the awareness that time here was coming to an end, even as the city still had more to offer.

Our flights were scheduled for the evening, but the day belonged to us.

Leaving, Yet Not Leaving

After breakfast, we packed our belongings, but not without a small gesture of continuity; we left behind some food items in the common kitchen for other travelers. A silent tradition of hostels, where strangers care for strangers without ever meeting.

With our bags lighter and hearts a little heavier, we stepped out once more, walking toward the Old Town, this time under daylight.

A Familiar Square, A New Perspective

We reached Rynek Główny again. Though it was a weekday, the square was alive, busy, energetic, and somehow even more revealing in daylight. The details stood out now: statues clearer, architectural lines sharper, and the rhythm of daily life more visible.

Cyclists moved effortlessly through space, weaving between tourists and locals. Arab families, once again, added a familiar warmth to the surroundings. This time, we didn’t just pass through; we paused, observed, and absorbed.

We finally gave in to the temptation of souvenirs, choosing small items to carry a piece of Kraków back with us.

Above the City- Wawel’s Quiet Authority

From the square, we walked toward the iconic Wawel Castle, a symbol of Polish pride and history. Perched on a hill overlooking the Vistula River, the castle complex is not just a structure, but a narrative carved in stone.

Once the residence of Polish kings, Wawel has witnessed centuries of coronations, decisions, and defining moments. Its courtyards, towers, and cathedral stand as reminders of a nation’s resilience and identity.

From the elevated grounds, the view stretched beautifully across the river and beyond. The city seemed calmer from above, orderly, poetic.

It was here, amidst photographs and laughter, that one of the day’s most unexpected moments occurred.

As Jan was taking my picture, a woman suddenly stepped beside me, posed naturally, and laughed:

“I can be in your photo too!”

And just like that, a stranger became part of a memory.

Her carefree spirit, her openness, captured something essential about travel itself. Moments that cannot be planned, only received.

Kazimierz in Daylight- Stories in Silence

We returned to Kazimierz, this time under the clarity of day. What had felt atmospheric at night now revealed deeper layers.

Cafés, bookstores, and souvenir shops lined the streets, many reflecting Jewish heritage. We paused outside a synagogue, its quiet presence speaking of history, faith, and survival.

Inside one small shop, a woman shared an insight: while a few hundred Jews live in the area, only a small number actively practice religion. The rest, she explained, are more cultural than religious.

It was a subtle but powerful reflection of how identity evolves with time.

An alphabet chart in Hebrew caught our attention, a simple display, yet deeply symbolic. Language, like memory, preserves what history tries to erase.

A Quiet Pause in Nature

Later, we found ourselves seated in a small park. There, time slowed again.

Birds moved freely, some swimming in the water, others perched quietly, drying their wings under the gentle sun. The scene was simple, almost ordinary, yet deeply calming. After days of movement, this stillness felt earned.

Travel is not only about seeing new places, but it is also about learning to sit, observe, and simply exist within them.

Through the Gate- Floriańska Street

Our walk continued toward Floriańska Street, entering through the iconic St. Florian’s Gate (Brama Floriańska). This historic pathway once served as a royal route, connecting the city gates to the heart of the Old Town.

Today, it is one of Kraków’s most vibrant streets, lined with shops, cafés, and a constant flow of life. Walking through it felt like moving through layers of time, where medieval walls coexist with modern energy.

Moments of Trust

Back at Rynek Główny, we sat on benches, watching birds gather and disperse, horse-drawn carriages passing by. The drivers, often elegantly dressed women, invited tourists to experience the city in a slower, more romantic way.

Amidst this, a young girl approached us. She showed a photograph of a young man and explained that she was collecting donations for his medical treatment. She accepted any currency.

Without hesitation, I offered her some Swedish currency I had in my wallet.

There was no verification, no certainty, just a moment of trust. Travel, sometimes, asks you to trust without knowing why.

A Final Quiet Corner

Our last stop was Skwer Andrzeja Wajdy, a small but meaningful space named after the renowned Polish filmmaker Andrzej Wajda. Surrounded by greenery and calm, it felt like a fitting place to pause before departure, a gentle closing note to a layered journey.

The Journey Home

From there, we made our way to Kraków Główny, had a simple lunch, and then boarded a train to the airport.

And just like that, the journey began to dissolve into memory.

Jan continued toward Cardiff.

I returned to Stockholm.

Back to routine. Back to life.

But not quite the same.

Final Reflection – What Kraków Leaves Behind

Kraków is not a city that overwhelms you. It does something quieter; it unfolds.

In four days, it showed us joy and reflection, history and modernity, silence and celebration. From the lively pulse of Rynek Główny to the heavy stillness of Auschwitz-Birkenau, from the mountain air of Zakopane to the calm flow of the Vistula River, every moment added a layer.

Some strangers became stories.

Some places became feelings.

There were simple acts like sharing tea, walking in the rain, and offering help that became memories.

And perhaps that is what truly travel is:

Not just movement across geography,

But a quiet transformation within.

Read: A Day Beyond the Marathon

___________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Where History Whispers and Rivers Flow first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

On the 30th of May 2026, Stockholm was buzzing with excitement as thousands of runners gathered for one of the city’s largest sporting events, the Stockholm Marathon. Around 25,000 participants were expected to take part, and many roads throughout the city were either closed or partially inaccessible. Driving through Stockholm that day was hardly an attractive option.

Rather than spending the day navigating traffic diversions and crowded streets, I decided to do the opposite: escape the city and head toward the countryside. Accompanied by Pernilla, I set off on a leisurely road trip that would take us through picturesque landscapes, charming villages, and hidden corners of rural Sweden.

Leaving the City Behind

We started our journey on the E4 motorway, heading north. The further we drove from Stockholm, the more the urban scenery gave way to open fields, forests, and rolling countryside. After passing Märsta, we turned onto smaller country roads, leaving the main highway behind and embracing a slower pace of travel.

The weather could not have been better. The sun was shining, the temperature was pleasant, and nature was displaying its finest spring colours. Fresh green fields stretched in every direction, and the countryside seemed alive with activity.

Eventually, we arrived at Brunnby, where we visited Lina på Landet, a delightful combination of workshop, home décor store, and countryside boutique.

A Charming Visit to Lina på Landet

Lina på Landet is one of those uniquely Swedish places that blends creativity, craftsmanship, and rural charm. Visitors can browse a carefully selected collection of home goods, decorative items, handcrafted products, garden accessories, furniture, seasonal decorations, and gifts. The store reflects a distinctly Scandinavian aesthetic, simple, elegant, and closely connected to nature.

What made the visit particularly memorable was the way the shop operated. The lights were on, the displays were beautifully arranged, and everything appeared open for business. Yet the door was locked. A handwritten note on the entrance instructed visitors to ring a bell for assistance.

For someone accustomed to traditional retail stores, this felt unusual and fascinating. It was my first experience of a countryside shop where customers simply ring when they arrive. It perfectly reflected the relaxed and personal nature of rural Swedish life. After ringing, we were warmly welcomed and allowed to explore the store at our own pace.

Among the many attractive items on display, we eventually purchased a small squirrel statue, a charming reminder of the day’s adventure.

Through Fields, Forests, and Horse Country

After leaving Brunnby, we continued driving deeper into the countryside. The roads became narrower and increasingly winding. Many were barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass comfortably. Fortunately, traffic was almost nonexistent.

Now and then, however, an approaching vehicle would require careful manoeuvring and a bit of patience from both drivers. Such encounters are common on country roads and somehow add to the charm of rural travel.

Along the route, we passed numerous horse stables. Horses grazed peacefully in fenced pastures, seemingly unbothered by the world around them. Sweden’s countryside has a long association with horse culture, and seeing these magnificent animals in such natural surroundings was a pleasure.

Wildlife was equally abundant. Several groups of deer could be seen feeding in open fields. They appeared and disappeared among the trees with remarkable grace, offering fleeting glimpses of nature’s quiet beauty.

Crossing into Uppsala County

As we continued our journey, we passed through areas such as Odensala and Björksta. Gradually, Stockholm County disappeared behind us, and we entered Uppsala County.

Our destination eventually became Knivsta, a growing municipality situated between Stockholm and Uppsala. Though relatively small, Knivsta has become increasingly popular due to its convenient location and pleasant quality of life.

Surrounded by farmland, forests, and nature reserves, Knivsta offers an attractive balance between modern living and rural tranquility. The town retains much of its countryside character while benefiting from excellent transport connections to Sweden’s two largest cities. It is a place where residents can enjoy nature without sacrificing accessibility.

Discovering a Swedish Loppis

Near Knivsta, we came across a loppis at Kvarngården.

For anyone unfamiliar with Swedish culture, a loppis is much more than a simple flea market. It is a beloved social institution deeply embedded in Swedish life. The word “loppis” comes from “loppmarknad,” meaning flea market, but the concept represents sustainability, community, and the practical Swedish habit of giving things a second life.

At a typical loppis, visitors can find almost anything imaginable: books, kitchenware, toys, furniture, antiques, tools, artwork, clothing, collectibles, gardening equipment, and countless unexpected treasures.

The Kvarngården location was especially interesting because it also functions as a camping site. Caravan owners park their vehicles there, stay for a few days, and continue their journeys across Sweden. On this particular day, a few campers were staying and enjoying loppis by having coffee mugs in their hands outside of their caravans.

Stalls were set up beside cars and small tents. Families, retirees, young couples, and children all participated. Some were selling items, others were browsing, and many were simply enjoying the social atmosphere.

The event felt less like a commercial marketplace and more like a community gathering. Conversations flowed easily, children played nearby, and people exchanged stories as much as they exchanged goods.

Trust: One of Sweden’s Greatest Strengths

One of the most interesting discoveries at the loppis was finding fresh farm products for sale, including eggs from local farms. In Sweden, it is common to encounter small roadside stands offering eggs, honey, potatoes, vegetables, flowers, or homemade products.

Often, these stands are unattended.

Customers simply stop, select what they want, and transfer payment electronically using the seller’s account details or mobile payment information displayed on a sign.

The entire system operates largely on trust.

For visitors from many parts of the world, this can be surprising. Yet it reflects one of the strongest foundations of Swedish society: a high degree of social trust.

Trust reduces friction in daily life. It allows systems to function more efficiently and creates a sense of shared responsibility among citizens. While no society is perfect, the ability to leave products unattended and expect customers to pay honestly demonstrates a remarkable level of confidence between people.

When trust declines, societies often become burdened with additional controls, monitoring, and suspicion. When trust flourishes, everyday interactions become simpler and more pleasant.

The small roadside farm stands scattered throughout rural Sweden are a quiet but powerful example of this principle in action.

A Day Well Spent

As the afternoon progressed, we slowly made our way back home. The marathon crowds remained far away, confined to the streets of Stockholm, while we spent the day among fields, forests, horses, deer, country roads, and friendly people.

Sometimes the best journeys are not those that take us to famous landmarks or major attractions. Sometimes they are simple drives through unfamiliar roads, spontaneous stops at local shops, conversations with strangers, and moments of quiet appreciation for nature.

While thousands of runners were completing their marathon through Stockholm, Pernilla and I enjoyed a different kind of marathon, a countryside marathon of discovery, tranquility, and simple pleasures.

It was a day spent away from the noise of the city, surrounded by nature and authenticity, and one that will remain a cherished memory for years to come.

Read: Cities Built Upon Invisible Water

______________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post A Day Beyond the Marathon first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

The travelogue “Paan Pasiyo Pardeh” (“Seeing Foreign Lands with One’s Own Eyes”), written by Mrs. Safia Ansari, the wife of former banker Mr. Rafiuddin Junejo, is open on my computer screen, and I have been asked to write a few words about it.

In this limited span of life, I have nurtured only a few modest wishes, and among those wishes is the desire to travel across this world created by God and witness its wonders firsthand. Traveling occupies a place in my heart akin to love itself. To the best of my ability, I often share my own travel experiences with like-minded friends, but even more than that, I greatly enjoy reading, watching, and listening to the experiences of fellow travelers.

Traveling and experiencing new places is an essential part of life. Through journeys within one’s own country or across the world, a person learns about different cultures, civilizations, lifestyles, cuisines, and the everyday lives of people elsewhere. Exploring new places broadens the mind, teaches valuable lessons, and reveals many dimensions of life that might otherwise remain hidden.

Travel also allows people to disconnect from their daily routines and temporarily forget the problems and pressures of everyday life. Some experts even believe that when individuals step away from their routine environments, they often find it easier to think about and solve problems that previously seemed overwhelming. Researchers further suggest that travel significantly reduces stress levels. One survey even indicated that when people leave their familiar surroundings and embark on a journey, both the mind and body experience a kind of reset, which may contribute to a reduced risk of heart-related illnesses.

Sometimes, things that are close to us possess great value, yet we fail to recognize their importance. It is often said that we only appreciate something fully once it is absent. Likewise, when people spend a few weeks away from their loved ones and families, the physical distance temporarily interrupts regular contact, making them realize the true significance of those relationships. In this sense, travel often brings people emotionally closer to those they care about.

When parents travel with their children, the children gain firsthand exposure to how the world functions, and their confidence grows. Traveling with family and loved ones creates treasured memories that remain valuable throughout life.

Solo travel, too, has its own unique pleasures. It strengthens decision-making abilities and teaches valuable skills such as time management, communication, stress management, independent problem-solving, planning, budgeting, attempting to understand foreign languages, developing mental maturity, and becoming more adaptable. When a person travels alone, they engage in an important dialogue with themselves. They become responsible for their own food, clothing, accommodation, and overall well-being. Yet traveling with friends has its own advantages as well, providing companionship and a sense of security.

Traveling can help people develop positive habits while letting go of some negative ones. Wise observers often note that frequent travelers become adept at solving problems and are less intimidated by change. Life itself is a temporary gathering that must one day come to an end. Therefore, when individuals travel, whether alone or with family, they spend some of life’s finest moments together, creating memories that remain cherished forever. After returning home, travelers can recount their adventures to friends, reliving those moments and drawing joy from their recollections. Perhaps, through travel, one also discovers and understands oneself more deeply.

And now, let us accompany Mr. Rafiuddin Junejo and Mrs. Safia Ansari on their journey through Spain and Andorra.

This travelogue offers a comprehensive introduction to Spain and Andorra, providing readers interested in these countries with a wealth of information in one place. The reader’s curiosity is captured from the very beginning when Mrs. Safia recounts a childhood dream about Spain and recalls how a student, during her years as a college teacher, once examined her palm and predicted that she possessed a remarkably long “line of travel” in her destiny.

In my view, this is more than a mere coincidence. Destiny works in mysterious ways. First comes the passion for travel; then comes a life partner who shares that same passion; and finally, by the grace of God, come the opportunities and resources to pursue those dreams. I can confidently say that Mr. Rafiuddin and Mrs. Safia form an ideal couple who are actively fulfilling their travel aspirations and making meaningful use of their resources. The wise have spoken truly: blessed is the person whose life companion is also a companion in thought.

Reading this travelogue allows one not only to enjoy the couple’s travel experiences but also to gain fascinating historical insights into the Arab era, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, and numerous historical events. Beyond that, the book is enriched with philosophical reflections, quotations, proverbs, historical incidents, wars, and countless lesser-known facts. These elements greatly enhance both the beauty and educational value of the work.

The thorough preparation undertaken before the journey, their detailed knowledge of the destinations, arriving early at bus terminals, railway stations, and airports, carrying food supplies, and carefully observing local people and surroundings are all hallmarks of experienced travelers. Such qualities are clearly evident throughout the travelogue. This approach, especially when traveling abroad, minimizes stress and enables one to address potential problems before they become serious.

The authors vividly describe experiences aboard modern high-speed trains, buses, and ships, along with their journeys by taxi, their stays in hotels, and their visits to restaurants and cafés. These details significantly enrich the narrative.

Their practical advice about saving time and purchasing inexpensive tickets directly from Pakistan is likely to prove valuable for future travelers to Europe. Rivers, forests, plains, cities, and landscapes are portrayed with such vividness that readers may feel as though they themselves are wandering through those valleys.

One passage particularly touched me. Imagine a Sindhi couple traveling overnight by train between Spain and Portugal, with the wife telling stories to help her husband fall asleep. To me, this represents romance at its finest, a profound level of companionship, mutual respect, care, friendship, and harmony. Such a blessing has truly been bestowed upon this couple.

The travelogue provides detailed information about historical and modern sites, bridges, buildings, palaces, restaurants, cafeterias, coffee shops, beautiful parks, museums, archaeological sites, public squares, statues, famous boulevards, memorials, churches, renowned castles, mosques, monasteries, gates, valleys, rivers, and landscapes. Festivals, cultural traditions, customs, folk dances, music, and fairs are also described in detail, making the book both entertaining and educational.

The authors faithfully record many small but memorable incidents encountered during their travels. These include a McDonald’s employee in Madrid warning them about their purse, an English couple refusing to sit beside them in a cable car, attractive young women greeting them with roses, an African girl singing a Bollywood song on a train to attract attention, a ticket inspector pronouncing Córdoba as “Cardoba,” an argument among South Asians in a restaurant involving an energetic exchange of crockery, and a couple debating newspapers and knowledge. These observations are recorded with remarkable honesty and authenticity.

The story of the African girl singing an Indian song reminded me of an incident from my own life. During my university days in Stockholm, I had an Ethiopian classmate who would jokingly greet me with the famous Bollywood dialogue, “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai,” which never failed to make us laugh.

I have visited Spain several times, yet I have still not been to Madrid, Montserrat, Seville, or Toledo. Even when I visited Barcelona with my nephews, Moiz and Salar, some attractions remained unexplored. However, after reading this travelogue, I genuinely feel inspired to visit those places in the future, InshaAllah.

There is no doubt that Mr. Rafiuddin Junejo is fortunate to have a life partner with such a deep interest in and knowledge of history. That undoubtedly doubles the pleasure of traveling.

Mrs. Safia and Mr. Rafiuddin accurately observe that Pakistanis, Indians, and to some extent Bangladeshis living abroad often feel a natural closeness to one another. The book beautifully portrays nature’s splendor, including fields covered in sunflowers, groves of date palms, olive orchards, and orange plantations. The sensitivity with which Córdoba’s history is narrated is particularly commendable.

At Granada, they nearly missed visiting the Alhamra while searching for food, but fortunately, everything worked out. Based on my own experience, in such situations it is often wiser to grab a quick meal and continue walking to avoid unnecessary stress. Yet perhaps that is also part of the beauty of travel; sometimes one must rush to reach world-famous destinations, and perhaps even those moments contain hidden blessings.

The description of the Alhamra is exceptional. The stories about bumblebees, watering the gardens, throwing stones at pear trees, tales of snakes, honeybees, Moroccan mint tea, and gazing at the stars in a foreign land brought many of my own memories flooding back. Personally, I believe Granada is a city where one should spend several extra days.

Tourism experts often advise travelers to see as much of a region as possible while they are there. I noticed that Mr. Rafiuddin and Mrs. Safia followed this advice by visiting Andorra and then continuing onward to other destinations. Once one leaves a region, returning merely to see a few missed attractions can be difficult.

I felt this truth deeply while boarding a flight home from Sydney Airport. I remembered traveling through parts of Australia with my cousin Altaf. We had even considered visiting New Zealand, but ultimately did not go. Had we made a little extra effort, we might have explored that country as well. To this day, I do not know when fate will next provide such an opportunity.

The stories from Andorra make one feel that a longer stay there would have been worthwhile. Hearing about Sindhi business owners living there made my heart race with excitement. I wished I could have met them myself.

A friend of mine had a similar experience while visiting a Spanish island. He overheard people speaking Sindhi and struck up a conversation with them. One of them owned a restaurant, and throughout his stay, my friend ate there regularly. The Sindhi owners not only served what he ordered but also generously offered additional dishes out of hospitality.

Likewise, the warm hospitality shown to Mr. Rafiuddin and Mrs. Safia by a cook from Jhang, Punjab, in the beautiful Pyrenees-surrounded nation of Andorra, as well as their meeting with a sixty-year-old Sindhi woman originally from Sukkur-Shikarpur, transformed the journey into something unforgettable. Such encounters remain with travelers for a lifetime, often bringing a smile to their faces years later. Yet to experience such moments, one must first leave home and set out into the world.

Reading this travelogue also offers opportunities to better understand the poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, Allama Iqbal, and several other poets whose verses appear throughout the book.

In my view, this work is far more than a travelogue. It is simultaneously a book of history, language, poetry, humor, advice, autobiography, travel memories from Pakistan and abroad, a tourist guide, and a moving account of the romance and companionship shared by a Sindhi couple.

It occupies a unique place in Sindhi literature. Readers can draw inspiration and motivation from it, witnessing how a husband and wife become true friends, travel across countries together, fulfill their dreams, and care for one another every step of the way.

It is a beautiful reminder that the greatest journeys are not merely about the places we visit, but about the people with whom we share the road.

Read: In Search of Sindhri Mangoes

_______________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Sindhi Couple, Infinite Roads Ahead first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

The third book in the series of East African travelogues by Sain Baloch Sohbat Ali, titled “Kenya Ja Qurb” (The Affections of Kenya), is currently before me. His travel companions include Sain Mukhtiar Samoo Sahib, Junaid Dahar, Partab Shivani, and Mehmood Patoojo. In a continuously busy life, if someone with a wandering and tourist soul like mine gets a book, especially a travelogue, during the weekend holidays, it becomes a source of great joy and luxury. I am reading this book with great enthusiasm, interest, and passion, and let us see what insights and benefits can be derived from it now.

In reality, a travelogue is not merely an account of journeying from one country to another; rather, it is the art of chronicling human emotions, observations, civilizations, thoughts, and the flow of time. A good travelogue allows the reader to travel the world while sitting in their chair, introducing them to new people, new temperaments, new landscapes, and new perspectives. “Kenya Ja Qurb” feels like a similarly fragrant book, taking the reader not just to the land of Africa, but to the depths of human experiences.

First of all, the dedication of the book is unique in its nature. Generally, it is often seen that authors dedicate their books to their mother or father, but in this book, Baloch Sohbat Ali honors and dedicates his travelogue to his son, Beejal, which feels like an excellent and positive gesture. Their conversations with each other over the phone, making complaints, and then reconciling, in this scenario, both father and son, who also seem like friends to each other, must certainly feel proud of one another.

Such relationships are, in fact, the true beauty of life, where love exists not merely as a tradition but in the form of friendship. A father bestowing such an intellectual and literary heritage upon his children is a beautiful act in itself because books are not just collections of words; they transmit thoughts and feelings through generations.

Today, as I was reading this travelogue and attempting to write its preface, a cup of tea was also sitting beside me. I read in the book that Kenya ranks among the largest tea and coffee-producing countries in the world. There used to be an advertisement on TV as well, which mentioned this tea coming from those gardens of Kenya. I took a sip of the tea, smiled, and expressed gratitude to that anonymous farmer who must have cultivated this tea and cared for it all along, until it became an important element and part of the morning routine for so many other people besides myself.

Sometimes, the hard work of unknown human beings living in different countries of the world is silently integrated into our daily lives. Our single cup of tea is the result of a laborer’s hard work, a farmer’s sweat, and a long journey. Travelogues teach us to perceive such connections.

In this travelogue, one finds a very essential and excellent principle of traveling: if a traveler has to catch a bus from somewhere, they should either visit the place a day before to confirm it or ensure they leave enough buffer time so that even if they arrive at the wrong place due to a taxi driver’s mistake, they can still return and reach the correct place on time. This is exactly what happened with the friends while catching a bus from Uganda’s capital, Kampala, to the Kenyan city of Nairobi.

Travel is not actually just the name of reaching a destination, but it is also the name of patience, tolerance, management, mental preparedness, and adapting to circumstances. An experienced traveler always moves forward, keeping the estimates of time, distance, and unknown situations in mind.

This travelogue of Kenya, a country that gives the world first-class athletes in long-distance running and marathons, provides excellent information regarding its geopolitical importance, natural beauty, historical background, the production and export of its finest varieties of tea and coffee, local cuisines, clean beaches, coastal cities and islands, traditional boats, the importance of the sea and trade through that route, various cities, tribes and their traditional attire and culture, races, politics, tourism, commuting via buses and their fares, food restaurants, hotels and the dining facilities within them, languages, Swahili civilization, currency and its careful exchange (the notes of which, by law, do not feature the image of any human being), inflation and economic conditions, agriculture, greenery, lush crops, plants and their uses, botanical gardens, jungles, forests, urban forests, traditional music and its instruments, waterfalls, natural caves, cycling paths, economy, wildlife, national parks, Uhuru Park (meaning Freedom Park), statues built as monuments of freedom, open corruption, game reserves, neighboring countries, national leaders, universities, churches, the cradle of mankind, and “The Great Rift Valley” passing through this country, the beautiful lakes present there and the flamingo birds found in them, wildlife, life, animals, history and historical places, forts, UNESCO Heritage Sites, museums, customs, traditions, mountains, and climbing them as well as wandering about there.

This is precisely the marvel of an excellent travelogue; the reader feels that they are not merely reading words, but are passing through an entire world. Baloch Sohbat Ali has presented the scenes through the power of observation in this travelogue in such a manner that the reader feels themselves right in the midst of those roads, bazars, sea breezes, and wild regions.

When I read the travelogue and, in my imagination, envisioned the elephants near Mount Kilimanjaro and the interesting annual migration of animals from one country to another, that spectacle seemed extremely beautiful and naturally captivating to the heart, even in my thoughts. In reality, when a person is present there, that sight would probably leave them spellbound and petrified.

Some scenes of nature are such that they silence a human being for a few moments. There, neither language nor words; only emotion remains. Due to its wildlife and natural beauty, the land of Africa is perhaps one of those few regions in the world where humans can still see nature in its original form.

In every journey, one definitely finds something somewhere that reminds the traveler of their own homeland, and it is the author’s mastery to connect things with them so that the reader enjoys it even more. In this travelogue, there is mention of the lifestyle of people around Lal Shahbaz Qalandar and Sehwan Sharif, or the buses of Johi and Wahi Pandhi (which I myself have ridden), or the names of Sohrab Goth and bus companies, or hawkers calling out outside the bus to sell things, or the strict checking of passengers in buses lest someone might be traveling illegally. Seeing the strict checking at borders, Baloch Sohbat Ali has also written some emotional paragraphs regarding the influx of outsiders into Sindh and other matters, the summary of which is: “We are lions for our own people, but chickens in front of outsiders…” or “The homeland is a mother, so has anyone ever sold their mother?”, or examples of “suffering centuries of slavery”. Along with this, getting entangled in the manner of a Mawali (addict/eccentric), paying money to learn a lesson, and moving forward, all these things teach a lot to learn during the journey, and make this book highly interesting.

In reality, a good writer senses the fragrance of their own land even in foreign landscapes. Wherever Baloch Sohbat Ali describes the scenes of Africa, Sindh walks alongside him. This is the reason why the reader feels a sense of belonging rather than alienation in this travelogue.

In the travelogue, one also finds Sindhi proverbs, the poetry of Bhittai Sarkar (Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai) and Shaikh Ayaz, as well as a remembrance of Dadu’s tea and a mention of mangoes and rice, which only we Sindhis eat mixed. Or remembering Karachi’s Bolton Market upon seeing other markets there, or the conversation(Kachari) that takes place while sitting together among the travel companions, meaning, Sindh walks hand-in-hand in the African country of Kenya. Due to his travel companion, Partab Shivani, this travelogue also mentions the fasts of Sanatan Dharam (Hinduism), which he observes there. Baloch Sohbat Ali’s point is absolutely correct: new streets, new people, different languages, and cultures in foreign countries expand a person’s mind, making one realize the vastness of the world.

Travel makes a human being more tolerant, broad-minded, and philanthropic. When a person meets people of different colors, races, languages, and religions, they realize that the beauty of the world lies precisely in its diversity.

To understand Kenya, taking a tour of its National Museum seems quite necessary. Even just reading the description of human skulls, ancient swords, the lifestyle of humans of the ancient era, chains, earthenware, zinc and copper utensils, birds and animals (especially dinosaurs, crocodiles, turtles, large lizards), arrows, thatched houses, old tools, axes, stone knives, daggers, and spears makes the heart wish that a person must travel to Kenya one day.

Museums are, in fact, the houses of nations’ memories, where time stands preserved with its ancient signs. Such places make a human realize how civilizations were formed and how they kept journeying.

While wandering through the snake section of the museum and seeing the innocent snakes imprisoned, Baloch Sohbat Ali views them excellently from his perspective as a lawyer, as if they were some innocent prisoners of Sindh who had been pointlessly implicated in false cases, forced labor, and locked up. Nonetheless, the reader gets very interesting information regarding the types of these snakes and the potency of their venom. Useful advice is also given regarding urban forests and the efforts made by “Wangari Maathai” for environmental protection, as well as the right time of day to visit the surrounding forests.

This is also a great merit of this travelogue: the author does not merely look at the scenery, but connects everything with his social and human consciousness. The gaze of a lawyer, the sensitivity of a social being, and the curiosity of a traveler combine to make this book more vibrant.

Baloch Sohbat Ali has beautifully explained a verse of Shah Latif, which mentions the young offspring of snakes, advising not to underestimate them because even if they bite an elephant, it would not be able to move from its place. The impact of these things on human life has been presented very clearly: that some matters or problems seem small in life, for example, an enemy, an illness, or some difficulty or hardship, but they should not be considered small, because when the time comes, they can cause great damage.

This is the true beauty of literature: it generates extraordinary lessons from ordinary scenes. Explaining the intellectual depth of Shah Latif’s poetry and its relevance to modern life in this manner is of great benefit to the reader. Well done, Sir, well done! A very interesting explanation and lesson.

One joy of traveling lies in walking on foot, which the friends do during this journey, and during that walking, a person can evaluate different things, meet different people, and learn and teach many things. For instance, in this travelogue, while walking around, they accidentally watch a stage drama, meet its director, and hear him say: “No, we do not weaken writers, artists, and actors mentally and morally by providing them financial aid.” This sentence holds a very deep meaning for those who understand. The statue of Gandhi at the University of Nairobi, the meeting with the guards there, the education offered there, and the method of protest by teachers have also been beautifully presented.

Such accounts elevate a travelogue above mere sightseeing and turn it into a social document. How a society treats its artists, teachers, and writers is the true benchmark of that society’s intellectual development.

In this travelogue, the reader senses and understands that during travel, and that too in Africa, travelers must be mentally prepared to leave their comfort zone. In my opinion, not just in Africa, but whenever a person goes on any journey within the country or outside the country, one has to say goodbye to the daily comfort zone in every circumstance. It is precisely in this that the joy of traveling lies, allowing a human being to closely observe other things and the lives of other people. Through this, it also happens that a person expresses gratitude to the Almighty Lord for the facilities they enjoy in their own homeland and home.

Travel teaches humility to human beings. It tells us that the world is very vast and our experiences are very limited. Only when a person steps out of their comfort zone can they understand themselves better.

It is also read in the travelogue that, according to an Indian shopkeeper who has been living there with his family for the past fifty years, the men there only engage in flirtation and laziness, whereas the women there are hardworking. In my opinion, women across most parts of the world are hardworking. Hearing the mention of that Indian reminded me of the opportunity I got in 2006 to watch the Shandoor polo match. There, I met a local youth who looked just like us but was actually born and brought up in New Zealand; his name was Sohrab Memon. According to him, his ancestors were from Nasarpur or its surroundings in Sindh, who had first migrated from Sindh to Mombasa, Kenya, for business, and then from there, perhaps, his grandfather migrated to New Zealand. After seeing Sindh, the land of his ancestors, he had set out for tourism in the northern areas of Pakistan. No matter where a human being is, they remain connected to their homeland in one way or another, which is a very beautiful thing.

Homeland is not actually just a piece of land, but it is a collective identity of memories, language, fragrances, people, and emotions. No matter which corner of the world a human being is in, the fragrance of the soil of their land always remains alive inside them.

So in the end, it can be said that reading this travelogue provides a lot to learn and think about, which is truly a benefit. Kudos to Sain Baloch Sohbat Ali, who penned down his journey and conveyed it to other friends who will also derive benefit from this book.

“Kenya Ja Qurb” is not just the account of an African country, but it is a beautiful saga of human curiosity, observation, cultural consciousness, love for the homeland, and the desire to understand the world. This book will not only inspire the reader to travel but will also teach them how to look at the world with an open heart and an open mind. I am certain that this travelogue will prove to be a beautiful addition to the tradition of travelogues in Sindhi literature and will be read by readers with love and interest.

Read: In the Land of a Thousand Hills

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Echo of Sindh in Kenyan Affections first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• Stockholm, in particular, offers a rich tapestry of traditional bakeries and konditorier, classic Swedish cafés known for their exquisite cakes, pastries, and sweets.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

In a city like Stockholm, where modern life moves with quiet efficiency and understated elegance, there exists a parallel rhythm, one that invites you to slow down, sit back, and savor the moment. That rhythm is perhaps best captured in the Swedish tradition of fika. More than just a coffee break, fika is a cultural institution, a deliberate pause in the day to enjoy coffee, teas, drinks, pastries, and, most importantly, conversation. It is not rushed, not transactional, but deeply human.

Yet, even for those who live in Stockholm and are accustomed to its café culture, there is something uniquely rewarding about stepping outside routine and rediscovering the city as if you were a visitor. The idea of becoming a tourist in your own city carries a quiet charm. It asks you to replace familiarity with curiosity, to observe rather than simply pass through, and to appreciate what you might otherwise overlook in the busyness of everyday life.

Stockholm, in particular, offers a rich tapestry of traditional bakeries and konditorier, classic Swedish cafés known for their exquisite cakes, pastries, and sweets. The culture of baking here is not confined to professional kitchens; it lives equally in homes, where families carry forward recipes and rituals through generations. From delicate princess cakes to cinnamon buns fresh out of the oven, the Swedish relationship with baked goods is both cultural and deeply personal. For someone like me, this becomes not just an indulgence but an exploration, an ongoing journey through flavors, textures, and spaces.

This time that journey led us to Konditori Lyran, a place that feels less like a café and more like a gentle step back in time. Accompanied by Pernilla and Gun-Britt, I drove out on a short trip that took no more than twenty minutes from where we live. Despite the short distance, the anticipation made it feel like a small getaway.

Konditori Lyran is housed in a charming, historic wooden villa painted in a warm, inviting yellow, a color that seems to echo the sunlight it often basks in. Built in the early 19th century, the building carries with it a sense of history, its architecture whispering stories of a different era. Inside, guests are greeted with a delightful selection of traditional Swedish baked goods, cakes layered with cream and berries, buttery pastries, cookies, tea, sandwiches, and, of course, coffee brewed to perfection. Everything about the place feels authentic, unpretentious, and lovingly preserved.

The café is beautifully situated along the shores of Lake Mälaren, one of Sweden’s largest and most significant lakes. Mälaren is not just a body of water; it is a defining feature of the region, stretching across several provinces and dotted with islands that seem to float like quiet secrets waiting to be discovered. Its calm waters reflect the sky in ever-changing hues, and standing by its banks, one feels a sense of openness that contrasts beautifully with the compactness of city life.

As expected, parking near Lyran is limited and not free, and given its popularity, it is wise to arrive early. We were fortunate to find a spot without much difficulty, perhaps because we had timed our visit well. The weather that day was an indecisive blend of chill and warmth. In the shade, there was still a lingering coolness from the long Scandinavian winter, but in the sunlight, there was a gentle promise of spring.

We chose a table that opened toward the lake, allowing us to fully absorb the view. The seating arrangements were generous, both indoors and outdoors, accommodating a wide range of visitors. Inside, the café offered a cozy refuge for those who preferred warmth and quiet, perfect for reading a book or engaging in soft conversation. Outside, life unfolded more vividly. There were couples sharing laughter, friends catching up, and families with young children, and individuals simply enjoying their own company. It was a small but complete cross-section of humanity.

Nature, too, seemed to be in quiet celebration. After months of winter’s monochrome, the trees had begun to reclaim their green, leaves cautiously emerging as if testing the air. The ground outside the café was paved with gravel, adding to the rustic charm of the setting, with patches of grass around and small paths weaving gently in between. Beyond the immediate shoreline, the lake stretched outward, revealing one island, then another further in the distance, each adding depth to the view.

The details of the place were as captivating as the larger picture. A wooden wheel, likely once part of a horse cart, stood as a decorative relic of the past. Nearby, an old sewing machine added another layer of nostalgic character. These elements were not just decorations; they were fragments of history, quietly enriching the atmosphere. The yellow color of the building was beautifully complemented by yellow flowers scattered around, creating a visual harmony that felt both intentional and effortless.

The staff at Konditori Lyran added to the experience with their warmth and friendliness. They were attentive without being intrusive, helpful without being overwhelming, striking that delicate balance that defines good hospitality.

As we sat there, sipping coffee, tea, and sharing stories, it became clear that the experience was more than just visiting a café. It was about rediscovering a sense of wonder in the familiar. It was about allowing you to pause and see your surroundings with fresh eyes.

By the time we left, there was a quiet sense of satisfaction that we had not traveled far yet had journeyed meaningfully. Exploring your own city as a tourist may seem like a simple idea, but it carries a profound lesson: that beauty, culture, and experience are often closer than we think. All it takes is a willingness to look again.

And sometimes, all it takes is a cup of coffee and tea by the lake.

Read: The Silent Struggle of Human Life

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Be a Tourist at Home first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

I have before me the travelogue “Uganda Yatra” by Mr. Baloch Sohbat Ali, which describes his journey to Uganda, a country located on the Equator. Truly, even before beginning to read it, a sense of joy, curiosity, and excitement has already arisen within me, because through this travelogue, I too will virtually explore that country known as the Pearl of East Africa.

Although I had heard quite a bit about Uganda before, my interest deepened when I had a Ugandan friend named Kenge at an international organization, the Global Water Partnership. He later moved from Stockholm to Kathmandu, Nepal, to work with UNICEF. According to him, since Uganda lies on the Equator, its weather remains almost the same throughout the year, and people there rarely even discuss the weather.

Traveling, for me, is more than a hobby; it is a passion. And once someone falls in love with this passion, they can never truly detach from it, nor should they. In my view, this love keeps a person forever young.

As Baloch Sohbat Ali beautifully puts it, we have surrendered ourselves to wandering as if we were leaves floating freely on flowing water. In Pakistan, one often sees a delightful Punjabi phrase written on trucks: “Rul tay gaye haan, par chass aa gayi ae” (We may have wandered aimlessly, but we’ve come to enjoy it). Indeed, there is immense joy and pleasure in such wandering, no matter which corner of the world it takes place in. Imagine bidding farewell to the monotony of daily life and setting out from places like Dadu, Larkana, Ghotki, Mirpurkhas, Thar, Kohistan, Karachi, or Moro, and arriving at Lake Victoria in Uganda; surely, it would bring deep inner peace.

Dr. Muhammad Laiq Zardari once said, “Wherever you travel, document it and make it a part of history.”

Whenever travelogues are mentioned, it would be unfair not to mention Altaf Sheikh. He made a remarkable point: we should read travelogues written by our own people because their experiences are more relevant to us than those written by outsiders. For instance, an Englishman, an Arab, or a French traveler may receive a different kind of response from locals compared to us. While their accounts can certainly be enjoyable, the experiences of people like us are more practical and relatable when we plan to visit those places ourselves. Understanding how locals treat people like us is far more useful. Credit goes to Baloch Sohbat Ali for documenting his journey to Uganda and turning it into a part of history, while also providing a kind of travel guide for future visitors.

Contributors like Mukhtiar Samo sahib, Junaid Dahar, Partab Shivani, Mahmood Patojo, and the author himself suggest in this travelogue that although Ugandan visas can be obtained on arrival with a Pakistani passport, it is better to apply online in advance to avoid unnecessary complications. Another important recommendation is to get vaccinated against Yellow Fever, which is essential.

The joy of travel begins the moment we start preparing for it. On the day of departure, calling friends, coordinating locations, “Where are you?” “We’ve crossed Mehar, reach the Dadu bypass and we’ll pick you up” the journey to Karachi airport, dealing with immigration officers, exercising patience, facing challenges, observing fellow travelers’ behavior, their snoring or sleep-talking, the cheerful hospitality of Salma, her playful request in a shopping mall for Junaid Dahar to hug her in front of everyone, all these moments are lively, humorous, enriching, and full of learning.

This travelogue offers extensive insights into Uganda’s long journeys, geography, history, economy, tourism, politics, agriculture, lakes, religions, fruits, animals and wildlife, rulers, immigration system, languages, intergroup conflicts, precautions against thieves and criminals, local foods, motorcycle taxis, electrical switches, buildings such as State Life, the Supreme Court, High Court, temples, mosques, churches, museums, libraries, art and craft markets, Victoria Mall, the King’s Palace, wildlife education centers, dense forests, the source of the Nile River, botanical gardens, national parks, Independence Square, African cannibals, the howling of wolves and dogs, mosquito bites, and much more.

One valuable lesson highlighted is that if you need something, you should ask without hesitation. For example, the travelers asked permission to enter a Bahá’í temple—there is no harm in asking. Similarly, having the courage to express a desire to meet a university’s Vice Chancellor is also commendable. At various points, the poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai and Ustad Bukhari is beautifully referenced, adding depth and cultural resonance.

Interestingly, the travelogue also reveals that, like in Europe, many shops there are run by women. Another notable difference is that the weekly holiday is Friday instead of Sunday. Indians have also been living there for a long time.

After reading this travelogue, I also realized that, compared to Europe, people in Uganda may be more open to asking and answering personal questions during first meetings. They also do not seem to mind if photos of children are taken without prior permission. Additionally, the book provides excellent information about local foods and restaurants, which will undoubtedly be very useful for future travelers.

This travelogue, dedicated to the beloved Ayaz Latif Palijo of Sindh, is written in simple and clear language, making the reader feel as if they are physically present in Uganda. While reading, I strongly felt that it would have been wonderful if I had been part of that journey. The descriptions of the beautiful villages and rural life stir the heart deeply and create an urge to travel there immediately.

Keep traveling, keep documenting your experiences; this is, in a way, a service to your language and your people. As the recurring phrase suggests: Yes, indeed, the story is pleasing; this travelogue truly delights the heart.

Read: Where Forest Meets the Sea

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Uganda Yatra: A Pleasing Narrative first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

A warm arrival, familiar faces, and a walk through the vibrant soul of Naples

The evening of 7th March 2026, we arrived in Naples carried a certain kind of energy, one that did not rush to impress, but instead unfolded gradually, like a story waiting to be told. Our journey from Rome, stretching over approximately two and a half hours, was not merely a transfer between cities but a quiet transition between atmospheres. The landscapes along the way offered a gentle visual narrative, rolling stretches, glimpses of countryside life, and occasional reminders of Italy’s layered geography.

The bus itself was equipped with modern conveniences, Wi-Fi, and charging ports, small comforts that made the journey smoother. Yet, as we arrived, Naples greeted us not with polished perfection, but with a raw, lived-in authenticity. The bus stop lacked the sleek modernity one might expect in a major European city, but perhaps that was the first hint that Naples does not try to be anything other than what it truly is.

Walking into the City: First Impressions of Naples

Rather than opting for transport, Ada Jan Mangrio and I decided to walk to our accommodation at Napoli Downtown Inn, located near the port area. That half-hour walk turned out to be our true introduction to Naples.

The streets felt alive. Not staged, not curated, but genuinely alive.

We walked past elegant squares adorned with towering statues that seemed to silently narrate stories of the past. Metro stations appeared intermittently, blending modern infrastructure into a city deeply rooted in history. The hum of the streets was constant, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of Vespa engines. These iconic mopeds were everywhere, zipping through narrow lanes with an ease that spoke of familiarity and rhythm.

And then there was football, more specifically, devotion. Diego Maradona is not just remembered in Naples; he is revered. His presence could be felt in murals, posters, and conversations. It was clear that here, football transcends sport; it is identity, pride, and memory.

Settling In: Simplicity and Comfort

Our self-check-in at the bed-and-breakfast was seamless, reflecting the efficiency often found in European accommodations. The room itself was comfortable, though not without its quirks. The absence of an electric kettle was immediately noticeable, something that travelers from tea-loving cultures instinctively look for.

However, at the entrance, a modest setup offered coffee options, tea bags, and a microwave to heat water. It wasn’t ideal, but it was sufficient. And sometimes, in travel, “sufficient” becomes part of the experience, something you later smile about.

A Reunion Far from Home: The Warmth of Sindhi Bonds

After refreshing and changing, we eagerly awaited the arrival of friends. And when they did arrive, it was not just a meeting, it was a moment.

Smiles appeared, and almost instinctively, the air filled with one powerful word: “SAIN Sain Sain.”

A word that carries warmth, familiarity, and a deep sense of belonging for Sindhis across the globe.

We were joined by Pir Sumair from Nawabshah, Burhan Ali Memon, Saffan Bughio from my beloved hometown Moro, and Muhammad Waqar bhai from Karachi, an Urdu-speaking Sindhi whose name, as always, carries its full dignity when spoken. Each of them was pursuing higher education in Naples, building futures far from home, yet carrying their roots with quiet pride.

This was not our first meeting; we had previously connected during their visit to Stockholm, but meeting again in Naples added a new layer to our shared journey. There is something profoundly comforting about finding your people in a foreign land.

Saturday Night in Naples: A City in Motion

Being a Saturday evening, the city was in full swing. Naples does not ease into the weekend; it embraces it wholeheartedly.

Young people filled the streets, laughter echoed through alleyways, and the air carried a mix of music, conversation, and anticipation. There was a sense of collective release, as if the entire city had stepped out to celebrate life.

Exploring the Icons: History, Elegance, and Grandeur

As we walked, we encountered one of Naples’ historic landmarks, Castel Nuovo, a medieval castle standing with quiet authority near the port. Its massive structure, illuminated in the evening light, felt like a guardian of the city’s past.

From there, we moved onto Via Toledo, one of Naples’ most vibrant streets. It is not just a street, but it is an experience. Lined with shops, cafes, and endless human activity, Via Toledo reflects the city’s heartbeat. From luxury brands to local stalls, everything coexists in a fascinating balance.

And then came the architectural marvel that truly captured our attention, the Galleria Umberto I.

Stepping into it felt like entering a different world. With its grand glass dome, intricate ironwork, and mosaic floors, the galleria exudes elegance reminiscent of Milan’s famous galleries. Light filtered beautifully through the ceiling, casting patterns on the floor below. It was not just a shopping space; it was art, history, and culture combined.

Street Realities: Beauty and Contrasts

While modern shops and branded stores lined both sides of Via Toledo, the street also revealed another layer of urban life. Unauthorized street vendors had set up makeshift displays on the ground, selling souvenirs and small items.

There was an unspoken rhythm to it all, a “cat and mouse” dynamic where vendors remained alert, ready to disappear at the sight of authorities. Yet, it seemed almost normalized, as though both sides understood the rules of this silent game, order and survival.

Restaurants, bars, and cafes were overflowing, filled with locals and tourists alike. The city was not just busy, it was thriving.

A Taste of Home: Dinner at Mughle Azam

Amidst this Italian setting, we found ourselves drawn to something familiar, a Pakistani restaurant named Mughle Azam.

Inside, the atmosphere was lively, and the aroma of desi food instantly transported us back home. Over plates of flavorful dishes, our “kacheri” (gathering and conversation) began, filled with laughter, shared memories, and stories from different parts of life.

One small yet powerful observation stayed with me: a middle-aged woman sat alone, enjoying her meal in complete comfort. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness, just quiet confidence. I had once read that people who can dine alone with ease possess a certain mental strength and independence. Watching her, I felt that idea come to life. She seemed content, self-assured, and perhaps even quietly powerful.

The Port: Romance, Waves, and Youthful Energy

After dinner, the chill in the air reminded us that March evenings in Naples can still carry winter’s touch. We made our way toward the port area, and what awaited us there was a completely different atmosphere.

The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before us, calm yet alive. Gentle waves touched the shore, creating a soothing rhythm.

Large stones along the waterfront had become informal seating spaces. Couples sat close, wrapped in quiet conversations and embraces, creating a deeply romantic setting. Nearby, some people casually enjoyed slices of pizza, simple pleasures elevated by the sea breeze.

Teenage girls were busy recording dance videos for social media, their laughter and energy adding a modern contrast to the timeless backdrop. It was a blend of romance, youth, and everyday life perfectly coexisting.

During this time, a few of Muhammad Waqar bhai’s friends from Karachi also joined us, adding more warmth to the gathering. Even thousands of miles away from Pakistan, it felt like a small community had formed right there on the Neapolitan coast.

Closing the Night: Tea, Conversations, and Quiet Reflections

As the night deepened, we decided to return for tea at Mughle Azam. However, the restaurant was now fully packed. Despite their polite apology, we understood that it was simply too busy.

Taking that as a sign, we decided to call it a day. The next day promised a long and exciting journey outside Naples with Burhan Ali Memon, and rest was necessary.

We bid farewell to our friends with gratitude and warmth, promising to meet again soon during our stay.

Back in the room, I prepared a simple cup of tea, the kind that feels more meaningful after a long day. Sitting with Jan, we reflected on our first impressions of Naples.

It was not a city that tries to impress instantly. Instead, it reveals itself slowly, through its people, its chaos, its beauty, and its contradictions.

And somewhere between conversation and silence, we drifted into sleep, carrying with us the beginning of what was already becoming an unforgettable journey.

From Ashes to Azure: A Journey Across Time from Pompeii’s Ruins to Sorrento’s Charm and Amalfi’s Beauty

A long, unforgettable journey through history, hills, and the Mediterranean coast

Morning Resolve: Setting Out for a Day of Discovery

The second day, 8th March 2026, began with purpose.

We woke early, determined to make the most of every hour, knowing that the day ahead would demand both energy and curiosity. Breakfast was simply served at a small cafeteria across the road from our bed and breakfast. A croissant and a few coffee options. It wasn’t elaborate, but it was enough to begin a day that would soon become anything but ordinary.

Soon after, we made our way to the Municipio Metro Station, descending into Naples’ underground network, and boarded a train toward Garibaldi Station, the city’s central hub. Bustling, chaotic, and full of life, the station felt like a world of its own.

In a moment of humor and nostalgia, we began calling it “Garib Abad”, a name so familiar across Pakistan, especially in Sindh. It instantly reminded me of Garib Abad in Nawabshah, and of childhood visits to our relative Ada Qasim Soomro. Sometimes, a name is enough to bridge continents.

The Train to Pompeii: Crowds, Chaos, and Small Comforts

We met Burhan Ali Memon at the station around 9 AM, almost in perfect sync. Together, we purchased return tickets covering Pompeii and Sorrento, preparing for a tightly packed itinerary.

The station was overflowing. It seemed as though half of Naples had decided to travel that morning. The train to Pompeii was no different, crowded, suffocating, and short on fresh air. Standing for most of the journey, I found myself near the door, occasionally pressing the button to open it at stops, allowing a rush of cool air to enter. Those brief moments of freshness felt like small victories.

After about half an hour, we arrived in Pompeii, and just like that, the train emptied almost as if everyone had been drawn there by a shared curiosity.

Pompeii: A City Frozen Between Life and Death

Pompeii is not just a historical site; it is a moment preserved in time.

Destroyed during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD, Pompeii remains one of the most hauntingly beautiful archaeological sites in the world. Entire streets, homes, frescoes, and even human forms have been preserved under layers of volcanic ash, offering a deeply intimate glimpse into Roman life nearly two thousand years ago.

Walking through Pompeii is like stepping into silence that speaks

Because of time constraints, we explored only a portion of the site, the freely accessible areas, but even that was enough to leave a lasting impression. Stone pathways, remnants of homes, and fragments of everyday life stood quietly under the open sky.

Being there stirred something deeply personal in me. It reminded me of the Sindhi travelogue “Khema Khahoren” by Ishtiaq Ansari, a book I had read long ago in my childhood. Back then, Pompeii was just an idea, a distant place described in words. Standing there now, I felt the strange fulfillment of a long-held imagination finally meeting reality.

Onward to Sorrento: Through Tunnels and Anticipation

After exploring Pompeii, we returned to the station and boarded the train toward Sorrento.

This time, the journey felt slightly easier. Though initially crowded, we eventually found seats. The train passed through a series of tunnels, each one building anticipation for what lay ahead.

And then, we arrived.

As the final stop, the train emptied, leaving behind a calm that contrasted sharply with the earlier chaos.

The Bus Dilemma: Kindness, Chaos, and Missed Chances

Our next goal was Amalfi, and for that, we needed bus tickets. With the departure time approaching quickly, we rushed to the ticket machines.

But travel, as always, had its own plans.

A desi man struggled to purchase his ticket. Without hesitation, Burhan stepped in to help. Payment issues, confusion, delays, it took time, but eventually, the man succeeded and ran toward the bus.

Then came another request for help from a woman facing similar difficulties.

By the time everything was sorted, we reached the bus, only to find it full.

Standing for a long, winding journey through hilly coastal roads did not seem wise, so we chose patience over discomfort and decided to wait for the next bus, an hour later.

Sorrento: A Pause Wrapped in Beauty

That unexpected hour became a gift.

Sorrento is a town that doesn’t demand attention; it gently earns it. Perched above the sea, surrounded by hills, it offers views that feel almost painted. Narrow streets, quiet corners, and glimpses of the coastline create an atmosphere of calm elegance.

Burhan, observing his fast, remained patient and composed. Meanwhile, Ada Jan and I found a small moment to enjoy some fruits, sitting quietly and absorbing the surroundings.

There was a softness to Sorrento, a pause between the weight of Pompeii and the vibrancy of Amalfi.

The Amalfi Coast Road: Where Earth Meets Art

The next bus arrived just in time. The driver, finishing his cigarette, stepped in, and our journey began.

The bus was packed more than expected. Some passengers stood, holding onto rails as the vehicle navigated one of the most scenic yet challenging routes in Italy.

The road from Sorrento to Amalfi is not just a journey; it is an experience.

Winding along cliffs, overlooking the deep blue sea, the route offers breathtaking views at every turn. Colorful houses cling to hillsides, boats dot the water below, and the sunlight dances across the landscape in ever-changing patterns.

Vespas zipped past with confidence, locals maneuvered with ease, and tourists like us tried to capture every moment through photos, though no camera could truly do justice to what the eyes were witnessing.

Amalfi: A Town between Mountains and the Sea

Arriving in Amalfi felt like stepping into a postcard.

Nestled between steep hills and the sea, the town exists in a narrow strip of land that somehow holds an entire world within it. Known for its lemons, Amalfi celebrates them in the most creative ways, with drinks, desserts, and even presentations served in hollowed lemon shells.

We wandered through its narrow streets, climbed gentle slopes, and eventually reached the beach. The weather was kind, and people were scattered across the sand, enjoying the sun and the sea.

Everywhere, there was life, restaurants filled with tourists, cafes buzzing with conversations, souvenir shops displaying colorful memories waiting to be taken home.

There was a certain positivity in the air, and an energy that made walking feel lighter.

Moments of Stillness: Ice Cream and the Cathedral

We bought ice cream and made our way toward the Amalfi Cathedral (Duomo di Amalfi).

With its striking façade, intricate details, and grand staircase, the cathedral stands as both a spiritual and architectural centerpiece of the town. Sitting there, enjoying our ice cream, we watched the world pass by: tourists, locals, and even content creators filming their social media reels.

It was a moment of stillness in a day otherwise filled with movement.

The Return: Reflections, Risks, and Realizations

By around 5 PM, we realized it was time to head back.

The return journey mirrored the earlier one, crowded buses, winding roads, and long waits for those unable to board. At one point, we even passed an accident involving a car and a moped, fresh, recent, and a reminder of how demanding those roads can be.

Italian drivers, however, displayed remarkable control, stylish, confident, and skilled.

During the journey, we discovered that we had been overcharged at an ice cream shop. Jan contacted them, and to their credit, they apologized and promised a refund. It was a small lesson: always double-check transactions. Sometimes, cash can indeed be simpler.

Back in Naples: A Warning and a Warm Meal

We returned to Naples around 8:30 PM, tired but fulfilled.

On our way to a desi restaurant, an unsettling moment occurred. I felt two men getting uncomfortably close. Sensing something wrong, I subtly stepped into a nearby shop, signaling Jan and Burhan to do the same. The men hesitated, then awkwardly smiled and moved away.

Burhan later confirmed our suspicion; they were likely planning to snatch his bag. “It’s common here,” he said. A reminder that awareness is essential, no matter how beautiful the city.

Dinner Conversations: Stories beyond Food

At the restaurant, small details caught our attention. A uniquely designed wash basin operated by a foot pedal instead of a hand tap, efficient and hygienic. Across Italy, we also noticed that despite the availability of toilet paper, water-based cleaning facilities are thoughtfully provided.

We met a man working there, a recent arrival, educated, yet struggling. He shared his story of long working hours, from 9 AM to midnight, under exploitation by a fellow countryman. Whether every detail was exact, only God knows, but the pain in his voice was undeniable.

Travel often reveals beauty, but it also exposes realities we might otherwise never see.

Closing the Day: Gratitude and Quiet Thoughts

After dinner and tea, we made our way back.

At Garibaldi, our “Garib Abad”, we thanked Burhan Ali Memon for his company and for guiding us throughout the day. We parted ways with plans to meet the next evening.

Back in our room, fatigue settled in. Jan and I exchanged thoughts about Pompeii’s silence, Sorrento’s calm, Amalfi’s beauty, and Naples’ unpredictability.

And then, as the city outside continued its rhythm, we surrendered to sleep, carrying with us a day that felt like three journeys in one.

Capri and Connections: From Island Beauty to Brotherhood Beyond Borders

Morning Departure: Sailing Toward Capri Island

The third day, 9th March 2026, began with a sense of calm excitement.

After breakfast, we walked toward the Naples port, ready to board a ferry to the famed island of Capri. The sea breeze carried a freshness that felt different from the previous days, lighter, almost celebratory.

The ferry, large and cruise-like, was packed despite it being considered off-season. This made us wonder what peak tourist months must feel like, perhaps overwhelmingly crowded. In that moment, we silently appreciated our timing. Traveling slightly off-season, we realized, is not just economical but also deeply enjoyable.

Capri Port: The Gateway to an Island Dream

Arriving at Marina Grande, Capri’s main port terminal, felt like stepping into a carefully painted Mediterranean canvas.

The port is vibrant yet compact, lined with colorful buildings, small cafes, souvenir shops, and ticket counters bustling with activity. Boats dock gracefully, while tourists disperse in different directions, some rushing, others pausing to absorb the beauty.

We explored briefly, browsing through shops. At a jewelry store, we asked for directions to the minibus stop. Interestingly, the staff was Sri Lankan, hinting at the diverse workforce supporting tourism here.

The Journey Begins: Strategy and Small Decisions

We purchased a three-stop transport ticket, planning our route: first Anacapri, then Capri center, and finally back to the port.

However, reality demanded flexibility.

Queues for Anacapri were long, while buses to Capri center were more frequent. After a quick discussion, Ada Jan and I adjusted our plan, heading first to the Capri Center instead.

Sometimes, travel rewards those who adapt.

Capri Center: A Balcony over the Sea

The ride up to Capri Center (Piazza Umberto I) revealed the island’s charm, narrow, winding roads climbing steadily above the port.

At the center, we discovered a small yet lively town perched on the hills. The views of the sea were breathtaking, stretching endlessly into shades of blue.

What truly stood out, however, was the sense of community.

Locals greeted each other warmly with “Buongiorno,” not the touristy “Ciao.” Elderly men and women boarded buses and chatted casually with drivers, sometimes even skipping fares for short distances. It reminded us of Sindh, where familiarity often outweighs formality, where relationships soften systems.

Walking through the square and narrow streets, we noticed that many shops and restaurants were under renovation, preparing for the high tourist season. Even then, the area was lively, filled with visitors, guides, and curiouqs wanderers like us.

Anacapri: Higher, uieter, and Closer to the Sky

From Capri center, we took a bus to Anacapri, located even higher on the island.

The journey mirrored the earlier one, friendly exchanges between passengers and driver, a sense of ease and familiarity.

Anacapri felt calmer, more intimate. Its streets were beautifully decorated, lined with white buildings, flowers spilling from balconies, and quiet corners that invited slow exploration.

We encountered two police officers, a man and a woman, patrolling the area. When we asked for directions, they responded with genuine politeness, guiding us warmly. It was a small gesture, but one that left a lasting impression.

Hidden Corners: Churches and Views That Silence You

As we wandered, we passed a small, old, simple yet deeply peaceful church. Such places, often overlooked, carry a quiet spiritual weight.

Eventually, guided by locals, we reached a viewpoint.

And what a view it was.

From high above, the sea stretched endlessly, merging with the horizon in a perfect gradient of blues. The cliffs dropped dramatically, and far below, ferries moved like tiny toys across the water.

We stood there longer than planned, taking photos but more importantly, absorbing the moment.

The Trek Down: A Path of Stories

While enjoying the view, we met a young man who had trekked all the way up from the port. Breathing heavily, he asked how far Anacapri was. His effort inspired us.

So, instead of taking the bus back, we decided to trek down.

The descent was surprisingly pleasant, with gentle paths, occasional stairs, and scenic stops along the way. We passed another small church, met couples resting on their way up, and answered the same question repeatedly: “How far is Anacapri?”

Each answer carried a mix of honesty and encouragement.

We met a young Indian-Canadian couple, visibly tired and perhaps slightly regretful of their decision. Then, two energetic American boys were heading upward, full of curiosity.

These encounters reminded me of a memory from Pakistan when my brother Farooq, friends, and I once attempted to trek from Naran to Lake Saif-ul-Malook. After walking for half an hour, we asked returning travelers how far it was. Their reply: “You’re still in Naran!”

Travel, it seems, repeats its humor across continents.

Back to the Port: Full Circle

We finally reached the base at Marina Grande, completing a journey that felt both physical and reflective.

After a brief walk around the port and a few more interactions, including another Sri Lankan shopkeeper, we prepared to return to Naples.

The ferry ride back was smooth, almost meditative.

Evening in Naples: Familiar Streets, New Perspectives

Back in Naples, after a short rest and tea, we set out again.

This time, we revisited Via Toledo in daylight. The street revealed a different personality, less mysterious, more vibrant. Shops displayed their colors more boldly, and the rhythm of daily life was clearer.

From there, we entered the Spanish Quarters (Quartieri Spagnoli).

This area felt raw, authentic, and deeply human. Narrow streets lined with restaurants and cafes, chairs spilling onto the roads, balconies almost touching each other, and clothes hanging overhead, it was a living, breathing neighborhood.

It felt less like a tourist destination and more like a story unfolding in real time.

Walking the Real Naples: Beyond the Postcards

With time still on our side, we decided to walk toward Garibaldi through side streets instead of taking direct routes.

This decision opened a different Naples to us.

Away from tourist zones, the city revealed its everyday life, local shops, quiet corners, and people going about their routines. It was not polished, but it was real.

A brief drizzle caught us along the way, and we paused under trees. It was there that I received news about my maternal uncle, Mama Ghulam Nabi, being unwell and taken to the NICVD Sehwan.

For a moment, the journey paused emotionally.

Travel teaches you this, too, that life continues elsewhere, beyond the places you are exploring.

San Giovanni: A Small Sindh in Italy

From Garibaldi, we took the metro to San Giovanni a Teduccio, a quieter district of Naples.

This area, located in the eastern part of the city, is more residential and less tourist-driven. It carries a different rhythm, slower, more local.

We met Pir Sumair, Burhan Ali Memon, and Muhammad Waqar on the way and together walked toward their residence.

The SAN GIOVANNI MODEL: Unity beyond Identity

In San Giovanni, we witnessed something powerful, something worth naming.

The SAN GIOVANNI MODEL

Here, Sindhi-speaking Sindhis and Urdu-speaking Sindhis stood together, not divided by language, background, or subtle differences, but united by shared identity, mutual respect, and collective survival.

In a foreign land, they protect each other, move together, and act as a shield against challenges, whether social, cultural, or even physical.

The question naturally arises: Why is such unity easier abroad but harder back home in Pakistan?

Perhaps distance from home simplifies identity. Perhaps shared struggle builds stronger bonds. Or perhaps, in a foreign land, people realize that what unites them is far greater than what divides them.

If this model can exist in Naples, it can exist anywhere.

An Evening of Belonging: Food, Stories, and Shared Lives

At their home, we were welcomed by Saffan Bughio, Abdul Qayoom Jamali from Dadu, and Salman Habib Korai from Moro.

Suddenly, San Giovanni transformed into a corner of Sindh, echoing with laughter, familiar accents, and heartfelt conversations.

We shared fruit chaat, stories of studies, Erasmus journeys, struggles, and dreams. Those conversations were honest, no romanticizing, just real experiences.

Dinner, prepared by the friends, was exceptional. Cooking, we realized, is not just a skill; it is survival abroad. And of course, no Sindhi gathering is complete without tea.

One Last Meeting: Tea with Hamza Arain

The day still had one final chapter.

We headed back toward Naples to meet Hamza Arain, introduced through a mutual friend. A kind and thoughtful individual, Hamza, originally from Kunri, Sindh, shared his own journey and experiences.

Sitting in a small café, sipping tea, it felt as though we were back in Sindh; time slowed, conversations deepened, and connections strengthened.

The Final Ride: A Perfect Ending

As the night grew late, we discovered the metro had closed.

For a moment, uncertainty returned, but then, almost magically, a tram arrived just in time. We boarded quickly, said our farewells to Burhan, Waqar, and Hamza, and headed back.

The tram was nearly empty, a quiet contrast to the busy days behind us.

Back at our accommodation, we packed our bags, knowing the journey was nearing its end.

Reflections: What Naples Gave Us

Naples was not just a destination; it was an experience layered with contrasts and taught us that beauty can be chaotic.

Moreover, it gave us history in Pompeii and reminded us that life is fragile, nature’s artistry and beauty in Amalfi, the serenity of Capri revealed peace in simplicity, and humanity in its streets. San Giovanni proved the power of unity. It showed us risks and kindness, chaos and calm, struggle and success.

But above all, it gave us people and friendship that made this journey unforgettable.  Friends who turned a foreign land into a familiar space. Conversations that bridged continents. And a reminder that no matter where you go, your roots travel with you. One thought remained that travel is not about the places you visit, it is about the connections you carry back. And sometimes, what you understand is that home is not just a place, it is people.

As we drifted off to sleep, preparing for our journey the next day back to Stockholm and London.

Read: The Sindhi Girls in Rome

__________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post The Warmth of Sindhi Bonds first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Life, at times, presents moments that are not merely meant to be seen but to be deeply felt. While wandering through the ancient streets of the historic city of Rome, Italy, where every wall whispers a story of centuries past, we encountered a narrative that carried the familiar fragrance of our own soil.

Before bringing our journey in Rome to a close, we planned to meet two extraordinary Sindhi girls, Anoshi and her friend and business partner, Sarushka. In a foreign land, far from home, they have built a world of their own, carving out an identity through courage, relentless hard work, and the quiet yet powerful strength of their dreams.

From Kandhkot and Jacobabad to the Colosseum: A Journey Beyond Boundaries

Both young girls belong to the northern districts of Sindh, Kandhkot and Jacobabad. These regions are known for their rich cultural heritage and traditions, yet opportunities for girls to step onto the global stage remain limited.

In many parts of our society, girls are still confined within the four walls of their homes. To rise from such circumstances and establish a business in a foreign country is nothing short of extraordinary. It is not merely success; it is a statement.

Their journey proves a simple yet profound truth: when determination is strong, no destination is too distant.

Our own journey to meet them began near Vatican City. We boarded the metro from Ottaviano Station, changed trains at Termini, and got off at San Giovanni. From there, we walked through Rome’s enchanting streets, past timeless architecture, vibrant neighborhoods, and the rhythm of a living history until we finally reached their restaurant: Hungry Scholars.

Hungry Scholars: Sindhi Hospitality in the Heart of Rome

The name itself left an immediate impression. It carried a depth that went far beyond food. Hungry Scholars was not merely about satisfying hunger; it symbolized a deeper craving: for knowledge, for exploration, for learning, and for understanding the world.

In many ways, the name reflected their own lives.

Anoshi arrived even before the restaurant opened, just to greet us. Soon after, Sarushka joined. Their warmth, hospitality, and effortless smiles dissolved the distance between Rome and home. It did not feel like we were sitting in a restaurant; it felt like we were guests in a Sindhi home.

And where there are Sindhis, tea is never absent.

We were welcomed with traditional desi tea and biscuits, a simple gesture that carried profound meaning. Within moments, our travel fatigue melted away. That tea was not just a beverage; it was a bridge, connecting us to our homeland thousands of kilometers away.

From Education to Entrepreneurship: A Story of Determination

As conversations unfolded, we learned more about their inspiring journey. Both Anoshi and Sarushka studied at IBA Sukkur before moving to Rome to pursue higher education.

Studying abroad is, in itself, a formidable challenge, adapting to a new culture, language, and environment. But starting a business in a foreign country requires something far greater: resilience, courage, risk-taking, and an unwavering belief in oneself.

Their story is not just about success; it is about persistence in the face of uncertainty.

It stands as a powerful example for the youth, especially for the girls of Sindh, showing that ambition, when paired with effort, can transcend borders.

A Message for Girls: Spread Your Wings

Even today, many girls in our society see their dreams confined within the limits of their homes. Ironically, this is often true even for those who come from financially stable or well-off families. While resources may be available, freedom and encouragement are sometimes lacking.

Anoshi and Sarushka’s message is both simple and transformative:

Spread your wings, the world is far larger than you imagine.

If opportunities exist, seize them. If paths seem closed, create your own. Seek education, travel beyond familiar spaces, meet new people, and most importantly, build your own identity.

A Reflection for Families: Trust, Not Just Protection

This story is not only for daughters, but it is equally for parents and families.

Girls do not only need protection; they need trust, belief, and confidence.

Too often, families underestimate the potential of their daughters or limit their aspirations to traditional expectations, such as waiting for marriage. This narrative challenges that mindset, especially for financially stable families who have the means but may lack the vision.

If families support their daughters, trust their decisions, and encourage them to step forward, these young women can transform not only their own lives but also inspire an entire society.

Let your daughters spread their wings. Let them see the world. Allow them to study abroad, to explore, and to create their own identity.

Because when a daughter succeeds, it is not just her victory; it becomes a source of pride for the entire family, the community, and the nation.

Final Reflections: Beyond Fear, Toward Possibility

Life remembers those who dare to move beyond fear.

The journey of Anoshi and Sarushka teaches us a powerful lesson: dare to dream and then pursue those dreams with relentless dedication.

Open your wings, and you will discover that the world is far greater, richer, and more expansive than you ever imagined.

The time has come for girls to stop seeing themselves as limited and for parents to guide their daughters toward the world, not away from it.

Because when a girl rises, she does not rise alone; she lifts her family, her community, and society as a whole.

A Note for Travelers

And if you ever find yourself in Rome, make sure to visit Hungry Scholars.

There, you will not only enjoy good food but also experience something far more meaningful: the warmth of Sindhi hospitality, a sense of belonging, and a connection to home, thousands of kilometers away.

This restaurant stands as a living symbol of courage, identity, and cultural pride, an enduring testament to the strength and spirit of Sindhi girls in the heart of Rome.

Read: Democracy of Time, Inequality of Practice

_______________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post The Sindhi Girls in Rome first appeared on Sindh Courier.

A short travel narrative from 6–7 March 2026

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

From Stockholm’s Snow to Rome’s Gentle Breeze

Travel often begins with contrasts. On the morning of 6th March 2026, I left behind the icy, snow-covered landscape of Stockholm and flew south toward Italy. When the plane descended into Rome, the difference was immediately noticeable. The biting Nordic winter had been replaced by Rome’s relatively mild and pleasant weather.

As frequently happens during my travels, my friend Jan Mangrio was also joining the journey, flying from Cardiff in the United Kingdom. His flight was scheduled to arrive about an hour and a half after mine. Having some time to spare, I settled at an airport cafeteria.

Airports are fascinating places to observe human movement. Sitting with a cup of tea, occasionally browsing social media, I watched travelers arriving and departing. People moved with different rhythms, some rushing toward their gates, others patiently waiting. Among them were also travelers accompanied by dogs, calmly walking beside their owners, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise hurried atmosphere of an international airport.

Memories of Rome and an Old Friend

Whenever I think of Rome, my mind naturally returns to my friend Prem Sagar, who introduced me to the Eternal City during my first visit several years ago. Since he was not in Rome this time, he kindly connected me with a gentleman living there, Mr. Alaptageen, a warm and kind-hearted young man originally from Mansehra in Pakistan.

After completing his studies in Rome, Alaptageen started working with the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO). He invited us to join him for iftar, as the visit coincided with the holy month of Ramadan. Although he suggested that we come directly to his place, we decided to check in first at our accommodation.

A Comfortable Stay in Prati

Our bed-and-breakfast was located in Prati, one of Rome’s elegant residential districts. Developed in the late nineteenth century after Italy’s unification, Prati is known for its wide streets, orderly urban planning, and beautiful residential buildings. The neighborhood lies just a short distance from Vatican City and is popular among visitors seeking a quieter stay while still being close to Rome’s historic attractions.

After Jan arrived, we made our way to our B&B named Vatication, located near the Vatican. The journey involved a direct bus followed by a short ten-minute walk.

The self-check-in process was smooth and efficient. The place was neat, beautifully decorated, and welcoming, exactly what a traveler hopes for after a long journey.

Without wasting much time, we stepped out again to explore the nearby area.

Entering the World’s Smallest State

Within minutes, we found ourselves approaching Vatican City, the smallest independent state in the world and the spiritual center of the Roman Catholic Church.

The area around St. Peter’s Square was lively with visitors. Pilgrims and tourists from across the globe were strolling through the vast square, admiring the grand architecture and taking photographs.

Although the square was busy, it was not overwhelmingly crowded. Still, I must admit that during my earlier visit to the Sanctuary of Fátima in Portugal, I personally felt a deeper spiritual atmosphere than I experienced here.

Nevertheless, standing in Vatican City, surrounded by centuries of religious history, remains a remarkable experience.

After spending some time walking around and taking photographs, we followed the signs toward the nearby metro station.

Rome’s Beating Transport Hub

From Ottaviano Metro Station, we took the metro toward Roma Termini.

Termini is the largest railway station in Rome and one of the busiest transport hubs in Europe. Trains, metros, buses, and airport connections all converge here, making it the heart of the city’s transportation network.

Because it was the weekend, the station was bustling with people. Many young travelers seemed to be heading out for nightlife and social gatherings. In such crowded places, however, one must remain alert. Rome’s Termini is also known as an area where pickpockets operate.

From Termini, we changed trains and continued toward the Basilica San Paolo Metro Station.

A Small Detour and a Warm Welcome

From there, we boarded a bus toward Alaptageen’s residence. Unfortunately, we got off at the wrong stop, which meant an additional twenty-minute walk.

Thankfully, modern technology came to the rescue. By sharing our live location, Alaptageen was able to locate us easily and even walked toward us to guide the way.

It was our first meeting in person, yet he welcomed us with the warmth of an old friend.

A Desi Iftar in Rome

At his apartment, we were greeted with genuine hospitality and a delicious desi iftar.

As we say in Sindhi:

“Sabh thak lahee wya” means all the tiredness simply melted away.

Mr.Alaptageen had previously studied at IBA Sukkur, one of Sindh’s leading educational institutions, before moving to Rome for higher studies.

We were soon joined by Abbas Shah Rizvi from Khairpur Mirs, who was pursuing his PhD in Rome.

Later, another young man entered the living room. At first glance, I assumed he might be Italian, but he introduced himself as Shafay Shaikh from Larkano, who had recently arrived in Rome for his studies.

At that moment, the apartment transformed into what felt like a Sindhi otaq, a traditional gathering place filled with conversation, laughter, and shared stories.

Exploring Rome by Night

Because our time in Rome was limited, we decided to visit some of the city’s most famous landmarks that same evening. Alaptageen and Shafay kindly offered to accompany us, making the exploration much easier.

The Altar of the Fatherland

Our first stop was the impressive Altare della Patria, also known as the Altar of the Fatherland.

Constructed to honor Victor Emmanuel II, the monument symbolizes the unification of Italy and contains the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

At night, illuminated by soft lights, the white marble monument looked magnificent.

Ancient Rome: The Roman Forum and Palatine Hill

Nearby lie the ruins of the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill.

The Roman Forum was once the political and commercial center of the Roman Empire, where senators debated, and citizens gathered.

Palatine Hill, overlooking the Forum, is believed to be the birthplace of Rome and once housed the luxurious palaces of Roman emperors.

Even from a distance, the ruins carried a powerful sense of history.

The Colosseum Under the Night Sky

From there, we walked toward the iconic Colosseum.

I had seen the Colosseum during the daytime before, but seeing it illuminated at night was an entirely different experience. The ancient amphitheater, built nearly two thousand years ago, once hosted gladiator contests and public spectacles for thousands of spectators.

Even at that late hour, the area remained lively with tourists, including many visitors from South Asia.

One interesting detail nearby caught my attention was a public drinking-water system that offered still or sparkling water at the push of a button. Travelers could fill a bottle, a cup, or even half a liter. It was a simple yet impressive example of how cities can encourage public water usage instead of bottled water.

The Ever-Busy Trevi Fountain

Our next destination was the world-famous Trevi Fountain.

Although the buses were relatively comfortable, the square around the fountain was extremely crowded. Visitors of all ages were enjoying the atmosphere.

Naturally, everyone was taking photographs. In today’s digital age, it sometimes feels as if people spend more time capturing a place than truly experiencing it.

Still, the fountain’s beauty, its dramatic sculptures, and flowing water remain unforgettable.

After about half an hour there, we purchased a few souvenirs and continued our walk through Rome’s historic center.

Pantheon and the Temple of Hadrian

We briefly passed the ruins of the Temple of Hadrian and then reached the majestic Pantheon.

Originally built as a temple to all Roman gods, the Pantheon is one of the best-preserved buildings from ancient Rome. Its enormous dome, with a circular opening at the center, remains one of the greatest architectural achievements of the ancient world.

Returning to Prati

It was getting late, and although our hosts wished to treat us to Rome’s famous gelato ice cream, we decided to return to the hotel.

They helped us find the correct bus, and after exchanging warm farewells, we returned to the Prati neighborhood.

Back at the B&B, I enjoyed a simple but comforting luxury, a cup of tea prepared in the room with the kettle and tea supplies I had requested earlier.

Breakfast and Small Memories

The next morning’s breakfast was simple yet satisfying.

One charming detail of the B&B’s decoration caught my attention: small toy Vespa scooters and miniature cars displayed on the shelves. Seeing them reminded me of what we used to call “Dedri cars” in Sindhi, frog-like small cars similar to one once owned by DSP Qazi Abdul Haq of Moro.

Meeting Inspiring Sindhi Entrepreneurs

Before leaving Rome, we planned to meet two remarkable young Sindhi girls, Anoshi Chabarya and her business partner, who had opened a restaurant in the city.

Both originally come from the districts of Kandhkot and Jacobabad in northern Sindh. These districts are culturally rich but often lack opportunities for young women to pursue international careers.

Their achievement, therefore, becomes even more inspiring.

We took the metro from Ottaviano Metro Station to San Giovanni Metro Station, changing trains at Termini.

From there, we chose to walk and enjoy the surrounding neighborhood.

Hungry Scholars: A Sindhi Corner in Rome

Eventually, we arrived at their restaurant, Hungry Scholars, a unique and meaningful name reflecting curiosity, learning, education, and global experiences.

Anoshi had come early just to meet us before the restaurant opened. Her warm welcome made the place feel less like a restaurant and more like a Sindhi home.

Where there are Sindhis, tea is inevitable.

We were served desi chai and biscuits, though we politely declined additional food since we had already eaten breakfast.

During our conversation, we learned about their journey, studying at IBA Sukkur, moving to Rome for higher education, and eventually launching their own restaurant business.

Starting a business abroad is never easy. Their determination and courage are inspiring for many young people, especially girls from Sindh.

Their story sends a powerful message:

Spread your wings, and you will discover the world is larger than you imagined.

Anyone visiting Rome should consider stopping by Hungry Scholars, not only for food but also for the warmth of Sindhi hospitality thousands of kilometers away from home.

Onward to the Next Journey

After planning our route carefully, we headed toward the Roma Tiburtina railway station, from where our FlixBus to Naples would depart.

The bus ride to the station took about forty-five minutes due to rush-hour traffic, but we arrived comfortably on time. After confirming the departure platform at the FlixBus office, we sat down and relaxed.

Soon, the bus arrived.

As it departed from Rome toward Naples, our short yet memorable chapter in the Eternal City came to an end, filled with history, friendships, and a surprising touch of Sindhi hospitality in the heart of Italy.

A City of History, Encounters, and Memories

As the bus slowly rolled out of Rome toward Naples, I looked back at the city that had witnessed more than two thousand years of human history. Rome is often called the Eternal City, and after spending even a short time there, one begins to understand why. Every street corner seems to carry a story, every monument whispers memories of empires, faith, art, and human ambition.

Yet for me, this visit to Rome was not only about ancient ruins, grand monuments, or famous fountains. It was also about people, the warmth of friends, the generosity of strangers who quickly became companions, and the surprising feeling of finding a small Sindhi world thousands of kilometers away from home.

From sharing iftar in an apartment that felt like a Sindhi otaq to meeting young entrepreneurs who carried their dreams from Sindh to Italy, the journey reminded me that travel is not merely about geography. It is about human connections.

Cities impress us with their architecture, but people leave the deeper impressions.

As the lights of Rome slowly faded behind us and the road stretched toward the south, I realized that journeys are never measured only in kilometers. They are measured in moments: a warm cup of tea after a long walk, a familiar language spoken in a distant land, and the quiet realization that the world, despite its vastness, can sometimes feel surprisingly small and wonderfully connected.

And with that thought, our Roman chapter closed, not as an ending, but as another beautiful memory added to the endless journey of travel.

Read: Long Moroccan Turban Speaks Desert Winds

__________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Sindhi Hospitality Shines In Rome first appeared on Sindh Courier.