Greece is when you dance barefoot on a roof, and the night smells of lemon and freedom.
I wasn’t a tourist there. I was myself there – loud, bold, with light makeup and heavy thoughts.
And Lisbon?
This is a city that whispers: “Here you can forget the pain.”
I had Portuguese rolls for breakfast, but swallowed the silence that heals.
In every wave of the Atlantic, I heard myself. Not perfect. But real.
I don’t choose places based on ratings. I choose where my body wants to dance,
where my dreams don’t fade away, but become reality.