Travel, they say, broadens the mind. It introduces you to new cultures, breathtaking architecture, global cuisines, and… extremely overpriced water bottles.

Recently, I embarked on what many call the dream Europe trip — a classic triangle covering Paris, Switzerland, and Italy. I went in expecting to be swept off my feet by scenic boulevards, majestic mountains, and pasta so good it would rewrite my taste preferences. I came back with sunburn, an empty wallet (mostly drained by water), and a newfound appreciation for our humble roadside paranthas and cutting chai.

Allow me to take you on this journey — part travelogue, part survival tale — of a desi navigating the beautiful but bewildering lands of Europe.

Paris: City of Lights, and Light Wallets

Paris is everything they say it is: the Eiffel Tower sparkles just right, the streets are sprinkled with charming cafes, and the people look like they walked straight out of a fashion magazine.

But no one warned me about the cost of staying hydrated.

A bottle of water in Paris costs anywhere between 2 to 4 Euros. That’s 200 to 400 rupees for water! Back home, that would buy me a family pack of samosas and a chai. In Paris, it barely got me a lukewarm, label-less bottle that I suspect was just tap water with a fancy price tag.

Desi survival tip: Carry an empty bottle and refill it at public fountains. Yes, they exist and no, they’re not a trap to bankrupt tourists.

While the infrastructure in Paris is top-notch — smooth roads, and footpaths that are actually walkable — the food was where my desi soul wept. Croissants, baguettes, and strange-looking cheeses ruled the breakfast menus. I searched high and low for boiled tea — you know, the kind that’s been lovingly tortured on the stove with milk and sugar until it begs for mercy. But alas, all I got was a cup of hot water with a suspiciously floating tea bag.

Where was the kadak masala chai? Where were the roadside tea stalls brimming with overboiled goodness?

Instead, I settled for black coffee, which the French seemed to consume as if it were a life force. I drank it too — mostly because I needed something to distract me from the lack of spicy food.

Switzerland: Heaven, If You Can Afford It

Next stop: Switzerland. The land of mountains, chocolate, and prices that can make even your credit card tremble.

I will say this: Switzerland is gorgeous. The mountains don’t need Instagram filters. The lakes are so clear you can almost see your budget sinking to the bottom.

But the sun was merciless. I had packed for dreamy, jacket-weather European hills, but Switzerland greeted me with open arms and scorching sunlight. It was so hot, I briefly considered diving into Lake Lucerne — not for the adventure, but for the free water.

Switzerland, like Paris, continued the cruel tradition of expensive hydration. Food was another challenge. I ordered a “vegetarian sandwich” once, only to receive a slice of bread with a solitary lettuce leaf. I looked at it the way a lion might look at a grass salad.

Excuse me, where are the aloo paranthas? The poori sabji? The chole bhature that can comfort a homesick heart?

Even their famed cheese fondue couldn’t distract me from the silent scream of my desi taste buds craving something deep-fried and dripping in ghee.

But credit where it’s due: Switzerland’s infrastructure is impeccable. Roads are so clean you feel guilty walking on them. And even the cows, I’m convinced, follow traffic rules.

Italy: Pasta, Pizza, and a Missing Green Chilli

Italy was my final European stop, and I was determined to find some comfort food. Surely, pasta and pizza would offer some familiarity, right? After all, even back in India we’ve adopted and lovingly desified them.

Wrong.

Italian food is subtle, elegant, and hopelessly under-spiced. I bit into what looked like a promising pasta dish, only to find that it tasted like boiled noodles politely kissed by a tomato.

I asked the waiter, “Could I get something spicy?”

He smiled sympathetically and brought me pepper flakes. Pepper flakes! For someone raised on a diet of green chillies that could scare dragons, this was barely a tickle.

And the tea? Italy takes its coffee seriously, but when it comes to tea, the story was the same — hot water and a sad teabag floating like a lonely survivor.

Sure, the infrastructure was impressive. The roads were smooth, the public transport efficient, and the historical sites left me in awe. Walking through Rome felt like stepping into a time machine, but my stomach kept reminding me that I was stepping into a no-parantha zone.

Return of the Desi: Parantha Reunion

After days of polite, under-seasoned European meals and expensive sips of water, I landed back in India with a singular mission: to attack a plate of hot, buttery paranthas and gulp down a piping hot, boiled cup of masala chai.

The joy. The sheer, unfiltered joy of that first bite of stuffed parantha — dripping with butter, teasingly spicy, unapologetically oily — was something Europe could never offer. And the tea! Thick, milky, boiled to perfection, sweet enough to shock a dentist — it was as if my taste buds had finally come home after being stranded in a foreign land.

Europe gave me memories, but India gave me flavour.

Lessons from the Trip: A Humorous Survival Guide

1. Water Bottles Are Luxury Items: Carry your own bottle and scout for free public fountains. Europe charges for water like we charge for gold.

2. Tea Expectations: Forget finding Indian-style tea. Embrace the occasional espresso, but prepare to miss that boiling, bubbling roadside chai.

3. Spice Emergency Kit: Pack some green chillies, achaar (pickle), or a small packet of masala. Trust me, your taste buds will thank you.

4. Parantha Withdrawal is Real: The sooner you accept that Europe has no paranthas or poori sabji, the easier your trip will be. Plan your grand reunion meal for the day you land back home.

5. Enjoy the Roads and Infrastructure: While the food might not hit the spot, the roads, trains, and public spaces in Europe are truly a marvel. Walk, explore, and soak in the efficiency.

Travel changes you, they say. It certainly changed my appreciation for the everyday things I used to take for granted — like the ability to order aloo parantha at 2 a.m. or finding a chaiwala at every street corner.

Europe was beautiful, no doubt. But sometimes, beauty isn’t enough when your heart is crying out for a greasy plate of poori sabji.

And so, after my whirlwind European adventure, I can confidently declare: It’s good to travel, but it’s even better to come home to the food you love. After all saare jahan se achcha… Hindustan hamara hamara

Pass me another parantha, please.