Where Travel Meets Design

 Some of my best design ideas haven’t come from a studio.

They’ve come from walking through unfamiliar streets, pausing at local markets, and quietly observing how people live.

This particular moment was captured at Little Kook in Athens, Greece.

Tucked into the narrow streets of Psiri, it feels almost like stepping into a different world. Overhead, umbrellas float across the sky, colors shifting with the light. There’s a sense of playfulness in the air, a kind of controlled chaos that somehow comes together beautifully.

And then there’s the food.

Athens has a way of slowing you down just enough to truly enjoy it. A simple Greek coffee, a flaky piece of baklava, or something whimsical from a place like Little Kook, where desserts feel almost too pretty to eat. It’s indulgent, a little theatrical, and completely in sync with its surroundings.

Athens itself carries a similar energy.

It’s a city where history and everyday life exist side by side. Ancient ruins stand quietly while cafés buzz with conversation. You turn a corner, and suddenly the mood shifts. It’s textured, layered, a little imperfect, and deeply alive.

And perhaps that’s why it stays with you.

Not because everything is perfect, but because everything feels real.

Over time, I’ve realized something.

Travel and design speak the same language.

Both begin with curiosity.

Both are forms of storytelling.

Both embrace imperfection.

And most importantly, both are about how something makes you feel.

For me, travel has never been about ticking places off a list. It’s about absorbing moments.

The way a street looks just before sunset.

The rhythm of people going about their day.

The colors that don’t quite match, yet somehow belong together.

These are the things that stay.

And slowly, quietly, they begin to influence how you see the world.

As a designer, I’ve come to realize that inspiration doesn’t always arrive in structured ways. Sometimes it comes from places like this, unexpected, slightly whimsical, and full of character.

It shapes not just what you create, but how you create.

With more ease.

With more openness.

With a little less need for perfection.

This blog has always been a space for my travels and my love for food.

And now, it’s slowly becoming something more.

A place where travel, design, and everyday moments come together.

Maybe this is where a new journey begins.

Some places you visit. Some places stay with you

The depth of disturbance – Scuba diving in Bali

The disturbed water, skin deep literally, that’s what Rakesh, my husband said once he was way under the sea, looking at the big scale aquarium underneath. It was sublime, pristine and a larger than hearsay experience! It was not just scuba diving for him but an encounter with the outstanding underwater world!

It all started with a boat ride to the middle of the sea in Nusa Lembongan. I was not really upto it but since it was the first time for Rakesh, I planned to be on the boat no matter what. First was his wearing the gear on land and taking the symbolic training on how to convey under water - ‘I am ok’ – ‘let’s go up’ – ‘I can’t breathe’ – ‘My mask is giving trouble’ etc.etc.

We went in a motor boat right upto what I thought was middle of nowhere but this was the place where most boats were stopping for their eager diving enthusiasts to disembark into the waters. This boat anchors where it stops with its boatman on board. In my case, us both. I was cold and nauseous. The waters were not behaving; the currents pretty strong making me shiver inside out.

The trainer assured me all would be fine, asked me not to worry and that they would re-surface in half an hour?! I started clicking pictures very carefully as the water was all over the place. Rakesh did look a little tense but excited all the same. They both jumped into the choppy waters with their masks, oxygen, fins et al. I sat wondering and shivering about how it would be under-waters. The surface was snarling at me, loud and rough, the boat was all over the place, rocking and waters jeering at me.

The depth of disturbance was only surface deep. The under was apparently calm and picture perfect. The color of each plant, rock or sand was vivid to the masked eye. It was almost like an illustration of life – the everyday experiences which we look at so enormously. This was similar. There was an essence of tranquility and serenity down under. There was nothing to fear, no currents, and no big waves and too much to savor than fear!