Capadoccia, Turkey My Childhood Dream Takes Flight

Some days are simply unforgettable. Days when the world dresses in its finest, decorates itself with the most extravagant beauty, and invites you to step into a sultan’s dream. On that day, I felt as if the world itself had crowned me its brightest star.

When I was four, before I could read, I was mesmerized by the worlds hidden inside magazines. We lived in a remote corner of Chilean Patagonia—no satellite TV, no phone—and reading became one of the rare gateways to adventure. But I couldn’t read yet, so I devoured the photographs instead, tracing shapes with my eyes, imagining the sounds of the letters, wondering what would happen if I put one next to another… My favorite magazine? National Geographic, of course.

What a magical way to discover the wonders of the world without reading a single word. I waited eagerly each week for my father to return from the town with food—and, if I was lucky, magazines to entertain me for days. I would cut out landscapes and figures, learning skillfully with scissors and glue, mastering patience, precision, and the thrill of imagining worlds beyond the edges of our remote home.

One cover struck me more than any other: a dry, otherworldly landscape, mountains sculpted into fantastical shapes, creamy as biscuits, dotted with hundreds of vibrant hot-air balloons rising against a dawn sky. I stared for what felt like hours. I asked my brother what it said. “Cappadocia, Turkey,” he told me.

Turkey… I had never heard the word before.

Years passed, school came, and I had my first presentation in front of my classmates at eight years old. I knew exactly which faraway land I wanted to speak about. I spent two weeks in the library, reading, writing, even leafing through the Bible to trace its rivers. I could probably give that presentation today, word for word.

Eventually, I traveled across Europe, fueled by a single goal: reach Turkey, explore its landscapes, and finally see Cappadocia—the balloons from the magazine, in real life.

Right before taking off

That day began at 4:30 a.m. with a lavish Turkish breakfast in the middle of the desert. Perhaps I should confess—heights terrify me. Yet here I was, floating above the world anyway. The basket was small, for eight passengers. The pilot helped everyone on board and turned to me. “Ready?”

I stepped in, eyes closed, hands over my ears, heart racing. One minute later, he tapped my shoulder: “We’re almost 100 meters above the ground.”

I opened my eyes. And then… glory.

Silence. Weightlessness. Floating. I imagined how birds must feel. In front of me, a yellow balloon with colorful stripes rose gracefully, almost identical to the one on that magazine cover. I closed my eyes again, seeing four-year-old Rossana staring at her magazine, waiting to be told: Yes, your dreams are real. And yes, they are breathtaking.

We landed on the celebration of champagne with other fellow travelers. I returned to my hotel, I napped, then wandered through valleys at sunset, losing myself until darkness caught me in a small artisanal wine spot. Lucky for me, the bartender was heading to town too, and we rode on a motorcycle beneath a canvas of stars.

Dinner was a storybook experience: a traditional Turkish feast inside a mountain, belly dancers spinning, serpents twirling—pure magic.

The sky bid goodbye, its stars like diamonds on velvet. I kissed four-year-old Rossana and whispered about the dream we had lived, smiling at the life we get to taste.

One of the most perfect days I can remember.

Have you ever visited a place you dreamed of as a child? Is there a destination you’ve always longed for? Share it with me—let’s make that childhood dream trip a reality for you.