At last, after the Covid-lockdown ended, I stepped into Notting Hill—London’s most vibrant, cinematic neighborhood.

My fascination with this charming locality began years ago, thanks to the iconic movie Notting Hill. Julia Roberts played a dazzling Hollywood star who wandered into a quaint bookstore, only to find love with its humble bookseller, Hugh Grant. I first watched the film for my celebrity crush, Julia. But soon, the colorful streets stole my heart, and I dreamt of visiting them someday.

In 2020, my chance finally arrived! But, thanks to the pandemic, my London adventure was delayed. As fate would have it, I managed to explore Notting Hill just a week before my departure.

Walking past Portobello Road, Lansdowne Crescent, and Ladbroke Square, I was mesmerized. Pastel-colored houses, cobblestone mews, antique markets, and cozy cafés—all stitched together like scenes from a perfect London postcard. This was, indeed, the most Instagrammable neighborhood in the city.

I followed the streets that had once set the stage for the romantic film. Portobello Market, famed for its vintage treasures, caught my eye. I found myself in front of a jewelry shop, picking a necklace—maybe for Julia if I ever met her? Just then, a shop assistant interrupted my fantasy. Embarrassed, I quickly asked about an ancient London map, pretending I was a serious explorer.

To my surprise, the next shopkeeper showed me a map of Kolkata from 1825. My hometown, in faded ink and forgotten lines—it was a piece of history I never expected to find here.

Further ahead, I stumbled upon a bookstore. Was this the bookstore where Julia met Hugh? A book lay casually on a table. I picked it up, catching a lingering scent of Chanel No. 5. Had she been here? Had I just missed her?

I followed the winding paths of Elgin Crescent and Lansdowne Grove, discovering hidden gardens and graffiti-splashed walls. Then, at Ormond Court, I stood before the legendary blue door—the one from Notting Hill.

I imagined waiting inside, as Julia knocked and whispered the timeless words:
“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

Reality, of course, had other plans.

As I reached St. Luke Mews, one of London’s most photographed spots, I realized something. My hunt for Julia Roberts had turned into something more—an affair with Notting Hill itself.

I never met my celebrity crush. But I found a love that was just as magical.