The first airport took my bags and kept them for hours. So I decided I was done with Turkey. Not done with that airport specifically. Done with the whole country. The city. The region. The entire idea of going back. One bad experience at one…
I know you. You’ve been thinking about it. Maybe someone mentioned it. Maybe it came up on a map and you let your eyes sit on it for a second longer than usual. Maybe you’ve been carrying a version of this trip in the back…
Pictures below. The first time I went to Istanbul, I went with my sister. The second time, I brought family. Same city. Same accommodation — right in the center of everything, the spot we’d found the first time and couldn’t justify leaving. Different people around…
Pictures below. I didn’t expect to believe any of it. That’s the honest starting point. I sat down, drank the coffee — which is strong in a way that makes you question every cup you’ve had before it, the kind of strong you’d rather smell…
Istanbul, Türkiye The bags were gone for hours. New country. New airport. Staff that were not particularly invested in solving our problem. And nothing to do but wait, track, and stay functional. That was my welcome to Türkiye. I’ve thought about that moment a lot…
Istanbul, Türkiye I am a germophobe. Not severely (I for some reason am completely OKAY with public gyms), but enough. So walking barefoot into a mosque for the first time — shoes off at the door, no exceptions — was not something I was mentally prepared for. Turkey was my…
The bags were gone. Not delayed. Not misplaced somewhere. Gone — the way things disappear when you’re in a country you’ve never been to, in an airport the size of a small city, surrounded by signs you can’t fully read and people who may not…
How Fear Nearly Cost Me My Favorite Region on Earth I almost didn’t go. Let me be honest about that. When Turkey first came up — when the idea of actually getting on a plane and flying to a country I had categorized in my…