| The letter of travel. The chance to tell someone who doesn’t know you, the stories everyone who does know you, are tired of hearing. It’s difficult to get your head around the fact that Turkey spans two continents. And it’s kind of mind blowing to think Istanbul does too. In Istanbul you can either ride the underwater metro, walk across the Bosphorus Strait bridge, take a ferry, drive or cycle from Asia to Europe, or the other way around. |
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| In Turkey, the past whispers through every rug and trinket. It’s a living museum, holding secrets of centuries past. Turkey is a country where the echoes of ancient civilizations are swirled with modernization. It has a rich cultural heritage spanning thousands and thousands of years. In fact, it’s one of the oldest civilizations on earth. Their culture is a mosaic textile of distinct experiences. Example: the prominent staple of their cay tea-drinking culture all the time and everywhere, Turkish coffee, the etiquette of drinking anise-flavoured raki, the Evil Eye charm, call to prayer, carpet weaving, pottery making, hammams, and car horns. |
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| Navigating the magic carpet landscape of Turkish culture reveals a plethora of traditions. It is steeped in ganache layers of age-old rituals, deep rooted customs, and superstition, some more like a habit. Take the Evil Eye or Nazar boncugu. This is an Arabic word meaning “sight” or “surveillance.” This iconic blue bead is everywhere; sold on corners, carved in building walls, hanging from rear-view mirrors, in buses, and incorporated into clothing design (such that it is) and home decor. Turks wear these talisman amulets, pin them on newborns’ clothes, and hang them from trees and on doors as a guardian to protect themselves from jealous neighbours and meddling in-laws. I bought a blue eye pillow cushion to ward off furniture delays. |
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| The locals take their çay very seriously, drinking at least 20 tulip-shaped glass cups a day. In fact, Turkey parades the highest per capita tea consumption globally. |
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| Turkish coffee is almost as essential as tea. The first time I had Turkish coffee was in Paris, made for me by a Tunisian. Fractious, I didn’t sleep for three days. (Maybe I shouldn’t have swallowed the grounds). Thus, I obligatory ordered my one cup of thick, aromatic Turkish coffee, but thereafter stuck to my customary cappuccino—the drink of reason. I’m just cultured like that. Nod thoughtfully. |
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| Driving in Istanbul is a nerve-racking experience and can euphemistically described as an adventure, making one prone to multi-syllable adjectives. At first glance it’s chaotic and disorganized with drivers just doing their own thing without regard for any rules because yes, that is exactly what is happening. Large trucks and buses muscle in when they are not supposed to and cutting in front is common. There is unexpected lane changing, driving backwards on a busy road, unexplained stopping, and precarious weaving when roads are congested. They seem to make it a sort of pride to make sure they are never more than ½” away from the next car, even though there is an 80-220% import tax on their car. They take traffic rules as mere suggestions, as well as pedestrians. It is tense. Crosswalks, traffic lights, right-of-way—negligible. You need to walk super fast threading just centimetres from moving cars and be vigilant for all traffic. It will either flow around you or (maybe) stop when seeing you want to cross. If you are just standing and waiting for a car to yield, you might a well apply for Turkish citizenship. You will never cross. Turkish drivers honk for almost anything. Example: when you don’t drive immediately when the light turns green, when they see someone they know, at police cars, when someone is sent off to military service, their soccer team won, or driving toward friends. (Turks describe this as getting “close enough to brush the dust off their pants.”) |
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| One can wander aimlessly around Istanbul as an unapologetic voyeur for hours, maneuvering wobbly cobblestones (I averaged over 12,000 steps a day), smelling the aromas of freshly baked simit and spices wafting through the air, passing the hustle of vibrant markets, mosques (Turkey has over 80,000 mosques), ceramic tiles, cabbages as big as watermelons, stalls of Turkish Delight and sugary confections, Iznik ceramics, magic lanterns, portraits of Ataturk (Turkey’s widely revered first president), and still wonder if you’re there yet. |
| And you can’t go far without seeing a Turkish carpet or kilim. Carpet weaving has been practised in Turkey for centuries and remains a cherished tradition, combining handwork, symbolism, local history, and regional identity. They are known for their intricate designs and superior craftsmanship, revered and passed down from generation to generation. A larger carpet can take months or even years to complete. Owning a Turkish carpet is a symbol of status and a testament to the skill and artistry of the weaver. My lifetime goal—to own a beautiful Turkish carpet. The result. A quality handmade carpet can be between paying off your mortgage and a new mortgage. |
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| There is a natural aversion to admitting we don’t know something—and nowhere does this hold more true when asking for directions here. Not only will you might be shown the way, you also could get a 10-minute passionate explanation with hand-drawn directions, or an accommodating companion for the day. . Turkey’s unique charm lies in its ability to fuse religion and spirituality with the arts. I was privileged to witness a meditative Whirling Dervish ceremony. Clad in traditional robes and accompanied by mellifluous music, they are iconic figures in Turkish culture; a spiritual brotherhood dedicated to conveying their beliefs through a dance form known as Sufi whirling. Their aim—to transcend ego and material desires, redirecting their focus towards God. |
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| Every whisker has a story. Like witnessed in Motor, Montenegro and Kuching, Borneo, cats in Istanbul have long been part of its history, silently wandering the ancient city with quiet grace. From mosques to markets, from seaside cafés to cobblestone alleys, these ubiquitous souls are loved, fed and protected by the city’s residents, revered almost to a godlike status. |
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| There were many follicly-challenged men sporting black headbands. It turns out that many Turkish men experience early baldness and often travel to Istanbul for hair transplants. Underneath those headbands, you’ll likely find bandaged wounds at the back of their heads. Also nose jobs. Turkey is one of a few Muslim countries where selling, buying, and consuming alcohol is allowed by law. But it’s expensive. Going for a drink can cost more than having three meals a day (which were also expensive for the most part). We paid $100 on a bottle of one- choice-only less than mediocre bottle of wine at our hotel. (It was quite a peregrination getting here, so we were desperate.) |
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| Speaking of coffee—again, there is a Turkish wedding tradition that may be more of an ordeal than a charming ritual. The potential groom’s challenge is to drink not sweet, but salty coffee. The test is simple yet revealing—if he manages to finish the briny brew without wincing or complaining, he is believed to possess the patience and composure of a good husband. But beyond humour, the ritual carries a vivid symbolism: a subtle reminder that marriage is not solely about sweet moments, but also the ability to save enough money to buy a car. |
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| Istanbul is not a quiet place, especially the resonating call to prayer (adhan) five times a day. The esteemed muezzin, whose voice is amplified by a loud loudspeaker mounted on the minaret is a part of daily life, and really helps when you have to get up for a really early morning tour, or a cappuccino break, or an afternoon tour, or happy hour, or trying to go to sleep. Yes, I am a delicate flower. |
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| From the call to prayer echoing across the Bosphorus at sunset, visiting a centuries-old pottery workshop at Avanos, a hot-air balloon ride over the stunning ancient fairy chimneys in Cappadocia, roaming the ancient ruins of Ephesus, the taste of freshly baked pice from a wood-fired oven, navigating the maze of rooms carved eight levels deep in Kaimakli — these are the moments that define a trip to Turkey far more than any checklist of ruins. |
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| Well, night is closing in and I’ve got all those pomegranate seeds to arrange. |
Where Asia meets Europe: Türkiye
May 29, 2026 by Leave a Comment
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