Postcard From A Turkey That Still Bites
Thanksgiving — From The Other Side
I’ve been to Turkey a handful of times.
Back in the day, I used to pop over here for my visa runs while I was working under the table in the EU.
I’d catch a ferry from Greece and play the role of Johnny Tourist for forty-eight hours, before then sailing back across the Aegean Sea — feeling like the world was my oyster.
(Upon arriving back in Greece, I’d be stamped with another 90 day visa).
Even though I spent years living and working in Europe… before arriving back in Istanbul from Iraq, it had been 17 years since I’d actually stepped foot inside this continent.
Seventeen years.
Man, how time flies.
While I thoroughly enjoyed my time here years ago, I was a much younger man in those days — one far more interested in chasing a good time rather than reveling in the importance of where I was in the world.
But being here now, with a much wiser lens and a deeper appreciation for the past, I can’t get over just how complex the history of this land truly is.
The reality is, I couldn’t have appreciated it back then in the same way I can now.
Plus, the vast majority of my life abroad since last being here has been spent in Southeast Asia — where everything looks, feels, smells, and tastes completely different.
So while my body was instantly flooded with romantic nostalgia upon my re-entry into the streets of Istanbul… I was indeed caught off guard by what happened inside my brain.
A surprising alert of needing to be on guard.
While the street corners remain sprinkled with tribes of harmless elderly men solving all the world’s problems, an awareness toward potential threats still felt necessary.
(It’s entirely safe here, but with Turkey now being one of Europe’s top tourist destinations, pickpocketing and street scams are now quite common).
I felt a shift in my need to be slightly guarded. Something I hadn’t felt — or even had to turn on — in quite some time. And yes, that’s even after having just spent two and a half weeks in Iraq.
On the contrary, Istanbul isn’t just any European city.
This is one of the greatest crossroads of the world. It’s quite literally where East meets West.
It’s where empires collided. Where opposing faiths mingled then mauled. And where entire chapters of human history have been molded, shaped and shifted.
Oh, and the architecture.
It’s not just visually beautiful: it’s historical. Biblical even.
Istanbul is a city that has watched its walls turn and burn for thousands of years, yet it refuses to be anything less than captivating.
That blend of beauty, history, and the sheer weight of everything this place has endured has piqued something within me — a spike of appreciation and adrenaline I haven’t felt in quite some time.
Honestly, it’s been a minute since I’ve felt this rich, or this deep of a history. And again, that’s saying something considering I just spent time in Iraq.
Sure, there’s an equally mind-blowing history in that region of the Middle East — but for me, in my body, that carried a different kind of weight.
And with Southeast Asia, that nook of the world has become so familiar to me and my system, my body settles into a peace-and-calm-mode from the moment I arrive.
But here — in one of the most historically rich cities on earth, on Thanksgiving Day no less — I’m finding myself aware and grateful for something I wouldn’t have expected:
that even after two decades of travel, I can still be starstruck by an old place that suddenly feels new… and that I can still be pleasantly surprised by what happens inside my own skin when I finally step outside the comforts of my home away from home, Southeast Asia. For the longest, I haven’t wanted, or felt the need to go anywhere else — but Turkey (and Iraq) have changed that for me.
So, after 17 years of being AWOL, if this first week back in Europe has taught me anything, it’s these two important truths:
there are far more mosquitos in Turkey than there are in Iraq…
and I can still be bitten by the beauty of an old lover — or a place that feels like one.
With Gusto,
Adrian
PS. Since it is Thanksgiving, I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge one of the things I’m most grateful for: you — the reader.
This whole travel-writing journey only matters because I have people like you on the other side of the screen reading and following along. So thank you for that. Really and truly.
I was in Turkey for the first time in October 2025. It was far too brief, and I craved more travel there, particularly into Central Turkey. Your statement: "Istanbul is a city that has watched its walls turn and burn for thousands of years, yet it refuses to be anything less than captivating," was the best way to describe it! I was also captivated, and the appeal of being on two continents was excellent. I loved Kusadasi and wrote about my trip. What an experience. Thank you for touching on what I so enjoyed.
I love your photo of the Turkish Grapevine. Who says men don’t much like to chat with each other? By the way, is there a men only rule on these benches? And do the women meet up in public places?