Traveling Turkey: Istanbul & Lycian Way

My impressions of Turkey before arriving were a strange mix. On one hand, I had headlines in my mind of terror attacks, Erdogan's controversial presidency, and the lira's extreme fluctuations, and on the other I had Frankfurt's döner (kebab) shops. Not specifically those shops, but rather the uniquely German lens with which I had looked at Turkey and its people until now. Even before arriving in Germany eight years ago, I was exposed to novels and films that focused on the Turkish migrant's experience in the country from my German lit classes back at university. I felt like neither of these things really gave me a clear picture of what Turkey truly has to offer.

Istanbul at sunset from the Galat Köprüsü bridge.

Under all this, I also had the enchanting stories of my nearly 94-year-old grandma who visited Turkey decades ago on a sailing trip swimming in my mind. After a lifetime of travel that's taken her across most of Europe, China, Thailand, Iceland, and Cuba, she still recalls Turkey as her favorite trip. She always speaks fondly of the food and people, brought home beautiful Turkish rugs that gave her Californian home a worldly yet cozy feel, and purchased glass blue plates upon returning as a nod to the ones she ate off while in Turkey. Her love of the country has always left me yearning to explore it for myself one day. Now that I've had a chance to see a little, I can definitively say it absolutely does not disappoint. The people, the diverse landscape, the history, the culture, and of course, the food--it's been fantastic. 

Itinerary

Our first week in Turkey was split between city life and hike life. After a little sightseeing in Istanbul, we flew to Dalaman, then hiked along the southwestern part of Turkey's coast.

Part 1: Exploring Istanbul

Our night train arrived in Istanbul early, giving us three days to explore the transcontinental city, which was just enough time to scratch the surface of its diverse offerings and rich history. We squeeze in a free walking tour of the old city, took a two-hour afternoon river cruise on the Bosphorus Strait (for less than €2!), did a self-guided walking tour of the Fener and Balat neighborhoods, spent an evening chatting with our Airbnb host, and, of course, sampled lots of local cuisine.

Istanbul's Hagia Sofia was originally a Greek Orthodox church, with minarets only added under Ottoman rule.

We stopped at Feride, a delicious buffet-style cafe where you can pick home-cooked dishes and pay by weight.

The world's only all-iron church, the Bulgarian Church of Sveti Stefan, can be found in the Balat neighborhood.

Istanbul proved to be a bustling city that is both modern and traditional (and even super hipster), rich and poor all depending on where you look. It sprawls and sprawls as far as the eye can see, across two continents for that matter, and its sheer size, with more than 15 million inhabitants, left me gobsmacked. Just to you give an idea of how this translates, our night train arrived at Istanbul's westernmost train station, Halkali, and it took us another 1.5 hours by bus to reach the city center. Istanbul is enormous! In our three days there, we remained mostly on the European side, only crossing over to the Asian side to catch our flight.

We saw numerous dilapidated houses on our walks. Sometimes even entire streets had fallen into disrepair.

This was in stark contrast to the multimillion-dollar waterfront villas we past on our rive cruise.  

The second thing that really struck me about Istanbul was the amount of stray cats running around. They are everywhere. Before we even managed to check into our Airbnb, I'd crossed paths with at least 50 unusually health and well-fed strays (I was delighted). Looking closer, I noticed that nearly every door-stoop had a bowl of water and cat food, and some even had little cat houses. 

How many cats can you count? A man feeding the neighborhood cats--a typical and endearing scene in Istanbul.

When I asked our Airbnb host about this later, he confirmed that people have a super soft spot for cats here. He explained that part of local taxes even go to keeping the cat population under control. They tag the ears of fur babies that have been given shots, and regularly put out food for them, which is why you see people happily petting strays without being worried about contracting a disease. Locals' love for cats is so striking in fact that a girl even made a documentary about it! I've yet to watch the film, but I did check out the trailer for Kedi. And any culture that has so much compassion for these little furry creatures holds a soft spot in my heart.

Part 2: Lycian Way

Lycian Way offers beautiful views of Turkey's coast! 

After all the buildings and people, I was ready for some nature. A quick one-hour flight South brought us to Dalaman. We then took a bus to the costal town of Fethiye where we spent one night before embarking on Lycian Way, a long-distance hiking route largely made of up of old Roman roads, footpaths, and mule trails that stretches some 540 kilometers all the way to Antalya. 

Although we only sampled about four days of this month-long trekking route, I can absolutely attest to its stunning cliff-side views and would return in a heartbeat. In fact, it exceeded my expectations. Although this wasn’t hard, because a not so small part of me expected to give up on day one once I realized it was going to be about 30C that week (high 80s in F) and I had to hike up mountains...with a backpack. Thankfully, our hotel in Fethiye let us leave some luggage with them for a few days, so we weren’t carrying the full weight of our backpacks. 

The hiking amounted to a little over 12km a day and was definitely challenging, but so rewarding. We used an app called TrailSmart to plan the hike, and I can highly recommend it! It was like having a guide with you at all times. It showed how to break down the trail into sections/days, lets you track your progress offline, and gave recommendations as to how much water to bring and where to stay and eat. It even told you what kinds of animals you might see along the way. I think pictures are probably the best way to convey just how gorgeous and varied the scenery is, so I brace yourself, I’m including a lot. 

• Day 1: We set off from the Fethiye bus station at around 10am and by mid-afternoon were in Ölüdeniz, where Lycian Way officially begins. I can’t recommend staying in either town longer than one night though, as both were very touristic and not particularly charming. 

The highlight of day one was the abandoned town of Kayaköy. It was originally a Greek settlement, and home to both Anatolian Muslims and Greek Orthodox Christians, but the inhabitants were forced to leave as part of a “population exchange” following the Greco-Turkish War, so each country could claim one major religion. 

• Day 2: We hiked a rather challenging portion of the route from Ölödeniz to the peaceful town of Kabak, which gives off hippie mountain-beach vibes (if that is a thing). It’s also an extremely special day for us, because Thore and I got engaged along the way! He proposed at the highest point of the hike looking over the ocean, and we’re looking forward to taking on a lot more of life’s challenges and reaching new heights together. 

A typical Turkish breakfast, with lots of cheese, olives, and honey, was often included in our hotel price.

Energy and enthusiasm was high at the start of the hike!

In some parts, the entire forest was humming with bees, and in the villages local honey was always for sale.

• Day 3: The hike from Kabak to Alinca was by far the hardest but most rewarding leg of our hike. It was all uphill for about five hours straight, and the last 20 minutes had us struggling in sweaty silence. The view on arrival made up for it all though. The town of Alinca consisted of about 10 buildings, and we managed to find a pension hotel with the best view on arrival. For the price of 20 euro per person a night, we even got breakfast and dinner. 

Took a quick swim at Kabak beach before setting off for the day.

• Day 4: We originally planned to hike on that day, but Alinca was so peaceful and fantastic (and also my legs were dead) that we spontaneously decided to stay another night. The following day we hiked back to Kabak where you can get a bus all the way back to Fethiye.

The view from our pension hotel. It was like having a private Santorini.

Weekly Cost Breakdown

Due to the Turkish lira's exchange rate, the cost of travel in Turkey is considerably lower than in the Balkans. That said, the exchange rate also fluctuates significantly, which meant that the cost in euro actually increased since I did my estimates. A reminder that costs listed here are per person, and traveling as a couple really brings down accommodation costs.

I also found it harder to cook here, which drove up costs as well. This is partly because there are fewer hostels and Airbnbs, so kitchens weren't as readily available. Supermarkets also seemed to have a much more limited selection than I am used to, especially with regards to fresh produce (tomatoes, peppers, onions, and eggplant were readily available though). Another thing to look out for is if your accommodation includes breakfast and dinner. Ours did on three occasions, and in Ölüdeniz, we unfortunately found out about the dinner part a little too late to take advantage of it! 

Packing For A Year

Shrinking your apartment into a backpack. It can't be that hard, I'd thought. After all, I already successfully Marie-Kondo-ed (translation: halved) my belongings after having moved house four times in the past four years thanks to a break-up followed by a string of bad luck brought on by Frankfurt's climbing rental prices. Though when it came time to actually pack for my trip, a wave of anxiety washed over me. What on earth do I need!!? For a year! In places I've never even been! 

Everything I brought with me fits in these bags. Sunglasses for scale, as I had no banana.

The Truth About Packing 

To calm my nerves and out of sheer curiosity, I scoured countless blogs and Youtube videos for examples of what other backpackers, digital nomads, and thru-hikers were bringing on their adventures. It was a truly fascinating study. Everyone had a slightly different take on well... just about everything, from the amount of underwear to bring (some professed that two pairs!!! were enough) to the size of their backpack. A few things did become clear though: 

• No one is going on the same journey (same places at the same time of year, length of trip, planned activities, mode of travel, etc.). I don't intend to be in the wilderness for weeks at a time--at least not on this trip--so I probably don't need a camp stove.
• Zip-off cargo pants are not for me. OK, not exactly that, but no one shares my exact preferences and values. Convertible cargo pants, while practical, just aren't my style. And although a full-time travel vlogger can justify carrying a drone and a DSLR camera with four lenses, I cannot (knowing how to use them unfortunately seemed paramount to their justification). I do, however, love food and coffee, so I decided to pack a few spices and a fine-meshed strainer to make a rustic brew. I can imagine other people find this ridiculous. 
• You don't have to get it right the first time. While the planner and list-marker in me really had a hard time getting this through my head, it's true. Literally everyone whose blog or video I reviewed mentions adapting their pack. They either purchased new things along the way, sent items home, or traded possessions with other travelers. Knowing you can shed and acquired as you go really takes the pressure off.

In short, there is no magic formula for the perfect backpack, and that's OK. With that in mind, here are the contents of my totally not perfect backpack the night before leaving. Admittedly, a few things were still missing (my multi-plug extension chord is noticeably absent) and a few items were taken out to get my liquids under 1 liter for airport control. I hope seeing what I brought provides some entertainment for those at home, or maybe encouragement to anyone else trying to pack for an extended journey. 

How I look carrying everything (decidely turtle-esque).

What's In My Backpack 

The backpack itself is an Osprey Fairview, a 55-liter front-loading pack for women. This includes a daypack that zips off. The zippers can be locked, and you can zip up the backpack straps when in transport to make it more compact. 

Supposedly, it's just small enough to sneak on planes as a carry-on, and I've successfully brought it on two budget airlines with not so much as a concerning glance from the cabin crew. Fully packed it weighs around 13kg.

In the main pack, I keep clothes, toiletries, cables, my fitness bands, and the first-aid kit. 

Eagle Creek compression cubes helped compact all this very nicely.

Clothes: Flowy pants (2), leggings (2), shorts (3), sarong/dress (1), long-sleeved shirt (1), chambray button-down shirt (1), thin sweater (1), t-shirts (4), tank tops (4), sports bras (2), regular bras (2), underwear (10), socks (3), thin scarves (2), bikinis (2.5, more tops than bottoms), and a compatible puffy jacket (1, packed elsewhere due to rare use).

Realized just how girly I am when I couldn't part with brow gel and highlighter.

Toiletries: Electric toothbrush + charger + extra toothbrush head, toothpaste (brought a travel size in the end), shampoo, conditioner, brush, deodorant, Aquaphor, nail clippers, nail buffer, cuticle remover, tweezers, interdental brushes, razor, shaver, and exfoliating mitten.

Skincare: Face wash, facial sunscreen, exfoliating pads, and retinol cream.

Make-up: Concealer, face powder, bronzer, eyebrow pomade and gel, highlighter, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, eyelash curler, makeup brushes (3), perfume sample. 

This is how all of the above looks packed into cubes. 

Medicine: Acetaminophen, ibuprofen, cold and sinus relief pills, antihistamine, malaria pills, motion sickness gum, anti-itch cream, anti-diarrhea tablets (loperamide), cramp relief (buscopan), antibacterial ointment, electrolyte packets, zinc + vitamin c supplement, eyedrops, cough drops, thermometer, bandages, and medical tape, extra-strength bug spray, and sunscreen (as a starting point, I used "How to Pack A First Aid Kit for Extended International Travel," from the New York Times).

Shoes: Flip-flops, and trail running shoes.

The contents below largely went into my zip-off daypack. This way I could keep my valuables with me at all times.

Electronics: MacBook Air + protective sleeve, Google Pixel 3 + extra tempered glass screen covers (2), Kindle, power bank, headphones, chargers for devices, multi-plug extension chord, and converter.

Gear: Sleeping bag liner, compressible packing cubes (2), regular packing cubes (2), hangable bathroom bag, inflatable neck pillow, hidden money belt, water-filtration bottle + replacement filter, tin cup, metal spork, collapsible tupperware, locks (2), travel towels (2), retractable washing line, laundry soap sheets (2 packets in toiletries bag), malleable wax earplugs (4 packs of 8, excessive, I know), heavy-duty waterproof ziplock bags (5), regular ziplock bags (5), hand sanitizer, baby-wipes, fitness bands, sunglasses + soft case, playing cards, laundry bag, foldable shopping bag, rubber bands, pen, tissue, and tampons and pads.

Important documents: Passport, vaccination booklet, international drivers license, copy of travel health insurance, and credit cards.

Food pack: Protein bars, granola bars, throat-coat tea, pepper, salt, seasoning mix, a strainer to make coffee. 

Preparation Costs

This is what it cost me to acquire the items listed above. 

A disclaimer: I had a fair amount to start with, and I don't think everything I bought was at all necessary. I requested the shoes and backpack from my parents for Christmas and my birthday, and I received the sleeping bag liner and money belt as gifts, so I didn't look up the prices. Malaria pills are also rather expensive, but I managed to avoid purchasing any as a friend just returned from Africa with extra unused boxes.

There were a few additional costs that I didn't include above, namely the cost of buying plastic boxes to store my clothes (€45), forwarding my mail (€35), and purchasing a phone with a better camera (€605). 

Planes, Trains & Automobiles To Turkey

My original aim was to avoid commercial flights on this journey, because, well, flying around the world hardly seems like an adventure. In fact, you could probably make it in three days if you wanted. Decidedly dull. 

To set my course for true adventure, I gathered inspiration from a handful of low-budget travel documentaries, including Pedal The World, Chasing Bubbles, and Weit, which respectively follow the journeys of people who cycled, sailed, and largely hitchhiked around the word. I can highly recommend checking them out, even if you have no interest in leaving your couch (the second is my favorite of the three and free on YouTube!).

While these films had my imagination swirling, just a few hours of concrete trip planning made clear that circling the globe while avoiding commercial flights would take substantially longer and cost considerably more, unless, of course, I decided to take up cycling in a big way. And I had to concede that I wasn't exactly prepared for that kind of trip. 

With a set timeline of a year and a limited budget, I needed to be a little more flexible. That put flying back on the table, but I aim to incorporate other modes of transport whenever possible. 

Our route to Istanbul lead over Budapest, Belgrade, and Sofia, using a variety of transportation.

In my first week on the road, I can say that I've done just that. My boyfriend, Thore, and I started off with a two-hour flight from Frankfurt to Budapest, where we stayed three nights. After exploring the city on bike, visiting a bath, and drinking in ruins bars, we grabbed a ride-share to Belgrade using the app BlaBla Car, and the following morning we hopped on an 11-hour train ride to Sofia. After two nights and another full day in Sofia, which included a free walking food tour, a dinner with newly acquired friends from said tour, and a day in the expansive Borisova Gradina park, we took a night train to Istanbul that left at about 10pm and arrived the following morning. 

We spent a delightful afternoon sitting in the sun at one of Budapest's famous baths.

After learning that Bulgaria is a top producer of lavender oil, we sampled some lavender meringues as well as cheese on the food tour in Sofia.

We stopped by Sofia's iconic Alexander Nevsky Cathedral on the way to catch our night train to Istanbul.

I deeply enjoyed taking this route for a few reasons:

• We got to spend time in major cities along the way, while making it to our first real destination, Turkey, in just a week.
• The train and car rides gave us a peek at lesser known towns and a chance to appreciate the slowly changing landscape.
• The cost of travel came to just under €150 per person, which is more than the €100 direct flight to Turkey, but still within reason, especially considering we didn't need an accommodation for the evening spent on the night train!
• And last, but certainly not least, we met interesting people and had a few adventures along the way. 

Soaking up some of the Serbian countryside from the train window!

While the flight to Budapest was totally uneventful, the car and train rides were the exact opposite. The driver of our ride-share, Toma, a Serbian man who drove down cars purchased in Austria for his boss, turned out to be quite a character, and have a terrible sense of time. He arrived about two hours late to pick us up (blaming traffic), but was such a gregarious fellow you couldn't help but like him. 

Along the ride, he told stories about his family, taught us about traditional Serbian foods, and impressed upon us Serbians' love of distilling plum brandy, or Slivovitz, at home. "The Mercedes of fruit liquor," as he put it. Now and again, he'd catch you off guard by rattling off bits of Balkan history, dates and all, with impressive ease, and was kind enough to open a hotspot on his phone so we had internet access once we crossed into Serbia. 

But enjoyable as the drive to Belgrade was, it was beginning to take considerably longer than expected. Toma had made a few unannounced stops that added another two hours to the drive (something to do with the car business, which I began to feel may or may not be totally above water). To make up for the delays and the fact that it was well past dinner time now, our driver repeatedly offered us the Schweinehaxe, or roasted pig's leg for the non-German speakers, that he'd brought with him from Austria as a road snack. We politely declined, and delved into our snack pack that I'd thankfully topped up with nuts, bananas, and protein bars. 

Day was turning to night, and about two hours outside Belgrade, we stopped again to picked up another passenger and her not-so-small dog, Bernadette. The five us were humming down the now-dark road when Toma pulled into a gas station to fill up the tank. Although Thore and I had nothing but time on our hands, we were beginning to worry how we'd navigate to the train station in Belgrade early tomorrow morning from our accommodation, which was cheap, but rather poorly connected via public transport. Luckily our newest passenger, the girl, not the dog, worked in tourism, and was just in the middle of telling us the best way to get to the Topcider train station when Toma returned with ice cream for everyone. The mood immediately lifted, and I couldn't help but feel this is exactly where I wanted to be, in a position that was open to a little more of the unknown than your typical flight. I was enjoying the company and kindness of strangers instead of arguing with flight attendants about the size of my luggage and breathing in old air, and that suited me just fine--even if it was nearly 11pm now and not the 7pm I had anticipated. 

Instead of dropping us off at a central train station as agreed in the app, Toma wanted to take us directly to our accommodation. Only we couldn't seem to find it. Toma made a quick call to our host, and minutes later an incredibly friendly man welcomed us into his home in one of New Belgrade's apartment complexes. 

The apartment building where we stayed is a classic example of the Socialist-era architectural style of Brutalism, which characterizes much of New Belgrade.

In somewhat broken English, our host even offered, insisted really, that he drive us to the train station the next morning, because what takes an hour by public transport would only be a 10-minute drive for him. Thanks to his help, we made it to the station just in time to purchases tickets and grab a quick coffee. So I boarded a nearly empty train, which only had two train cars in total, and settled in on one its plush old velvet seats brimming with gratitude at the generosity of others. 

Grabbing a last-minute coffee at Belgrade's Topcider train station before leaving to Sofia.

Just as we were settling in to have a breakfast of banana and oats in our tin cups, two other passengers sat down in our compartment. A German art history student who was about to embark on her PhD and a 19-year-old Austrian guy who was starting his studies in a few weeks. Over the next 11 hours we chatted about life, watched scenery go by, read books, and laughed at our luck when the train broke down in the middle of nowhere for about an hour. It was a pretty wonderful day, and absolutely the adventure I was looking for.

Weekly Cost Breakdown

Keep in mind this is cost per person and traveling as a couple does bring down the price of accommodations and meals prepared.

The Final Countdown: Reflections On Leaving

Shutting the door to my friend Simon’s apartment in Germany was the first time I really felt it. That nervous excitement and exhilaration that’s wrapped up in adventure. This year-long trip around the world that’s been nearly two years in the making just didn’t feel real until then. It didn’t feel real when I informed work about my plans to leave, or when I handed back the keys to my old apartment, or even when I moved nearly everything I owned into storage. 

Sure, life was incrementally changing. A month before departure I found myself sleeping on the couch beds of my very gracious friends, but I would still wake up and go to work. And when I stopped going to work the week before leaving, I was still riding the metro past work. I'd cross familiar streets, and stop off at my favorite lunch spots to squeeze in another visit with friends, as I checked off my final to-dos at various government offices. My old life still was within grasp. It felt like I could turn back at any moment and life as I knew it would resume.

The Frankfurt skyline from my work's summer party--part of what I'll be leaving behind for a year.

The weeks leading up to my departure had felt anything but exhilarating actually. As colleagues asked me in eager envy, or perhaps just politeness, when I was heading off and where I was going, all I could muster was the same cookie-cutter reply, “O, I’ll be flying to Budapest at the start of September, and then making my way down to Turkey by train.” I would say those things, but somehow I couldn’t emotionally connect with them. I was not truly excited, or at least not as excited as I thought someone in my position ought to be, and a bit of guilt came with that as well. It actually began to concern me. Maybe I didn't want to leave at all, I worried, but I let myself be carried by the decisions I'd already made. Surely I knew what was best for me!

I was just fine on the surface, but that inner part of my mind was spinning with the stress of trying to tie up the life I'd built in a foreign country over the past eight years into a neat bow--a life, for the record, that I really like!--so that I could unfurl it upon my return. It wasn’t that any one task was extraordinarily demanding. In fact lots of if was pretty mundane, but the sheer coordination of it all and newness left me a little rattled and scatterbrained. So much so that I even unknowingly purchased the incorrect metro ticket to Simon's apartment, which, to my horror and deep embarrassment, the conductors discovered, and for which I must now pay a €60 fine.

 But, standing there with my carefully curated backpack strapped snuggly around my hips, doorknob in hand, all those details melted away. A two-inch gap between the edge of Simon’s front door and its frame was all that was left between me and the trip of a lifetime. I just stared at it for a moment, knowing that once sealed that door would cut me off from anything I'd potentially forgotten and everything I was leaving behind. After all, Simon was at work that afternoon, and the keys he'd lent me were now on the table in the hallway. No turning back. I took a few moments to calm the butterflies in my stomach and then decisively tugged the door shut. A moment of personal triumph, of believing in myself, of staring down the doubts and fears in my mind. My to-do list was complete. Now off to see what there is to see!