29 January 2026
One week in Turkey… Apart from Egypt, India, Italy, and Tibet, Turkey has always been in my top ten destinations. Why? In my mind, it is a country filled with beautiful ancient cities, natural wonders, Turkish delight, and delicate Turkish teas served in shops adorned with Persian tapestries. A land shaped by war, powerful rulers, and constant change across centuries. And then, of course, there is romantic Cappadocia and the mystery of Göbekli Tepe.
For some reason, I had always imagined Turkey as more of a Mediterranean country. I never once considered that it could transform into a frozen wonderland in winter. When I finally decided this would be my destination after my ninety days in India, I didn’t give the season much thought. Luckily, I naturally research and plan quite carefully before boarding a plane. I was more than a little amused when I realized I would be arriving in the heart of winter, with temperatures far below anything I’d experienced in the past year and a half of endless summer.
Living in India, Malaysia, and enjoying a brief spring break in South Africa meant my wardrobe consisted mostly of shorts, summer tops, and flip-flops. One pair of sneakers “just in case” is still the warmest footwear I own, and my trusted K-Way puffer jacket is the fluffiest protection I have against freezing wind and snow. Unfazed, I booked my ticket anyway — even after realizing that many of the places I had hoped to volunteer at would be closed or not accepting volunteers during the slow winter season. I applied for every available option regardless.
Subscribing to Worldpackers was one of the best decisions I made early in 2025. The yearly fee of $59 has paid for itself many times over. Accommodation alone during the past year would likely have cost a hundred times that. Beyond the practical savings, the experiences and friendships formed along the way have been priceless. As before, I didn’t wait long to be accepted for an English teaching position — this time in Gaziantep, somewhere roughly in the middle of Turkey. Content with having something solid in place, I enjoyed my last weeks of sunshine and salty air. I also shopped for woollen pants, long-sleeved shirts, warm socks, and a beanie.
Arriving in Istanbul, I was greeted by crisp winter air, a quiet Taksim Square, and beautiful mosques begging to be photographed. It wasn’t what I had imagined — of course, it is now a modern city rather than an ancient one — but it didn’t disappoint. I loved the streets, overflowing with cafés, restaurants, small shops, and friendly cats everywhere. I made the most of my single day there, walking at least 25,000 steps from one neighbourhood to the next.
Then came the sixteen-hour bus ride to Gaziantep. We departed at 1pm, with arrival scheduled for 5am the next morning. I quickly realized this would not be a comfortable journey. The seats were barely larger than economy-class airplane seats and reclined only enough to crush the legs of the person behind you. I settled in as best I could — there was nothing else to do. Sleep felt impossible, though exhaustion eventually claimed me sometime after midnight. I woke when the bus stopped again, completely disoriented.
All I could see were vague outlines of trees and cars, completely covered in snow. Never in my life had I seen anything like it. I’m sure my mouth hung open, breath suspended somewhere between disbelief and shock. I couldn’t tell whether I was terrified or awestruck. A moment of cold fear took hold as the driver opened his window to inspect the snow-covered windscreen. These were not ideal driving conditions. Still, it was undeniably beautiful. With no proper camera and darkness still clinging to the landscape, the snow-covered towns remained hazy silhouettes. As daylight slowly emerged, a pristine white world revealed itself. We were barely moving. The sixteen-hour journey stretched closer to twenty…
Inch by inch, we crept forward along what could only be assumed to be the road. Abandoned trucks and cars appeared every few minutes, their drivers nowhere in sight — hopefully safe at home, away from the cold and impossible conditions. Still, our drivers pressed on toward Gaziantep.
One week later, the snow has melted, and the city no longer feels quite so unfamiliar. I’m settling into a strange new routine, adjusting to a very different way of living — one I’ll share more about in my next diary entry.
