Turkey: The Trip We Almost Didn't Take

In this immersive episode of Explorations All Over: Far Flung Adventures, Russ takes you from the streets of Istanbul to the skies over Cappadocia, through the ancient city of Ephesus and into the everyday moments that ultimately changed how he and Duncan viewed Turkey — and perhaps how they saw travel itself.

Featuring:
• the sounds of Istanbul’s call to prayer
• bustling spice markets and hidden neighborhoods
• hot air balloons rising over Cappadocia at sunrise
• underground cities, ancient mosaics and Ephesus
• unforgettable meals and unexpected human connection
• and field recordings captured in the moment throughout the journey

This isn’t just a story about Turkey.

It’s about what happens when you challenge your assumptions and step into a place you don’t fully understand.

Because sometimes the trips we almost don’t take…
become the ones we never forget.

🎧 Companion visuals and videos from the trip can be found on the Explorations All Over YouTube channel (coming soon!)

Transcript

Turkey: The Trip We Almost Didn’t Take

There’s a place you want to visit…but you don’t really know anything about it.

You’ve heard about it.  Maybe read something… seen it on a travel show.

It caught your attention.

Planning a trip to a place you don’t understand isn’t about having all the answers…
 it’s about knowing enough to begin — and letting the rest unfold.  It’s not leaving it to chance, but it’s not having everything set in stone either.

Hey there. I’m Russ.
 Welcome to Explorations All Over — Far Flung Adventures.

Travel is supposed to be an adventure.

New sights.
New sounds.
New tastes.

Everything is new.

Everything is unfamiliar…and if I’m being honest…sometimes it’s a little unnerving.

That was us and the destination was Turkey.

And before this trip, if you had asked me what I knew about it…
 I’m not sure I could have given you a good answer.

Let me let you in on the backstory.  We had booked a cruise that ended in Istanbul but for various reasons decided to cancel.  No problem with the cruiseline; full refund.

The airline, Turkish Airlines, said that we could not get a refund and that we had to use the tickets with a certain period of time.

So, it was either use the tickets or forfeit the money we had paid.  Understandably we opted for the former.

We were left with planning a trip to a place we knew almost nothing about.

We soon asked ourselves how do you plan a trip when you don’t really understand what you’re planning?

You get help.

We realized this wasn’t something we could do on our own.

Duncan contacted an Istanbul-based travel advisor —someone who helped us realize…
 what we didn’t even know we didn’t know.

They gave us a starting point, handled the logistics, and built the framework.

But we still had to decide:

Where to stay.
What to do.
Where to eat.
How we wanted to spend our time.

They gave us the outline.

We had to provide the plot.

What I realized on this trip… is that even when someone helps you plan it…
you still need to know what you’re looking for.

And I’ll be honest…It felt really unnerving.

Not just stepping outside our comfort zone —but stepping somewhere beyond it.

What does it look like when you plan a trip you don’t understand — using help, but still figuring it out yourself?  

When you don’t know where to start… how do you plan a trip anyway?  You don’t do it alone — but you’re not hands-off either.

I should tell you that this episode is going to feel a little different.

It’s less of a travelogue…and more a collection of observations.

Moments.

Reactions.

What it actually felt like to be there —in a place that, for us, felt completely unfamiliar.

I’m going to weave in a lot of field notes…

Thoughts and sounds recorded in the moment —or just after.

Unscripted.

Unfiltered.

And hopefully…the most immersive episode I’ve produced to date.

We landed in Istanbul, got our bags, met our driver and were taken to our hotel.  

We’d checked into our hotel room in Istanbul and were standing on the balcony, even though it was a little chilly.

Then we heard it.

The call to prayer being announced from a local mosque.  The sound seemed to echo all around and we realized that it was not coming from one mosque, but from mosques all around the city.

This was our “aha moment” that hit us…we were really here.

Another came a short while later.

I asked the front desk about using taxis to get around.  Here was my takeaway:

So much of our journey would introduce us to the interweaving of the Christian and Islamic traditions.

The surprise was how deeply rooted Christianity is in Turkey’s history.  We would see it over and over.

Standing inside Hagia Sophia…we couldn’t stop looking up.

There are these massive circular panels…Arabic script… names we didn’t recognize at the time.

Our guide explained—Muhammad… and his descendants.

And in that moment, it felt exactly like what we expected.

A mosque.  A strong Islamic presence.  Something unfamiliar.

But then… he pointed up again.

To a section where the plaster had been chipped away.

And underneath it…was a mosaic.

Jesus.  The Virgin Mary.  St. John.

Not removed.
Not destroyed.
Covered.

And as we kept walking… we started to see more of them.

Fragments.  Faces.   Pieces of something that had been there long before.

And that’s when it started to shift for me.

This wasn’t just a mosque.  And it wasn’t just a church.

It was both.

Layered on top of each other…history preserved, not erased.

And what surprised me… was that this wasn’t a one-off.

We saw it again in Chora Church…

A much smaller space… quieter… more intimate.  Far from the markets and bazaars of downtown Istanbul.

But the same feeling.

Mosaics everywhere.

Stories from the life of Jesus… the Virgin Mary…
images that felt familiar…

in a place where I didn’t expect to find them and how different it felt from what I had expected.

Yes, the call to prayer… mosques everywhere…

but it didn’t feel overwhelming.

It felt… integrated.

Like one part of a much bigger story.  One that would continue to develop and enrich our experience.

If you’re enjoying this…and you want more stories like this…

take a second and follow the show.

And if there’s a place you’ve been curious about…

or even hesitant to visit…

let me know.

Because those are the ones worth exploring.

So much of a culture’s story is told through the food, which we knew very little about aside from kebabs. 

So after spending so much time looking at what had come before, we did something a bit more immediate.

We went back to the hotel, showered and went out for our first encounter with the Turkish people and the food they enjoy.

And that experience brought things back into perspective.

Sitting there… sharing a meal…

the flavors… the smells… the textures…

something as simple as tearing off a piece of warm, freshly baked pita…
dipping it into olive oil infused with herbs…it felt familiar.

Grounding.

Human.

And the warmth of the staff…the way we were welcomed…

it revealed a side of the culture we hadn’t experienced yet.

Already I knew I was going to love Turkey.

I realized pretty quickly that what I thought I understood about Turkey… wasn’t really based on anything I had experienced.

But if dinner felt warm and familiar…

the markets were something else entirely.

The Grand Bazaar… the Spice Market…

They’re not quiet.  They’re not subtle.

They’re chaos.

Loud.  Fast.

Relentless.

Sellers calling out from every direction…trying to pull you in…

leather… shoes… textiles… souvenirs…and to my untrained eye… it all started to blur together.

And if you even pause for a second…
 someone’s there… inviting you in.

That’s how it works.

It’s part of the experience.

And then the Spice Market…

where it’s not just what you see—it’s what you smell.

Bright yellows… deep reds… rich browns…

turmeric… paprika… cinnamon…

rows and rows of color… stacked in perfect patterns…

it felt like walking through a living mosaic.

We were guided into one shop…

sat down…

and the owner began walking us through everything—

Turkish delight… teas… oils… spices…

one thing led to another…

and before we knew it…we had made our selections.

Paid.

And walked out.

We hadn’t gone 15 yards from the shop when Duncan’s phone buzzed.  

Over $1,200.

This is one of those moments I captured right after it happened.

It’s a good reminder…especially somewhere unfamiliar…

don’t be afraid to ask questions.

We learned that one the hard way.

And after that…we needed a reset.

Because up to that point, everything had been… intense.

The sounds.
The crowds.
The constant motion.

So we slowed things down.

And tried to take it all in… from a different perspective.

One of the ways we tried to get our bearings…was from the water.

We took a cruise along the Bosphorus…

and on paper, it seemed like the perfect way to see the city.

And in some ways… it was.

You could see both sides at once.

Europe on one side.  Asia on the other.

A city literally split between two continents.

But I’ll be honest…it didn’t quite impress me the way I expected.

Our guide was focused on the homes…who owned what… how much they were worth…

and I found myself… not really connecting to any of that.

Because that’s not what made this place interesting to me.

What mattered…was what we had been experiencing everywhere else.

The people.
The sounds.
The layers of history.

The feeling of the city… not the price tag attached to it.

What mattered… was what it felt like to actually be in the city.

Which landed us in Taksim Square…the heart of modern Istanbul.

A wide boulevard stretched out from the square…lined with shops… bakeries… coffee spots…

and, not surprisingly… a McDonald’s.

It was busy.
Loud.
Full of life.

People moving in every direction...and no one seemed to be thinking about the layers of history that sat just a short distance away.

And somewhere in the middle of all that…

we heard it again.

The call to prayer.

The same sound that had made us feel like outsiders just days earlier,

didn’t feel unfamiliar.  It felt like part of the rhythm.

And just a short walk from there…we were led to something else we didn’t expect.

St. Anthony of Padua Church.

Right in the middle of all that movement…all that energy…

a Catholic church.

We stepped inside…and it was quiet.

Still.

And as we stood there… listening to the piped in chanting…it hit me.

Just minutes earlier… we had heard the call to prayer echoing through the city.

And now… we were standing in a church…
listening to something completely different…

and yet…it didn’t feel like a contradiction.

It felt like coexistence.

Like both could exist here…
at the same time…
in the same place.

And I realized…this wasn’t something unusual.

This was Istanbul.  And I was beginning to understand it even more.

And soon after the church…
we stopped for lunch.

Not a restaurant you’d plan for.
Not something you’d find in a guidebook or on Trip Advisor.

Just… a place.

The kind where locals go.

Cafeteria-style… trays… homemade food…nothing fancy.

And if I’m being honest…I wasn’t exactly sure what I had ordered.

But it didn’t matter.

Because this is the kind of place we love.

No tourists.  Just people going about their day.

Eating. Talking. Living.

And for a little while…we weren’t visitors.

We were just… there.

And then… we found ourselves in a very different part of the city.

Balat.

Narrow streets.  Colorful buildings.  Laundry hanging from windows.

People sitting outside… talking… watching the day go by.

It didn’t feel like a place you rush through.

It felt like a place you take in, little by little.

It was raining…and we were completely unprepared for it.

But the rain seemed to quiet everything…and bring a sense of peace to the moment.

From there… we made our way up above the city.

To Eyüp Sultan Cemetery.

And for the first time…we could really see it.

The layers of Istanbul.

The scale of it.
 
How far it stretched in every direction.

A city we had been moving through for days…
 suddenly laid out in front of us.

And it didn’t feel overwhelming anymore.

It made sense.

When we first arrived…it felt like too much.

Too unfamiliar.
Too layered.
Too hard to understand.

But standing there…looking out over all of it…it felt different.

Like we had finally found our place in it.

And just as that feeling was settling in…

it was time to leave.

We boarded a short flight…heading deeper into the country.

We arrived late…after dark.

And whatever Cappadocia was…it would have to wait until morning.

We checked into a cave hotel…rooms carved into the rock.

Rooms that felt less like something built…and more like something discovered.

And we ended the night with a quiet dinner.

It was early morning.  Dark.

The bed was warm, but this is what we had come for.

Dressed half-asleep and up to the van, already full with other people.

The ride was quiet.  Everyone either in eager anticipation or sleep deprived stupor.

Rounding a curve in the just barely morning light we glimpsed the first of what would be 100 or more balloons swelling.

Coming to life.  Bursts of light here and there like lightning bugs on a summer evening.

At our launch spot the trailer pulled up with the basket in tow.  But in the distance, both near and far, balloons were rising into the frigid morning.

Gently.

Gracefully.

Silently.

A burst of flame and one rose higher, then another and another in an unrehearsed rhythm.

We watched as our breath misted into the air with them.

Before long we hopped into the basket and with no fanfare rose into the lightening sky.

Here’s what it felt like in the moment.

The cold… unnoticed.

The chatter… gone.

The quiet only interrupted by the bursts of flame as we rose higher and higher.

The slow turn of the basket…

and the sun…breaking over the ridge.

And in that moment, over 3,000 feet in the air…

nothing else mattered.

And Cappadocia…became something else.

If you want to actually see some of this…
I’ve got photos and videos from the entire trip up on the EAO YouTube channel.

We were staying in a room carved into the rock.

A cave.

And somehow… it still had everything you’d expect.

A bed.
A hot shower.
A bathroom.

Ancient… and completely modern at the same time.

And then…we went underground.

Into a city carved beneath the earth.

Narrow passageways… low ceilings… rooms branching in every direction.

A place built for protection… for survival.

And standing there…you realize…

people didn’t just pass through here.

They lived here.

But what stayed with me just as much…were the moments in between.

Driving through small villages…

people sitting outside…drinking coffee…playing backgammon…

an older woman carrying a bucket and mop into her house…

life just… happening.

No performance.

No expectation.

Just… everyday life.

We stopped for lunch in a small local spot…nothing fancy… nothing curated…

just simple food being made…and served…

the way it has been for years.

And once again…it didn’t feel unfamiliar anymore.

That night, it was a clay pot… sealed and slow-cooked…

brought to the table and cracked open right in front of us.

The smell hit first.

Rich… spiced… unmistakable.

And without even thinking about it…

we just dug in.

The next morning… we made our way to Göreme Open Air Museum…

I remember saying this at the time:

and then we were on to Çavuşin.

And somewhere along the way…we stopped at a small stand.

A man… with a simple counter…pressing fresh juice.

Pomegranate.
Orange.
Peach.

It was early in the season…and there weren’t many people around.

And you could tell…this wasn’t just something he did.

It was how he made his living.

We stopped.

Ordered a few juices.

Stood there… talking… watching him work.

And it was one of those moments…

that didn’t feel like sightseeing.

It just felt… real.

And as much as we wanted to hold onto those moments…

our journey was moving on.

Taking us from the quiet rhythms of Cappadocia…to the edge of the Aegean.

Kuşadası.

A coastal town…and the gateway to something much older.

Ephesus.

Walking through Ephesus…you realize this wasn’t just a city.

It was one of the most important centers of the ancient world.

A hub of trade… culture… and early Christianity.

A place where Saint Paul preached…where communities formed around beliefs that still shape the world today.

And just beyond it…the House of the Virgin Mary.

Believed by many to be where she spent her final years.

And standing there…it didn’t feel distant.

It felt connected…to everything we had been experiencing along the way.

And standing there…

it was hard not to think about how much we didn’t know before coming here.

How deeply Christianity is woven into the history of this place…in ways we had never really considered.

And if I’m being honest…that lack of understanding…almost kept us from coming at all.

But now…after everything we had seen…

it didn’t feel unfamiliar anymore.

It felt connected.

Like part of a story we had only just begun to understand.

And then… that night…

we found ourselves in a small restaurant along the harbor…

surrounded entirely by locals.

We were the only ones who didn’t seem to belong.

And yet…we were never meant to feel that way.

Here’s what I thought in the moment.

The waiter walked us through the menu…patiently… helping us choose…

making sure we got it right.

Fresh fish… brought out whole…filleted right at the table…simple… unpretentious…
 and unmistakably real.

Lively conversations all around us…in a language we didn’t understand…

There’s something about hearing conversations in a language you don’t understand… it reminds you how far from home you are.

until… one man leaned over.

He smiled… introduced himself…admitted he’d had a few drinks…

and started talking to us in English…

something he had learned years earlier…from his ex-wife.

And just like that…

we were part of it.

Not watching from the outside…

but sitting right in the middle of it.

Included.

Welcomed.

Walking back to the hotel something occurred to me.

The next day… we headed inland.

To a place that… honestly…started to blur together a bit.

By then… we were a little “history-ed out.”

Trying to imagine what these places once looked like…
what they felt like…
what they sounded like…

it was starting to take some work.

Until we reached the theater…meticulously reconstructed…
steep enough to make you think twice about every step.

And for a moment…it all came back into focus.

But not for long.

Because our next stop…

Pamukkale.

These bright white calcium terraces…almost unreal at first glance…

like something you weren’t quite sure was natural.

Warm water…sharp edges underfoot…and crowds.

A lot of them.

So many… it was hard to move…even harder to take a picture without being photobombed.

And if I’m being honest…

it was a bit of a letdown.

And then… we were back.

Istanbul.

The same sounds…
the same streets…
the same rhythm we had first stepped into…

but this time…it felt different.

We decided to retrace our steps.

Back to Hagia Sophia…
 for a second look.

Back to the Spice Market…
 but this time, no shopping.

In fact… we didn’t even go in.

Back to the restaurant we had found on our first night…

where we were welcomed like old friends.

And it made me wonder…what had we missed the first time?

The cisterns beneath the city…

water as the lifeblood of a place that had endured so much.

A hamam…the Turkish bath experience.

And after everything…it felt like the perfect way to end it.

Turkey sits between continents…
between histories…
between identities.

And from the moment we arrived…it felt like stepping into a place where the past and present exist… side by side.

But if I’m being honest…

before this trip…
I didn’t really understand it.

I couldn’t have told you much about it.

And we weren’t even sure we wanted to go.

And that’s what stayed with me.

How much of what we think we know about a place…isn’t based on experience at all.

It’s just… an assumption.

And what happens when you challenge that?

At the beginning of this episode, I asked a question…
what do you do when you want to visit a place you don’t really understand?

Maybe the answer… is you go anyway.
Not because you have it all figured out —
but because you don’t.

Because somewhere between the unfamiliar sounds…
the moments you don’t fully understand…
and the experiences you didn’t expect…

Something starts to shift.

It stops feeling foreign.

And starts to feel… familiar.

Not because it changed.

But because you did.

And by the end…

what once felt uncertain…doesn’t feel that way anymore.

We almost didn’t take this trip.

And now…

I can’t imagine having missed it.

If this episode resonated with you…

I’d love to hear from you.

Is there a place you’ve been curious about…but just weren’t sure about?

Let me know in the comments and let’s explore that idea.

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Until next time…

I’m Russ.  Thanks for joining me for this Explorations All Over: Far Flung Adventures episode.

Until next time, I’ll see you soon.