bra - I mean, boat summer

By the time you’ll read this, summer is coming to an end.
The last rays of sun are caressing the early October sky before we head into a long, dark winter.

For me this is usually a time of coming back to reality; finding a steady rhythm after the freedom (read chaos) of the summer. As a virgo, I thoroughly enjoy the months where summer turns into autumn. I get to celebrate my analytic, perfectionist side. It’s a time to nerd out on any possible project or perfect my skills. This year, I even decided to go back to school (!!)

I don’t know if my summer could be classified as a brat summer.
Between frantically househunting, moving and looking for a job, I didn’t really have the time to get my Julia on. However, there were a few occassions where I might have gotten close. At least, if you were on the outside, looking in….

I found myself on three boat tours this July alone. Not one of them went without the possible risk of emptying  the entire content of my stomach. Yet, it did get me thinking:
Do you ever wonder about what it would be like to be rich? Do you ever fantasise about all the dumb, filthy, stupid stuff you would do with no regard to anyone or anything else? Like going on one of those horrible transatlantic cruises for example?

I’m not much of a materialist whatsoever, but if I were rich, I think I would want to own my own yacht–A big one too, with a kitchen, a bedroom and as many chaise longues as I could fit.
I would invite all my friends onto my boat, to host the best dinner parties or to simply lay in the sun the whole day, turning around every 15 minutes like buns on a grill.

Too bad that I get seasick every single damn time I set foot on a boat.
Let me tell you how it went down the last three times.

no. 1

It started with the worst one of them all– possibly even the worst one ever.
I had taken a boat tour in Turkey before, on which I had been sick , yet still enjoyed it. This one however, can’t even be called enjoyable. It was one of the hottest days yet in Kuşadası, a town near Izmir, reaching an almost scorching 40° Celcius. We had arrived in Izmir the day before on a guided bus tour, leaving from Istanbul at night. We hadn’t been able to sleep on the road at all, and were up all day visiting place after place. Don’t forget, we also had to deal with fifty other people on the bus, who seemed to  love getting annoyed at any minor inconvenience.

Granted, we were tired.

When the tour guide proposed a boat tour, I was hesitant because of my prior experiences, but I took the chance. We had nothing better to do anyway, and it was rather cheap. Maybe we could even relax a bit after the chaos over the last few days. The tour was supposed to last six hours, and promised to take us to three beautiful places close to the coastal town.

Soon after getting on, we realised why it was cheaper than the others. It moved at about the speed of a rowing boat, which only seemed to make us rock from side to side instead of actually moving forward. If only we would’ve seen some hidden gems, with the clearest water. Instead they stopped three times around the busy, tourist coastline, where the water was cloudy and the beautiful sights were nowhere to be found. On top of it all, the most annoyingly loud remixes of radio hits were blaring right by our faces. Seriously, what is wrong with the original version of ‘Rolling In The Deep'‘??

All I wanted was some quiet time to enjoy reading my book. Instead, imagine me laying under the blazing sun with a towel on my head, trying to remain calm. After about five hours of this unbearable torture, other people started to get just as fed up as well. One girl ended up throwing up on another girl, which then made her throw up, too. I guess this was the final cue for the boat crew to end whatever they were doing, and so we headed back to shore early. I walked off this forsaken boat with burnt knees, a mild case of tinnitus and an informed aversion to boats.

no. 2

I didn’t think that I’d get on a boat any time soon after that. Until I was convinced to do so, only a week after. Apparently this tour, in Göcek, was worth risking it all again. Göcek is a town that is known for its harbour with plenty of yachts, waiting for their rich owners to take them for a little ride. Apparently, famous Turks love to spend their brat summers in this cosy town– And I don’t blame them.

This time, we double checked before boarding: “No music on this boat?. Thank god!”. To my suprise, this tour actually took us places! There are twelve islands around the coastline, with green cliffs and the prettiest of bays. We saw a famous painting on a rock, climbed through the ancient Cleopatra Hamam, walked around one of the islands and swam in the clearest, warmest of waters. My seasickness was under control, and I even got to read some pages of my book. Succes!

It was here where I could gradually start to see the advantages of living on a boat. For example, I discovered there is such a thing as supermarket yachts. (?!) It’s literally a Carrefour sailing around on the water of the Aegean Sea, servicing those who own a yacht…. or an island.  Now this is the kind of life I can get behind.

no. 3

A few weeks later, I was in Malta with my friends. Knowing they’d want to book the famous “sunset boat tour”-- I already panicked. This time I just had to power through. The struggle, however, already started before we even got on the boat. Mediterranean taxi drivers are simply built differently. Traffic rules are taken as a suggestion and any speed limit is unheard of. So there we were, sitting in the cab on our way to the start of the tour, holding on for dear life. When you’ve experienced the feeling that you might throw up at every given point in a moving vehicle, you know that the only thing you can do is look straight ahead while counting down the minutes.

Just 8 more minutes,
5 now,
We’re almost there,
Just keep breathing,
2 minutes,
Here, have some water,
We made it!

After what felt like an eternity on the road; we now still had to get through the hardest part; the one on the sea. A boat – way smaller than  expected - arrived at the shore with the friendliest captain of all ready to show us around. The tide was already quite strong as we took off, rocking from side to side. My friends started drinking wine but I wasn’t going to test my stomach.

In the end, we had an amazing time! The captain took us to some nice places, where we could swim, snorkel, paddle and feel like we were from the deep blue underworld. Sometimes, when a big boat would arrive in the same waters as ours, our little boat would start swaying heavily. The one time I decided to climb back onboard, we swayed so hard, the captain gave us a look of sheer panic, trying to get the boat under control. Let’s just say I was happy, yet again, to be on solid ground.

Who knows if one day I’ll fully get on with boatlife?

Living close to the sea does make me a calmer and happier person. So, don’t be surprised when I live on an island in a few years. Maybe I’d organise my own tour across my local waters. Maybe I’d just cruise in my private yacht by myself at full speed, living like a Mamma Mia’s Donna.

To be honest, I’d be happy if I get to -even just once- buy my zucchini and tomatoes on a floating Carrefour, alongside the rich and famous of Turkey.

See you next summer.

new lock, new keys, new moon

I'm not good at goodbyes. I leave cities in the middle of the night, like a ghost, and then lock myself up for days. It took me a while to step foot outside again in Belgium, to unpack my suitcase or to finish this blogpost I started months ago. I’m a procrastinator at heart but this time it wasn’t like that. I simply had a hard time processing my feelings, putting them into words, all while dealing with moving back, trying to graduate and living through an unoriginal identity crisis.

But here we are, finally. 

As my last month in Istanbul is finishing up, it's time for me to write my final blogpost about my time here. Writing this means my time here is running out, which is a bitter pill to swallow. As much as it saddens me to leave this city and its people. I’m also excited for the next chapter with lots of exciting opportunities. Being back home for a while and seeing all the cute familiar faces that I missed dearly.

I’m grateful for the crazy adventure Istanbul was. Thinking about it, it’s pretty weird a seemingly random place I decided on last year, now holds so many memories to me. When I left 6 months ago, I really felt like I had to get out for a while. We all can get the feeling we’re stuck in our way of living or thought patterns. Even though I was pretty happy and comfortable with my life in Belgium, I needed something new, something exciting. With not many things keeping me from going, I grabbed the chance when I had it.

The good, the bad, the ugly

As someone who never had a plan, not even a “pla”, in my life, I always thought I could move wherever, roam around freely, live from love or the savings of whatever mediocre job gets thrown my way. As you might have noticed, I love to romanticize my life to make it a bit more bearable. But actually doing it, packing your bags and moving to another country was more daunting than I thought. 

Besides all the enrichment, crazy stories and absolute bliss this journey gave me, things have not always been easy. I jumped into it head first, not thinking it through too much. Somehow, I weirdly felt comfortable quickly, knew my way around pretty fast and even passed for a local to some. Yet, I never really stopped feeling like an outsider, observing the people and their habits. Then again, I’m probably like this anywhere I go, all the time. 

It’s hard being away from friends and family, getting used to a different culture with their own habits and quirks, while not understanding a language. At least for a while, that place really does become a home. It’s your job to make it a cozy and welcoming one. 

A damn ride

I only realized how crazy the past 5 months really were until I came back home. My friends even demanded a full PowerPoint presentation to fill them in. You ask, I deliver. It’s been a damn ride Istanbul. I’ve had some magical moments, some pretty terrible ones, some lonely ones and some filled with love and laughter. 

I still remember arriving in my neighbourhood, at 12 pm, loaded with a heavy suitcase, no internet, no sleep and struggling to find my apartment. The first night pretty much set the tone for the rest of the semester. Exciting, sweaty and pure chaos. I got to live with two amazing people. Taking a gamble on who you’re going to live with is always a risk but turns out, our flat collected the most badass girls in town. One of them is kicking ass in a worldwide cocktail competition. The other one is the the most badass taekwondo rockstar I know. 

Both of them got me through some of the harder days here. From getting overwhelmed by the big city, uni or just life, a simple movie night with them would recharge the three of us instantly. We were able to see the humor in every situation, which is something you have to be able to do when living abroad. Not taking ourselves too seriously became a weapon of choice.

My first month was intense. Going out a lot more than I usually do, meeting new people,… the summer just never seemed to end. My body thanked me for the overdose of vitamin D I got (and hated me for the overdose of beer). Everyday became a funny collection of happenings. From getting on a motorcycle slightly drunk, ending up in a crowd of people dancing or crossing the Bosporus for the first time at night. Highly recommend the last one, never gets old.

It’s funny how my last month here almost felt exactly like the first one, although now, I feel a bit more local rather than a tourist. I’ve found the cute cafés, I know where to get the best food, and might've even found the best parties too. The thing is, you still see a place in a completely different light than people who’ve lived there their whole lives. You don’t see the little frustrations, you don’t even understand what people say most of the time. A privileged and carefree way of living, especially in Turkey.

When abroad you’ll spontaneously meet a lot of people and make friends quickly. Everywhere from a radio station, a cocktail bar to a pole dancing class. You have to, it’s a surviving mechanism. Sometimes they show you a completely different way of living, putting your own into perspective. As per usual, your last weeks will be your best. As if running out of time makes you enjoy every little thing more. Connections get deeper, it starts to feel like home, like you could just stay there forever.

I truly believe that I was meant to meet all the people I’ve met, go through all of the stages of living here, feel all the feelings and learn all the lessons. I’m sure you’ve heard people say that visiting new places makes you discover new parts of yourself. I like to see it as if I’m scattered around hidden corners of the world and it’s my job to find the bits and pieces. The fun little scavenger’s hunt we call life.

You’ll get lonely at times, sure. You’ll question your motives why you even left your comfort zone in the first place. The loneliness when being abroad is still not talked about enough. It’s a natural part of leaving home. The only difference is, you can’t just call every number in your phone to hang out. Yet being in a city this lively never made me truly feel that way. If anything, you get more independent than ever. If you can survive in Istanbul, you can pretty much do so everywhere.

Returning

When you’re in a new place, a lot of self-development happens, knowing what you want and what you don’t want. The city made me realize it doesn’t really make sense to pretend…ever. Take me for what I am or leave me.

For a while I was scared I might lose this version of myself. The one who’s careless, positive, curious and happy. As if not being in the place that cultivated it, would take all those traits away. But in fact, they were there all along, just needed the right time and place to come out. 

I didn’t have to think about being anyone else than myself at this moment. Had nothing to prove. Just wanted to spend every moment enjoying it.

A slight identity crisis after an erasmus experience might occur. Picking up your life where you left it might be hard. You can tell some stories, show some pictures,.. but they won’t know how you felt there, how it changed you.

Although I might never be the same again, this version of me now will change and grow into the person I’ll be tomorrow. Taking all the experiences and lessons with me and building a new story on top of it. My roommate once told me as we were changing the locks “new lock, new keys, new moon”, a piece of wisdom I’ll never forget. Sometimes you have to mess everything up to start all over again. But I guess I’ll always carry a bit of Istanbul with me, wherever I go.

The only appropriate way I could end my Istanbul saga is with this track made by dj, producer and Digital Ivan. I had the pleasure of dancing to his unmatched tunes several nights during my time there.

We shared many conversations about the concept of home, travelling and finding inspiration from new places and people. After reading my blog he got inspired himself.
Thank you Ivan for bringing a whole semester to life in one track and brining a smile to my face everytime I listen to it.

As I said, I’m not good at goodbyes. So let’s not make it one…

Until next time, Istanbul

Capricorn moon, cheesecake and offending old men

Indulgence

It’s not a concept I grew up with. It’s something I learned later on in life. As children, we never got spoiled, unlike our classmates or friends from around town. Don’t get me wrong, I had everything I needed, the basics were simply enough and everything else was seen as extravagant.

At one point, I had to learn how to treat myself, how to allow myself to do things purely for the pleasure of doing them; no guilt whatsoever. It wasn’t even that long ago that I realised life isn’t just about your academic career or achievements but about the little things. About the moments you can spend with people that bring a smile to your face, no matter what it is you're doing. Just like I didn’t grow up with the concept of indulgence, neither was I taught that success will determine my value. Instead, I learned how to give society just enough of what it expects of me to not chew me up and spit me out. I’m lucky to  have parents who didn’t push their own goals or wishes onto me. I experience a lot of freedom in my life; in my way of thinking, my career, my lifestyle. At least if I, myself, don’t put this pressure on me. Aaah, the perfect opportunity for depression and anxiety to lurk around the corner!

‘Omg you’re such a virgo’

I guess things changed once the school system interrupted my previously carefree life. Although, I believe this was just the perfect opportunity for my annoyingly driven Capricorn moon energy to have its time to shine. Something for her to sink her teeth into and put some unrealistic expectations on myself. This game of winning and losing really didn’t come to a stop until the post-pandemic realisations of how precious sharing everyday joy is.  

Has anyone ever read their birth chart by the way? Being in Turkey for too long just forces you to get into astrology since everyone here is. People ask me “What’s your sign? ”before asking my name. I won’t bother you with some spiritual plea, but I do advise you to hop on the trend and just look into it. It’s another way of self-discovery, just like therapy, meditation, tarot reading... Whether you believe in it or not, it makes you think about who you are and your actions. 

Apparently, from what I’ve read, I thrive on this never-ending flow of activities. Capricorn moons get their satisfaction through their accomplishments. I still fall into the trap of trying to balance everything at once all the time. Sure, I’ll go to university, cook a full dinner, call my mom, finish my essay and go to some open mic all in one day. Burn-out incoming. Je sais, Je sais. I go crazy if I’m not doing something all the time. Busy schedules make me hornier than anything yet I end up procrastinating and running after myself constantly. In the last few years I’m always balancing between two extremes: either being highly productive and letting myself be lazy, and wanting to be in the spotlight and shying away as far as possible, or being up to no good whilst also craving some wholesomeness. Pretty sure I’ll find some explanation for this in my chart, I’ll keep you updated.

Pleasure and pain 

Sometimes you really need to sit back and realise how happy you are in the moment. Hedonism* might have just become my life philosophy of choice. Depriving yourself of the simplest joys is such a waste of time.

I force myself to wake up every day and at least have one thing to look forward to, I don’t care if it might sound stupid to other people. Make a damn list of the silly things you want to do, alone or with someone else that would make your inner child happy. Or try to make the most mundane things fun. You don’t want to know how many times cleaning my bathroom while jamming to my favourite Dua Lipa album was the highlight of my day.

Not everything you do has to have a rational explanation. “I do this because it feels good, because I get pleasure out of it”. Hearing this has made me look back on my own actions. Why do I do things? Am I getting any pleasure out of my daily activities? Especially since living in a different country, where the normal flow of your life is completely interrupted. People of Mediterranean cultures tend to live their lives with an attraction towards pleasure. Being away from capitalist culture for a while has sucked me up in the flow of instant feel-good actions. The thing is, I have no plan here, no expectations or no specific goals that I set out for myself. For once, it feels freeing to have time for self-development, self-expression and joy.

Let them eat cake

I’ve been trying to find the best cheesecake in town for months now. Each time I try a new one, I really take time to indulge in all the flavours and textures. When the bite just melts on your tongue with zero effort. Perfection.

Do you want to know the worst feeling ever? When you feel like you’re on the backseat, just watching your life pass by instead of living it. When you feel so numb you can’t even taste how damn fucking good the cheesecake you’re eating is. Guess it makes me appreciate my 46th San Sebastian even more, having gone through this.

Indulgence is not something they teach you in school. Pleasure was a hard thing to grasp for me, not realising it’s partly made up by our own actions and mindset. One that you can easily trigger if you let yourself. If you have a hard time living your indulgent life here are a few of my favourite practices so far:

• Smoke cigarettes on the bed, preferably naked. Trust me, it will make you feel the most French you’ve ever felt.

• Eat all the possible desserts in your neighbourhood and list them from best to worst.

• Put on your headphones, skip down the street in your fishnets, offend some bitter old men but live your main-character moment.

• Spontaneous dancing with friends in your local bar on a random Thursday night. Make everyone wish they were giving as little fucks as you are.

• Watch as many movies as you can in one day, only leave your room to open the door for your uber eats package.

• Practise your terrible voguing moves until sweat is running down your chin.

• Pet all the dogs you meet on your morning walk.

• Steal the posters from every event you go to in a week.

Daily dose of weirdness

Another form of indulgence I’ve been practising has been through embracing every weirdness I encounter. No better place to do this than in a city like Istanbul. Where there’s huge dogs keeping guard over the city at night and cats jumping at you from every corner. Walking down the pier of the Anatolian side, you see a perfect collection of strangeness. Women selling a collection of colourful flowers, the smell of roasted chestnuts fills your nose, some protestors shouting, a band playing some traditional music all the while some lovey-dovey couples are entering a ferry to get to a different continent. 

The funniest thing is, after a while I started looking at scenes like this as a new normality. Now I even embrace the weirdness and see it in the mundane things of Istanbul life. Just the other week, my roommate and I (finally) got our resident permit fixed. After a few months of living, studying and working here we might as well be here legally, we figured. The most stressful day of our adventure here so far, all of a sudden got super light because of a taxi driver. The man probably spent a good half an hour proudly showing us his holiday family pictures; his daughter at the beach, him posing with all the fish he was about to eat, romantic selfies with his wife… “çok güzel, çok güzel!”, was about all we could answer while laughing.

A beautiful sunset in the background made this whole scenery even more absurd, yet aesthetically pleasing. Of course, the taxi driver took some pics for his collection. I’m sure his next passengers will have the honour of seeing them. It’s the daily dose of weirdness like this that gets me through the ride of life!

*The word 'hedonism' comes from the ancient Greek for 'pleasure'. Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that only pleasure or pain motivates us.

Stones and postcards

We collect souvenirs

of the places we visit

Stones and postcards

fill up our suitcases

only to give them away

or to collect dust

in a box,

in a basement

of a place we call home.

Every piece tells a story

of the people

the nights,

the words

and the feelings.

We couldn’t take those memories

Only to lock them away

in a box,

in a basement

They live on 

in a place we call home.

Ourselves.

✴

Princes’ Islands

11th September 2022

☾ yakamoz ☽

Weifelend

raakt de maan het open water van de oceaan,

kust haar woelig oppervlak.

Kletterend

blijft de stroom onstuimig doorgaan,

komt pas tegen de golfbreker echt tot rust.

Eb, vloed, eb en dan weer vloed

Een eindeloze cirkel

De vrouwelijke curves van de maan verleiden de golven

laten hun dansen op het ritme van de nacht,

háár nacht.

Ze lacht onheilspellend naar de zon

die langzaamaan plaatsmaakt voor haar lichtspel.

Wanneer de tijd rijp is ontvouwt ze zich zacht

In glinsterende stralen,

een magische reflectie.

Die je meeneemt naar de grens

tussen realiteit en fictie.

Haar tranen parelen neer

als fonkelingen in een sterrenhemel.

Haar oranje gloed bekleedt je huid.

Je wilt wegsmelten in de vloeiing,

één worden met het ruime sop.

Zinken naar de bodem,

daar waar de leegte begint en de Aarde stopt.

Eb, vloed, eb en dan weer vloed

 Een eindeloze cirkel

De maan kijkt tevreden neer.

Enkel haar mysterieuze schemering blijft achter,

als een deken op de horizon.

De verloren zielen van de nacht neemt ze mee,

voor als ze morgen nog eens lonkt.

⋆⁺₊⋆

yakamoz /jakaˈmoz/

From Ottoman Turkish یقاموز‎, یاقاموز‎ (yakamoz), from Greek διακαμός (diakamós)

Definition:

phosphorescence in the sea due to bioluminescent dinoflagellates

or the reflection of moonlight or other lights on water

23

Has anyone ever written about turning 23? It’s the forgotten age, the middle kid. Is it because we’re secretly heartbroken that we can't scream along to 22 by Taylor Swift anymore? That one time on my birthday last year, drunk in the cab home, was enough for me. She had her moment, let’s move on.

Why is it that we reflect on our lives every time a birthday comes close? As if we’re losing grip on our way of living just because the number is changing. In the end we as humans love to identify ourselves in any way possible. Age is just another way to do that and birthdays are an excuse to reinvent ourselves. I’ll take it! Watch me get seven tattoos and dye my hair purple in the next week.

23 is a weird age if you ask me. You’re on the verge of adulthood yet your teenage years are still holding on to you for dear life. You still remember being the youngest one in the room, when now most of the time you feel the opposite. You haven’t forgotten what it’s like to drink bottles of cheap wine in your best friends’ room. Hey, you might have been doing that last weekend, who knows. But do you feel like a grown-up? Are you what you expected yourself to be at this age? Or worse, what society expects you to be. God, I hope I’m not.

I still remember when I was around 10-11 wondering what being 20-something would be like. My nephews and nieces, who’re all quite a bit older than I am, looked like full blown adults to me. Damn, they were so cool. Will I ever be that cool? More than 10 years later, I don’t think I’m able to answer that question objectively. But is the world still equally as daunting? Yes, absolutely yes. Do adults still freak you out? I’d say so. Do you have a house, a partner, kids, a job?? Chill down honey, I don’t even have my drivers license.

Yet you’ve already had a significant amount of life experience to be able to make some -not always the smartest- life decisions. Like moving to a different country all by yourself. Huh, what?? If you do mess up, you won’t get judged too harshly at this point in life. You’re young, dumb and probably broke but pretty much okay with that. Nobody knows what they’re doing anyway, right? Or is this just a commonly accepted excuse used by miserable people to give their lives a bit more sense? 

Being 22 was pretty damn great and hard at the same time.

I feel like I got way more comfortable with who I am this last year. I discovered a lot of assets about me that I didn’t even know were there. Exploring your identity, along with the world around you is a crucial part of your early twenties. For me this means taking chances and listening to whatever your heart tells you to do. Even if that means taking the difficult route.

I met a lot of amazing people, danced one to many nights away and felt more independent and happy than ever. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last year it’s to not push things too hard, especially myself. 

Things happen for a reason. People come and go. Oh, one last sappy overused quote you ask? Don’t be so damn hard on yourself!!! (you’re welcome)

21-year-old-me was still… well exactly that. She tried really hard to be someone she’s not, only to become someone to other people. It’s exhausting to make yourself feel like you need to fit in somewhere, when you know you never really will. It’s even more suffocating to feel like you need to be the best (read coolest, funniest, smartest, most talented, busiest AND hottest) version of yourself all the time.

I think I’ve learned to see the beauty in imperfection, in averageness, even in pain and loneliness.

Now what would I tell myself a year ago? It’s okay to not be on top of your game yet. It’s okay to have no idea where you’re going sometimes. As long as you keep moving and growing. As long as you’re honest about who you are. People will appreciate that in you. Maybe even, if you’re feeling bold, show your soft side every once in a while. We all know it’s there anyway. But please never lose your resting bitch face. It’s not only your trademark but also a tool that will come in handy greatly in the next few years!

“Soooo, what do you want to achieve while being 23?”

Come on, cut me some slack. I’m someone who rarely knows what I’m up to. One second I might want to get a masters degree in philosophy. The next day I’m watching youtube videos on how to become a yoga instructor. For now I’m more than okay with being exactly where I am. That’s a first and hopefully not a last. I’m okay with falling in love with the little things again like writing, painting or dancing. With drinking my morning coffee on the balcony, watching the city slowly wake up with me. Or just with chilling with the local café cats. How could I not be?

Spending my last weeks as a 22-year-old in Istanbul has been amazingly grounding. It has made me reconnect with a part of me that I seem to forget about sometimes. My dreamy side or my hippie side, some may call it. I call it my…”I could leave everything behind to travel the world all by myself and be absolutely fine with it” side. My dad just calls it my “you need to come back down to reality” side. Fine, I’ll get a degree, find a boring job and pay taxes like everyone else.

There’s just something so incredibly freeing about being away from your comfort zone for a while. Discovering new places, cultures, even people. It’s the one feeling that I know I’ll crave forever. 

I can only hope this next year is filled to the brim with love, adventure and some more -not always the smartest- life decisions . Aaand maybe some baklava and rakı to celebrate tonight, why not!

☀

Istanbul ♡

As I’m writing my first article for this blog, I’m sitting in the cutest little café called Küff Café, located in Kadiköy, Istanbul. People from all over the city (yes, some even cross the damn river!) come to have breakfast in our street, known for its many amazing coffee places. As I take a sip from some fresh Turkish tea, I look out on the street. Young people pass by, dressed in laid back summer outfits, their hair dyed in crazy colors and their arms covered in tattoos. The bohemian vibe of this place is showing in all kinds of ways.

Arriving in Turkey in September, when summer isn’t quite over yet but fall is only a distant memory, gives me a sense of anemoia. Nostalgia to things I never actually lived through. Like family dinners with traditional music playing in the background. To warm evenings at the local bar with hometown friends. To long conversations on the beach, wrapped in blankets while smoking cigarettes.

Crying on the plane is the new crying on the dancefloor

I’ll miss Brussels, there I said it. For someone who doesn’t get attached to places easily, this city might just be my soft spot. Home has always been a strange concept to me. I can find it in people, in music, in art, even in myself, but rarely in a city or a house. Yet the feeling of home can be comforting. Maybe I finally started feeling like that again, now that it is slipping away.

I’ll miss the people, the dancing and the feeling of belonging there.

So yes, I cried on the plane. And yes, the old man next to me along with the flight attendants were judging me. But it felt good as hell! Maybe it was my sentimental side taking over. If you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be hopping on a plane to go live in a different country, all by myself, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. Here I am, in a different continent doing exactly that. I felt excited, proud and scared at the same time.

But seeing how the most amazing people support me in this adventure, makes me extremely happy and grateful! Tears of joy is what they call it, right? Or maybe I was just being overly dramatic because of the two hours of sleep and the still very high percentage of alcohol in my blood, you decide.

“Don’t forget your passport this time!”

“And be on time for once in your goddamn life!”. I know I’m not the most organised person so my friends were absolutely right to tell me this. Suprisingly a 26 kilo suitcase and a slight hangover couldn’t even stop me from missing my flight. Unlike that time I tried going to Poland, only to realise I forgot my passport in the scanner. But let’s talk about that another time!

For those of you who are wondering what the hell I'm doing in Turkey. I’ll be studying at Yeditepe University for one semester as part of an Erasmus. When people ask me why Istanbul, I have a hard time explaining. No, I’ve never been here before, no I don’t know anyone here or even knew that much about the country to begin with. Maybe that’s exactly why I was immediately interested to spend some time here.

A city where I know absolutely nothing or no one? Count me in!

First impressions

With 15 million (!!) people living here, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. The constant flow of people, cars, even dogs and cats, is something to get used to. For some strange reason I tend to be drawn to chaotic places or even people. It makes a good contrast with the calmness that I radiate, or so I’ve been told.

My first days here have been nothing but paradise. Exploring Turkish cuisine, which I’ll happily eloborate on soon! Catching the sunset at Moda beach. Having beers at a local underground bar. Even just reading my book in one of the many coffee places puts a smile on my face.

It’s been only a few days of living here, yet Istanbul is winning my heart already!