When you are just planning a trip to Turkey, you have typical images in your head: the sea, tea, baglamas in the background, and bazaars with bright spices. But life here is much more than a postcard from a holiday. It is a mix of traditions, incredible nature, the complex character of megacities and the frenzied Turkish hospitality, which at first surprises you, but then becomes something familiar. In Istanbul, the day begins with the call of the muezzin. Even if you are not religious, it is part of the sound of the city. Then comes Turkish tea. Small, strong, in a tulip-shaped glass. People drink it everywhere: in offices, parks, even in hairdressing salons. A morning walk along the embankment is a special treat. People feed seagulls, catch fish, and some are already doing exercises. Istanbul is alive even at 6 a.m.

Turkish cuisine is love at first bite. There is no such thing as ‘just eating’ here — there is meze, gözleme, menemen, künefe. And also — eggplant in hundreds of variations. If you think you don't like eggplant, you just haven't tried it Turkish style. Food is not only about taste, but also about communication. They won't let you go until you eat ‘a little more,’ even if you can't breathe anymore.

‘Gönül’ is one of those Turkish words that is difficult to translate. It's something like soul, heart, inner kindness. And here, gönül is everywhere. People will help you even if they don't know the language. They will greet you even if you are strangers. Turkey is a country where the feeling of ‘you are not alone’ arises instantly.

It will be difficult at first. Turkish is not a language you can understand intuitively, like Italian or Spanish. But Turks don't expect you to speak perfectly. They appreciate the fact that you are trying. And then, after a few weeks, you'll find yourself ordering coffee and asking for the bill without a translator. Small victories.

Turkey is amazing in its balance. In one neighbourhood, there are mosques, kebabs and men in traditional clothing. A few streets away, there are hipster cafés, galleries and techno parties on rooftops. It is a country that is constantly searching for itself, changing, but at the same time deeply holding on to its roots. And that is what makes it alive, real, and exciting.

Life in Turkey is about openness. But not the glossy, Instagram-worthy openness with quotes about travel, but the real, inner openness. Here, you learn to open up to new people, even if the language barrier forces you to explain yourself with gestures. You open yourself up to new tastes, new habits and rhythms of life that are very different from what you are used to at home. For example, no one is in a hurry here. Turks can sit for hours in a café with a single glass of tea, discussing life, even if it is hot outside or the traffic is crazy. And this teaches you to slow down, appreciate the moment, and just be.

You learn to be more flexible — when your route doesn't go according to plan, when documents take longer to process than expected, when the internet goes down, but instead someone appears who is happy to help without even asking who you are. Turkey changes you gently but profoundly. It teaches you to accept the world not as you imagined it, but as it is: noisy, contradictory, warm, real.

And suddenly, you notice that you smile more at passers-by. That an amulet has appeared in your home to protect you from the evil eye. That you start responding with ‘inshallah’ when talking about the future. That evenings with a view of the sea have become commonplace, but have not lost their magic.

Life in Turkey is not an escape from yourself, it is an encounter with a slightly different version of yourself. More patient. More grateful. And much happier.