Galata Bridge, Istanbul Your feet in Europe, your eyes on Asia, the only border is the ocean-blue Bosporus.
just a glimpse, stay tuned for more to explore MilesAstray unfolds in retrospect. I was living these stories full time, now I'm making space to pen them down. Head over to the countries section for the latest places/stories and completed countries.
glimpse: TRRROIA | It sounded something like “Trrroia” when my Turkish bunk bed neighbor in Istanbul gave me a travel suggestion. Our conversations were pleasant, but never made it too far past smiles and the mutual understanding of Raki and cigarettes; right now I had no clue what he was saying, but it was evident by his incomprehension of my incomprehension that “Trrroia" was of some significance. When it dawned on me, he had rewritten history in my mind with only one word: Troy was no longer a faint myth of the Iliad, but an actual place witnessed by ruins. Meanwhile the actual Hollywood horsie adorns the seafront of nearby Canakkale.
glimpse: "ADVENTURE" | For many the premise of travel is “adventure”, may that be in form of “adventure” activities or by defining travel in itself as synonymous with “adventure”. Yet, maybe “adventure” is simply the most overused word in the travel industry. Cambridge defines an adventure foremost as an unusual activity, while Merriam Webster mentions unknown risks. Fair enough, I am cherry picking my favorite definition, but isn’t that the quintessence of real adventures (the ones without quotation marks)? At least to me it was since childhood days. It was exploring the unknown, without a path, a map, let alone GPS or my parents’ consent– venturing into a forest, following a little creek, roaming through corn fields and mines. This picture captures the moment I spotted a little village chiseled out of rock in the far distance, while marveling at the otherworldly landscape of Turkey’s Cappadocia region. It was right there and then that some boyish explorer instinct kicked in to shove me towards the unknown that pulled me in simultaneously. And so I ditched the map and the hiking paths with their stringent signposts and rules to set off and find my own way, my only compass being the afar village. I had no idea how far it was, whether I could overcome the looming canyons in-between and make it there before nightfall, or where I would take it from there; but isn’t that what an adventure is all about?
The sun painted its favorite colors all over the sky's canvas.
Galata Tower, Istanbul
places / stories
Cappadocia / Little Moments of Trailblazing in a Charted World
yet to be written
Istanbul / The Small Things
yet to be written
Troy / Didn't Know You Were Here
yet to be written
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