Nurin POV
Hotel Taxi
I'm feeling a bit uneasy about how to start a conversation with the service car driver, especially after noticing him glancing at me in the side mirror while giggling. It made me wonder—what could be so funny? I really don’t want to come off as rude, especially since I want this vacation to be one of the best experiences of my life, as if there were no more days left to enjoy.
I reach into the side pocket of my backpack, which is resting on my right side, and take out my iPhone. Using my thumbprint, I unlock it, then turn on my 4G to connect to the internet so I can use the Google Translate app to translate from English to Turkish.
I begin typing: “How many minutes are there before we arrive at the hotel?” (Turkish: Otele varmadan önce kaç dakika var?) I try to pronounce it so I can ask the driver: “Uhm… Otele…varmadan… o…önce…” But before I can finish, the driver cuts in with a smile and says, “Ms. Nurin Imad, it's okay for you to speak English. I do speak English, and everyone at the hotel does as well. So, please feel at home.”
I took a deep, calming breath—Turkish is honestly so difficult to pronounce. I turned back to him with a smile and said, “Oh, thank you. I’m really having a hard time understanding your language, sorry. And you are...? Sorry again, I forgot to ask your name.”
He replied, “I’m Mr. Husaam, but everyone calls me Hush. And to answer your earlier question, we’re about 15 minutes away from the hotel. I’ll be your driver for the entire duration of your stay in our beautiful country. So just relax. The head receptionist will take care of your itinerary.”
I gave Mr. Husaam a grateful smile to show my appreciation. Then I put my earphones back in and started listening to Justin Bieber’s 10,000 Hours. I mouthed the lyrics softly, gently swaying my head from side to side in rhythm.
This country is truly stunning—if I could choose where to die, this place might just be it. But reality reminds me that I’m only a traveler, searching for a place to temporarily call my own.
I rolled down the window to let the breeze in and savored the peaceful, warm air. It’s autumn—and to me, that’s the very definition of peace. This feels like the perfect place for some soul-searching.
 It's not just the country that’s beautiful—everything about this place feels wonderful. The people, especially the Turkish locals, are incredibly kind and welcoming. They carry a warm presence and a charm that radiates from the heart. I truly feel that my vacation here will be safe and pleasant; I don’t think I have much to worry about.
Even if I get lost, I trust that someone here would be willing to help. Yes, I’ve read some blogs and articles that mention petty crimes like pickpocketing, but overall, this country is among the safest places a solo female traveler can explore. I stand by that. This may seem like a typical soul-searching trip to some, but for me, it's a meaningful journey—especially since it’s the first time my parents have let me out of their sight.
I’m genuinely enjoying this ride, knowing that Mr. Husaam is such a kind and thoughtful person. Besides just driving me to the hotel, he’s also been sharing helpful facts and fun trivia about this beautiful city.
Istanbul—the capital of Turkey—is fascinating, and as an Asian girl, I can see familiar touches in its culture and streets that feel oddly comforting. Although this is a Muslim country, it's very welcoming to people of all religions. The community here is open and accommodating, making it a place where anyone, from anywhere, can feel at home.
It almost seems like this country was designed for tourism. And even if I don’t get to complete this trip the way I want to, I’ll still pray that I can return someday—healthier, and with my happy family by my side.
Yes, when I say “healthy,” I mean in every sense—physically, mentally, and emotionally. I know this might be my only chance to take this journey. It’s a much-needed break, not just from routine, but from the quiet burdens I carry. My family is close to breaking, and I know that in a single moment, I could be gone—for good. That’s why my parents were so hesitant to let me travel alone.
 I also found myself wondering—what if my family had come with me? I don’t think things would be much different. They’d probably be just as lively, especially my dad, who’s always been the joker of the family—or maybe just to me. Not necessarily because I’m the favorite, but because he’s always had a soft, vulnerable side that shows around me.
And of course, Mom would be right by Dad’s side, constantly reminding him to maintain his masculinity—because, as she often says, you never know who you might run into. To her, being firm and professional is always important. Then there’s Nuha, who would most likely bring along her medical textbooks to keep herself occupied.
But enough of those thoughts—I came here simply to enjoy life and take a break from the everyday routine I’m used to back home. It’s not that I’m upset with my family; I just needed some time to be by myself.