Greetings from Turkey! We’re spending ten days in this beautiful country, splitting our time between Cappadocia, a historic region in central Turkey, and Istanbul, the country’s largest city and cultural capital.

First and foremost — as a cat lover, I think I’ve stumbled upon paradise. There are so many street cats in Turkey, and they coexist with people in the most effortless way, roaming the streets, napping in shops and cafés, even riding on public transportation (or so we’ve been told — I have yet to see it with my own eyes). Most are incredibly friendly, and if you crouch down and greet them with a “pspspsps,” they’ll usually scurry over for a head rub or curl up right in your lap. And you can tell they’re loved; every cat we’ve seen looks healthy, well-fed (some maybe a bit too well fed), and comfortable around humans. It’s not uncommon to see people carrying small bags of kibble to feed cats along their daily route. One of our guides mentioned that her apartment’s HOA fee even includes a voluntary contribution toward caring for the neighborhood cats, covering food, water, and vet visits. As one local put it, “In my next life, I want to come back as a cat in Turkey.”

Cappadocia: The Land of Balloons and Fairy Chimneys

Cappadocia has long been on my travel bucket list — ever since those dreamy photos of hot air balloons floating over an otherworldly landscape started appearing on my Instagram feed years ago. Unlike many visitors, though, we came to watch the balloons, not ride them. At upwards of $300 per person, it wasn’t quite in our travel budget — and, truthfully, my fear of heights didn’t really mind missing out.

Since hot air balloons can’t really be steered (beyond moving up or down), flights only take off at sunrise when the air is cool and still, and only if conditions are perfect. The balloon rides on our first two mornings were canceled due to high winds, but on the third, the skies finally cleared. We woke before dawn, drove to a viewing point, and watched as hundreds of balloons slowly inflated, glowing orange from the fire within. As the sun rose, they drifted upward one by one, until the horizon was dotted with a kaleidoscope of color. At one point, one floated so low that passengers waved down at us from just a few feet overhead. It was simply magical.

The unique landscape not only makes Cappadocia a perfect backdrop for ballooning, but also a great spot for hiking and historical sightseeing. The topography is known for rounded cones and tall rocky spires known as ‘fairy chimneys’ which reminded me a bit of the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon. These formations were shaped by ancient volcanic eruptions that left behind soft tuff rock, eroded over millennia by wind and rain. Because the rock is easy to carve yet naturally insulating, early settlers sculpted entire homes, churches, and fortresses directly into the rock. We spent our days hiking through the valleys and exploring old cave dwellings. We even stayed at one of the many cave hotels in Cappadocia, in a cozy room carved out of the rock. The hotel also came with a sprawling Turkish breakfast every morning and a resident orange cat named Barney, who liked to sneak into our room for naps. Five stars for hospitality.

Perhaps the most incredible part of Cappadocia’s topography and history lies below the surface. Early Christian settlers built vast underground cities to hide from religious persecution, later expanding them during wars and invasions. We visited Derinkuyu Underground City, one of the largest, which extended eight stories deep and once sheltered up to 20,000 people. The tunnels were so narrow we had to crouch and crawl at times, but every chamber — kitchens, wineries, ventilation shafts, chapels, even classrooms — told stories of ingenuity and survival. It was amazing to imagine entire communities living their lives below ground.

On our last day, we treated ourselves to a Turkish bath, or hamam — a centuries-old steam-based cleansing ritual. We started in the hot room to open our pores, followed by an intense full-body scrub that sloughed off what felt like months of travel grime. After a foam massage and a soothing face mask, I felt like I’d been given new skin.

Istanbul: Where Two Continents Meet

Now we’re in Istanbul, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite cities so far. It’s vast and sprawling, literally bridging two continents. The city straddles Europe and Asia, divided by the Bosphorus Strait which feeds into the Black Sea. We’re staying on the European side, which is home to many of the famous landmarks and bustling districts, compared to the Asian side which has a more local, laid-back charm. There’s so much to do and so many cool neighborhoods to explore — each with their own rhythm and vibe. I’ve loved exploring the colorful, timeworn streets of Balat, the bustling cafés of Karaköy, the buzzing nightlife of Beyoğlu, and the artsy shops and bars of Kadıköy on the Asian side. It’s a city full of life and personality.

On our first morning, we visited Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque — two architectural icons that stand face-to-face across Sultanahmet Square. Hagia Sophia came first and has lived many lives: first a Byzantine cathedral built in 537, then an Ottoman mosque, then a museum, and now once again a mosque. When Sultan Ahmed I came to power in the 1600s, he sought to leave his mark with a grand Islamic monument to rival the converted Christian basilica, and so he commissioned the Blue Mosque. It’s a breathtaking masterpiece of Ottoman architecture with majestic white domes, six towering minarets, and intricate blue tiles adorning the interior walls. As I sat on the ground taking it all in, a tuxedo cat wandered over, curled up on my lap, and promptly fell asleep. After half an hour, I reluctantly returned my purring friend to the floor and we crossed the square to Hagia Sophia, its pink-hued stone walls and vast central dome gleaming in the midday sun. The line snaked down the block and the entrance fee was steep, so we admired it from outside before heading to the Grand Bazaar to explore the labyrinth of markets and find lunch.

We rounded out our historical tour of Istanbul at Topkapi Palace. Built in the 15th century after the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople, Topkapi served as the heart of the Ottoman Empire for nearly 400 years, home to sultans, their families, and the empire’s inner workings. We wandered through sunlit courtyards, ornate chambers, and quiet gardens that looked out over the Bosphorus. My favorite section was the Harem, where the sultan’s family lived — a maze of tiled rooms, courtyards, and many, many hamams (they took their bathing seriously!) that offered a glimpse of royal life. The palace kitchens were equally fascinating; at the height of the empire, they employed around 1,300 people to prepare meals for some 10,000 each day. By the end of our visit, I decided that if I’d lived in the Ottoman era (as a man, of course), I’d want to be the kahvecibaşı — the Chief Coffee Maker — a prestigious position entrusted with preparing and serving the Sultan’s coffee. A simple but vital role.

And then, of course, there’s the food. We’ve eaten incredibly well here — from smoky doner kebabs shaved fresh off the rotisserie, to manti (tiny dumplings topped with garlicky yogurt and spiced butter), to balık dürüm (a grilled mackerel wrap with tangy sauce and onions). Most meals have ended with something sweet, like flaky, syrupy baklava. We capped off our culinary adventures with a guided food tour that took us through local markets and hidden neighborhood joints we’d never have found on our own. It was the perfect way to close out our time here — full hearts and fuller bellies.