Departure Day. Just a head’s up: this will be the last post concerning the day to day affairs of the trip. However, there will be one more post following this one that sums up the experience. So stay tuned and thanks to everyone who might still be reading this!

Flight departs: 1:05 pm. Morning plan: to get up early, say my goodbyes, do last minute souvenir shopping, and then take a cab over to the airport. What actually happened? Groggily awoke to say my goodbyes…and then prompty fell back asleep. Typical. I do manage to eventually drag myself from bed to enjoy that which is heavenly and divine: the hotel’s rain shower. Ahhh amazing.

Once I manage to shove everything I brought back into my carry-on (no small feat, let me assure you), I go down to the hotel lobby to check out before I leave on my souvenir escapade. Again, let me lament what is not to be, for as I enter the lobby I am almost quite literally swept up in a whirlwind of efficiency by my buddy, the bellhop (I really wish I had gotten his name :/). He grabs my luggage, moves me to the front of the line for check out, calls a cab, gives me a seat to sit in, runs my luggage out to the cab, and then gracefully helps me into the cab. All in about five minutes. And I am still, at this point, trying to get my bearings after exiting the elevator.

So yes, I am now currently seated in the front seat of a cab, trying to catch my breath. And I have very little memory how I got there. Haha well, I guess I won’t be doing my souvenir shopping before leaving this morning. But I give my eternal thanks to the awesome bellhop man for all his assistance =).

So the cab ride. Despite me now being able to speak Turkish (haaaa… yeah. right.), the ride is deathly silent. With some soft music playing awkwardly in the background.

But still, it is a very interesting experience. I’m pretty sure that the majority of the trip wasn’t spent on actual roads. Any hint of traffic ahead and my cab driver takes off speeding through parking lots and tiny paths that I’m pretty sure were for pedestrians only.

I also discover we are riding in an ATC, an All-Terrain Cab. Now, I’m all for off-roading it. My minivan and I have had some awesome adventures in the past. But even I am a little bit apprehensive as we approach a giant lake, depth unknown, blocking our entrance to the freeway. Yet, never fear. Despite water being up to our waist level and my fear-induced consideration of converting and fervourously praying for the safety of my body and soul, we do make it through alive. Whew.

Once at Ataturk International airport, I quickly sought out the Lufthansa check in desk. Unfortunately no computer check in screen. Sigh. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers. Oh and at this desk, I encounter my First Dilemma of the trip: my carry-on luggage is overweight. Limit: 8 kilos (which is only like 17 pounds!). My bag? 12.4 kilos. Cue: puppy dog eyes, slightly panicked breathing, stuttered statements concerning my 40 minute layover time, and an overall helpless look. Operation Bend the Rules for Ellen? Success. [Big shout-out to my awesome check-in lady! :D. I owe you one.]

So the plan, as I sit in my window seat about to take off for Munich, is reminisce sentimentally on the wonderful experiences of these last few weeks. You know, some good ole introspective reflection time. Instead, I spend my take off trying to impress a sassy six year old (sorry, six and a half year old) with my newly developed and very extensive Turkish vocabulary. Hmm, I’m not sure if it worked though. She gave me a funny look when I counted “One…two…five”.

Flight itself? Uneventful as I once again partake in my favorite pastime: napping. The only real comment I have about this flight: Lufthansa failed to live up to the German stereotype. They were not on Mezut-time. Due to some slight technical difficulties (They broke the stairs. Don’t ask me how, but the stairs were broken.), our plane landed behind schedule, leaving an entire plane full of angry passengers late for their connecting flights. Enter Second Dilemma – a missed connection.

Now as soon as I heard we were late landing, I relaxed. Everyone else was panicking about getting to their connecting flight. Admittedly I should’ve been too, but by the time I got off the plane, there was only 15 minutes til my next plane took off. So I didn’t even bother. I still had to get through security. Plus side? The security people all thought I was German!

So when I saw several other people who were on my connecting flight all sprinting through the airport, I laughed mockingly. Newbs. I decided to save my time and energy and go straight to the empty Lufthansa help desk. And fifteen minutes later, I see my entire plane come sprinting back to the same desk which now had a super long line. Hahahaha, I revel in my foresight. Ten minutes later, I am on a different flight to Boston.

Scene: angry passengers in a long line at the help desk. Empty airport. Lone girl sprinting through said airport. Arrived at the gate about fifteen minutes before the plane was scheduled to depart. Engines were starting as I took my seat. Success.

[Interlude: at one of the ticket check points along the way, an airport worker turned to me randomly, said ‘You’re beautiful’, turned back around and resumed his conversation. Hahaha I’m touched, but still slightly perplexed.]

Highlights of my flight to Boston:

·         The latter half of the plane was empty. People grabbed entire rows to themselves and we got to stretch out! Score!

·         The plane had a staircase. Another thing to cross off of my “Never have I ever” list.

·         Touchscreen TVs are very distracting to my sleep. However, there was a Rumi reference (!) in the movie Valentine’s Day, which otherwise was absolutely horrible.

·         Lufthansa feeds you like no other. Totally awesome service. All you American airline companies need to take notes.

And the best part of the trip? My flight attendant was the epitome of the stereotypical gay German flight attendant. Complete with the legitimate tehe laugh, German lilt included. Totally made my day.

This will be brief. Boston’s airport = super confusing. There are four terminals. Each requiring a shuttle to get to. There is no list of which terminal your connecting flight is in. Thus, I am required to fall back on an ancient yet tried-and-true problem solving method: trial and error.

Three terminals and an annoying customs experience later, I finally find the right terminal. At last. I send a quick call to the ‘rents to confirm my arrival time. Hmm. It’s a good thing I did that. Apparently my parents forgot I was coming home today. Oops.

Uneventful. Except for the fact that they didn’t feed me. Grr. Cheapskates.

I arrive safely home at Raleigh Durham International. Funnily enough, I arrive home about half an hour earlier than when my initial itinerary planned. Huh, the irony. Also funnily enough, I exit my aircraft only to see Omid waiting there. Apparently, his plane had gotten in just a few minutes before and he decided to wait, so he could say that he saw me on three different continents in the last 24 hours.

I exit the airport and I am greeted by my two parents. There was much rejoicing. Monty Python style.

Thus ends my two and a half week adventure in Turkey. I am a little sad to be back. While it wasn’t love at first sight, Turkey definitely grew on me, and I will treasure my times there for as long as I can remember.

And when I forget, all I’ll have to do is look back on this blog! Which I’m sure will result in much head shaking at the antics and writing style of a much younger me.

Remember, there is still one more post coming, so stay tuned til then. Also, I apologize for the complete lack of pictures in this post. I had returned the camera I had commandeered back to its rightful owner.

Over and out.