Istanbul, Turkey. A whirlwind stop.

Pegasus airlines. Seems legit. I chose the aisle seat and my regret is heavy after Frenchie wakes me 45 minutes in to use the facilities. I was enjoying the best nap I'd ever had. Most unhappy.

I think it's pretty standard etiquette that middle seat gets the arm rests, though he takes precisely 2.7619cm of my chair space too. I do not. At all. Like the feeling of his arm hair. He won't stay still either. I'm being velcroed without consent.

I appreciate how tired and cranky I am at how much this annoys me. I think one must accept close confines with strangers on economy air travel. I am relieved to speak neither French, nor Turkish, (türkçe konuşmuyorum), and not regrettably, use this as my reason to not speak. An unusual setting for myself.

Losing a few hours on the flight, I arrive very. Very. Tired. Just before midnight. I've not eaten since Paris. I order room service, wanting to culturally immerse myself in middle eastern fare. I order meatballs/ pita. A mezze platter type dinner. I don't notice the raw centre of what is actually just a beef burger chopped in half, until the next morning, though I'm immensely grateful my body knew 15 minutes after I'd eaten it and ejected it.

The sign for the "spa" within the hotel should've been a giveaway. Kum spa. Yeah. Nah. I'll pass thanks. The phone in the toilet leaves me wondering too. Hello? Room service? I'm a bit constipated. Can you assist? Pretty bizarre, though this 80s relic may have come in handy for multitasking meetings and bowel evacuation in an era pre zoom.

Everyone smokes here. Everyone. And everything reeks of stale cigarettes. The people smell of it. My hotel room reeks of it. The taxis. I am not shocked, though, after witnessing similar throughout Europe.

I wake early for breakfast, figuring I at least owe Istanbul a few hours of exploring. I recall the airport transfer upon arrival and his statement of "Are you crazy?" when he learned I was travelling alone. I suspect he thought I was coming to Istanbul to explore solo on foot, though finding myself down some sketchy streets, leering men and rough as guts sheila's - tells me I'm not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

I reverse my path. Clutch my bag tighter with regrets high as also at this very moment, my BGLs plummet and I almost do too. I keep my wits. I hear an American accent. A couple. I befriend them in an instant, get directions to the cruise terminal and navigate my way firstly, to a Cafe to replenish energy. Secondly. Back to hotel to finish packing.

During my Istanbul wander, I'm surprised by the amount of cats I see on the streets. I presume they're strays, and shoo one away as I attempt to enjoy what is my 2nd breakfast at a Cafe. The waiter then pats him and declares he is his cat. That maybe the case sir, but this is my breakfast and until I see evidence of parasite treatments, I'm not sharing.

I'm impressed with my growing navigation skills. I make my way to the cruise terminal with ease. I board the ship, the Norwegian Gem, and befriend some Aussies and Brits over lunch.

I spot an American trying to take photos of Istanbul through foggy glass. I suggest he go upstairs to get better pictures. He said he can't or he'll lose his wife, who is in the bathroom. I cheekily ask - is that a bad thing? He said yeah. I'm going to keep her. The police asked too many questions about the first two. I love this blokes sense of humour.

I check out the gym and my heart soars at the gains I can make this final leg of my tour.

Then I return to my room. It is luxurious and nothing like the toddler accommodation I'd been offered on Crown Princess earlier this year with Mum and Dad. I score a balcony too! I buy the Barbie movie I'd been meaning to watch (Margot Robbie. No more words needed). And nap til dinner.

Cruising pace needed for both the mind. Body. And Soul.

#homesick.

I appreciate I wasn't able to give much to Istanbul, Turkey, though it hasnt left a lasting impression.

Onwards to Kusadasi, Turkey.Read more