Istanbul is electrifying — one of the biggest connections between Europe, Africa and Asia and a crowded, hustling city as well as my first travel experience outside of western Europe. After spending several hours going through customs, the airport shuttle dropped me off at Taxsim Square, the center of modern Istanbul and a well-known tourist district. Weary of the throngs of people and feeling exposed as a new tourist with packs on my back and front, I delicately maneuvered my way through the boisterous herds.
A man approached me as we walked in the same direction and asked to accompany me. Maybe he saw my vulnerability or maybe he was a genuinely nice guy, he kept the conversation flowing sprinkling me with questions of my weekend plans, recommendations, and flattery. I let him navigate me and my wide load through the crowds and when we got close to my hostel I gave him a bogus phone number and a fake out to another hotel.
He seemed decent, just not a person I would like to meet again. Within 5 minutes of arriving at my hostel there was a city-wide blackout.
I took a deep sigh of relief having narrowly made it home and not scavenging the pitch-black streets with a stranger. With the darkness brought the silence and relief from the steady electrical humming.
There were four of us sharing a humid hostel room. A Turkish guy, and two Moroccan guys on separate business to Istanbul. I was chatted up by a young waiter that seemed polite and eager to exchange WhatsApp numbers and then flooded my phone with proclamations of love and dick pics over the coming days. As a girl travelling alone, I am frequently approached. Most encounters are friendly and good spirited and I can often ward off negative attentions politely.
