Turkey | balloons and missiles in the Middle Eastern sky
The contrast between warm hospitality and the cold reality of traveling during geopolitical flare-ups
If you haven’t been to Turkey yet, I can’t recommend it highly enough. Despite the quirks I found in Turkish culture, I had a terrific time seeing everything the country has to offer.
The Turkish are lovely people. They are very hospitable and friendly, which made up for their little concern for forming a line and respect for personal space. Countless times, for example, I was cut while waiting to pay for my groceries as I stood maybe a meter behind the person who was paying, and someone thought I was not in line.
People would often sneak around you. Heck, one time this kid even jumped over my leg while running in the aisle of a train. Maybe Turkey has some potential for the 110m hurdles event in the Olympics in 2040.
Smoking also seemed to be the norm, rather than the exception everywhere we went. I’ve written about this before as this is definitely not unique to Turkey and it was prevalent in Serbia as well, for instance, but also throughout the entire Balkans.
Exploring Turkey’s West
After lovely days in Bodrum and Istanbul, my sister parted ways and my mom and I kept going. We spent a few days in Kuşadasi, a lovely beach town close to many historical sites.
From there we visited the House of Virgin Mary, where she spent her last days, and the ancient city of Ephesus, which was once a bustling entrepôt. We also visited the thermal pools of Pamukkale and the archeological city of Hierapolis.
It was a completely different style and pace of travel from the one I’ve grown used to as a backpacker and it felt refreshing. The guided trips may not make it for the most “what the hell just happened” stories, but I won’t deny that it feels nice to have a bus with AC waiting for you after walking 2 or 3 hours in the heat.
And hot it was indeed… though summer hadn’t officially started, the weather was in the high 30s C / 90s F, and I still hadn’t seen a cloud in the Turkish sky.
Chasing Balloons in Cappadocia
Not until we got to Göreme, Cappadocia, our following stop.
You may be wondering whether we added that stop in our journey so that we could fly in a hot-air balloon. This makes a lot of sense, but we went there because we knew this was a top destination in Turkey, so it would feel odd to go to Turkey for so long and not visit.
My mom didn’t want to go in a balloon. I didn’t want to pay for it since a spot for a one-hour ride doesn’t bode well for my budget. So, it was an easy decision and we didn’t have to convince each other.
We wanted, however, to see the balloons going up in the sky.
Upon arriving in Göreme, we asked the owner of our hotel where would be a good place to see the balloons, and whether we could just see it from the terrace of the hotel.
“You can see them from our terrace, but if you want a really good view you should go over there”, he said pointing to where we should go.
“Where exactly?”, we demanded some clarification.
“Oh, it is easy. You just go downhill, take a left. Once you go past the really big Turkey flag, keep going straight and look for so-and-so hotel. Then, you’ll see the balloons going up in the sky and just head toward the closest hilltop.”
“Ok, got it”, I said, a bit hesitant. “What time should we leave?”
“Aim to be there at 4:45 am. That way you will see the balloons for the entire time, from take-off to landing”.
Ok, we had a plan.
The next day, we woke up around 3:30 am. Though we were a bit tired, we had to do it. If we weren’t going up in one, we would at least see them from the closest hilltop.
So we left our hotel, a bit early perhaps, around 4:15 am. Camera in my bag and my tripod in hand.
It was dark. Pitch black.
Not a soul on the street. Sure, we’d see vans waiting for tourists who would go up in the balloon. Other than that, no sight of anyone walking alongside us. Nada. Niente. Rien.
We carried on. My mom was not so positive anymore that we made the right decision.
“We should’ve taken the driver the hotel guy offered us. It wasn’t that expensive”.
True, it wasn’t a bad price, but for such a short walk…
The walk was supposed to be only 15–20 minutes, but we may have perhaps missed the first right we should have taken to the “closest hilltop”. After all, in the middle of the night, this massive dog came up, barking a bit aggressively.
We had to distract the dog, and my mom was surprised at my assertiveness.
“Guido”, she said, “you’re almost unrecognizable near a dog”.
Growing up, I’d almost always cross the street upon seeing a dog, even with a leash on. But now, perhaps because I’ve seen way too many dogs roaming around in the countries I’ve been to, or perhaps because I took 3 anti-rabies shots before the trip, I’m more comfortable telling them to quiet down.
“I must have died of rabies in a different life”, I joked.
We kept going and going. Almost 30 minutes in, we still hadn’t seen a balloon up in the sky.
“Guido, are you sure we came the right way?”, my mom asked me, a bit concerned.
At what I thought was the “closest hilltop”, we weren’t that high up and I thought I had seen a woman on a higher hilltop, which didn’t see that far.
“Mom,” I said, “I think we can go to a better spot. I see a woman up there, and it doesn’t look that far”.
Still no sight in any balloon, and it was almost 4:45 am, the time we were told to be there.
A few minutes later, as we started seeing the first balloon or two going up in the sky, we got to that next hill. Just in time to see the balloon in front of us getting inflated.
It may not have been the closest hilltop, but it was fairly high and the view was unobstructed.
And what a beautiful sight it was...
The Sky Lights Up
The intense flames from the torch went from a peaceful cyan-blue to a violent orange, and the balloon started taking shape, with the staff finally managing to turn the basket and hurry the passengers in.
Soon, the sky was full of balloons. Left, right, straight, behind… above. Just wonderful.
At capacity, there can be 200 balloons in the Cappadocia sky at the same time. Though we weren’t sure of how many balloons there were, I’d say there were probably between 150 and 200 that day.
As a photographer in the making, it was a very fun time. My tripod was set up and I was playing with the different lenses and the several settings in my camera. Landscape, portrait, manual mode, the lighting, the ISO, the focus.
All the stuff I had no clue about a good 5 or 6 months ago when I went out on a cold Sunday morning in New York to buy my new toy.
Yet, it wasn’t until the sun was shining bright on our faces that my mom was convinced that we had made the right decision.
We both enjoyed that moment, and I’m sure we will remember it forever.
Balloon Landings and Ground Operations
At the end of sunrise, the balloons started landing, and we had an extra look at all the work that goes into safely landing a hot-air balloon.
Before the trip, I thought there was one pilot inside the balloon and he did it all. But there is an entire ground team.
Watching the ground operations was interesting. Aside from the van that transported the passengers, there was also a pick-up truck with a flatbed attached to it, following the balloon so that they were there for its landing.
The ground operations team, besides helping the balloon to get inflated, also has to help to put it down, tightly pulling a rope down until the hot air leaves the envelope (the balloon), folding it, unloading the propane tank, etc.
This is from what I saw… I imagine there is much more that goes on it, such as inspecting the envelope, reloading the propane, and so on.
The hefty price didn’t seem so salty anymore.
The Tour Goes On
After watching the balloons, we had a tour scheduled for later that morning. The “Red Route”, as they call it.
We got lucky and met this lovely family from São Paulo, who also happened to be on our “Green Route” tour the following day. Though both tours were in Spanish, we were all from Brazil and were joined on the second day by \ two sisters from Paraná, who were just as nice.
Those two days were full of caves, fairy chimneys, and valleys with breathtaking views.
In between each stop, lots of chats.
Of course, I explained most of my life story and why I was on such a long trip, dealing with all my immigration woes in the US.
“Ah, cool, at least you’re making the most of it”, they said. “Where are you going next?”
Well, here was a question I didn’t know the answer to. At least not with certainty.
“Baku, for now”, I said not really sure of the words that had come out of my mouth.
Missiles in the News
Today, the “situation” seems to have quieted down. But leading up to these days, we had seen the Israel vs. Iran war escalating for days with no signs of improvement. Trump stated the US could get involved one day and there was news that some type of wicked bomber had moved to a nearby base…
It wasn’t looking all that good. Then, one day, I woke up with alerts that the US had struck three nuclear facilities in Iran.
Wow, what a time to be in the Middle East.
Now, I know this trip that I’m doing comes with risks.
On Risk
There are a few major risks I deal with, some more apparent, some less so.
1. Career and Financial Risk
Though I’m employed, my return is not guaranteed, should the US economy turn incredibly sour or my PERM (first step in the Green Card) get rejected.
The issue is that, for one year, I’m living off my savings, trusting my earnings potential will make up for this sabbatical down the road.
If I come back to the US, that will be a bit easier, since they have higher income levels than those in Brazil or Europe.
If I don’t return to the US, I still believe I’ll make up for the sum I’ve set aside, but it will likely take longer.
There is not much I can do to control this risk, so I don’t worry about it. I just learned to accept the outcome and do the most with it.
2. Personal Safety and Health Risk
Though some countries are safer than others, no country will ever be 100% safe.
But there are things you can do to mitigate those risks, wherever you are. Get your vaccinations, buy traveler’s insurance, beware of your surroundings, not wear anything that will draw attention, and so on.
3. Geopolitical Risk
I’m fully aware I’m traveling close to an unstable area in an increasingly unstable world.
Of course, I will not visit any country where I do not trust the authorities have good control of their sovereign areas. Thus, places such as Iraq, Syria, Yemen, and Myanmar are off my list.
The issue, however, is the gray area.
Upon the US strike on Iranian soil, Ali Khamenei, the Iranian Ayatollah, declared that “any American in the region would be a target”.
Most people didn’t think much about this statement, but I had a few questions about it.
Do they mean it?
How do they define “American”?
How do they define “the region”?
For the first one, I didn’t have much doubt they meant it.
The second and third ones were trickier to assess…
After almost 14 years in the US, I sound more American than not when I speak English.
I still have a slight accent and Americans I meet mostly think I’m a foreigner “though not quite sure where you’re from”, which they then proceed to guess the wildest countries, but never Brazil.
People from other countries, however, immediately think that I’m American.
So, for all matters, unless someone checked my passport, they would think that I’m American.
Now, the region… is that Iran? is that the Middle East? Is that any neighboring country? Tough to say…
Whatever the answer, I certainly did not want to be “collateral damage”, especially when I come from the country of “praia, futebol, and carnaval”.
Plan B: Rethinking Baku
So, how to be safe?
There is only so much you can control, but whenever I’m traveling to a place I’m not certain of the geopolitical safety, I default to the Travel Advisory page from the US Department of State.
On Monday, when I had to make a decision, we had the following scenario:
The US had bombed Iran’s nuclear facilities two days prior
Israel and Iran were still firing rockets at each other
The Iranian Foreign Minister had flown to Moscow to meet with Putin and decide on the “next steps”
I felt like living in DC or New York during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
As I started ideating an alternative to Baku, I began digging deeper. It turned out that Azerbaijan and Israel are allies, with Israel using the Azerbaijanis to spy on the Iranians. What if Iran also had some people infiltrated in Baku?
The Department of State had finally updated its pages on Monday morning. It had updates for Turkey and Azerbaijan.
For Turkey, it advised Americans and Westerns (thanks for looping me in!) to stay away from the Southeast part of Turkey. So, all of the Kurdish area of Turkey plus the areas close to Syria, which they already had active alerts on anyway.
This essentially ruled out most other places I could go to in Turkey east of Cappadocia.
For Azerbaijan, it had a new statement advising all Americans not to travel there due to “the recent developments”.
Note taken.
Perhaps, going to Baku wouldn’t be the wisest decision.
Later that day we found out the outcome of the Iranian Foreign Minister’s meeting with Putin. Iran had launched missiles in the Persian Gulf, striking Qatar, Bahrain, Iraq, and Kuwait.
Radiation and Other Fun Thoughts
On top, aside from the artillery risks, there was also a more remote risk of nuclear or radioactive contamination. This might be the more sinister of all and it was a whole new layer I didn’t have to actively consider until recently.
For this risk to be zero, the following would have to be true:
All parties involved would have to be telling the truth that there was no radioactive leakage from bombing uranium-enrichment facilities
No nuclear bombs would have to be dropped in the days I’m in Baku
In the event bombs are dropped, the wind would have to blow away from Baku, which is the closest capital to the Fordow facility, the biggest target
I wasn’t going to Baku to meet anyone or for work… so, yeah, Baku was a No-Go.
The day of my flight, I woke up to the news that a cease-fire had been announced. But my decision to give up on my next stop had already been taken, and do we trust all these cease-fires after so many in the Russian invasion of Ukraine?
The Eastern Express
So, if not Baku, where next?
Out of all places in Turkey not under the “do-not-travel” advisory and on my path to Georgia, Kars made the most sense.
I had never heard of this town, but it was the last stop in the Eastern Express, a scenic 19-hour (more like 21 or 22 hours at the end of it) along the Euphrates River and through the Anatolian plateau. Unfortunately, the sleeper couchettes were all booked, so I had to take one of those not-so-comfy chairs.
But it was a beautiful ride, and I recommend it if you’re in the region (be sure to book in advance!). It gets a lot of snow in the winter, so I can only imagine how wonderful it is then.
Kars, in itself, has not much going on. I took the day to recharge from the long ride, and do some chores—laundry, haircut, buy a charging cable that I forgot in Istanbul, etc.
It didn’t go unnoticed by me, nonetheless, how much more “Middle Eastern” it felt.
Turkey is technically in the Middle East but it feels very Western in some parts. If it weren’t for the occasional woman in a burkini, Bodrum wouldn’t seem to be in Turkey. Istanbul is a melting pot, with some neighborhoods looking more European than Middle Eastern.
Kars, on the other hand, had a vibe that matched images of the Middle East that I remember seeing as a kid. People were a bit tanner, men of all ages dressed in suits, despite being a bit hot. Never shorts. Women were almost all wearing a veil, sometimes one that conceals all but her eyes. Nobody spoke English and people looked at me quizzically when I tried to communicate.
Their puzzled look often broke into a smile when I told them I was from Brazil, which might be the friendliest nation on Earth.
Not sure about this? Just ask the Bolivians who seized a Brazilian-owned gas operation some 20 years ago and nothing happened to them.
North to Georgia: Improvised Border Run
From Kars, I headed to Batumi, a Georgian beach town on the coast of the Black Sea.
I assumed it would be an easy ride. I got a bus ticket to Hopa, a Turkish city near the border with Georgia, from where I would get another bus to Batumi, or so I thought.
Kindly allow me to contextualize this further.
I paid 650 TL to this clerk at the bus station. Got no ticket in return.
He just said “Seven”.
“Seven what?”, I replied. “Seat number seven? Bus number seven?”
“Seven” he replied.
After going back and forth with a translator, I managed to understand that I had to sit on seat number seven.
Ok, I thought.
The 4-hour car ride to Hopa was more of an 8-hour bus ride, with all the stops and the slower speed on the windy roads.
Again, the route was very scenic, along the Olur stream. The landscape reminded me a lot of Utah and Colorado, two of my favorite states in the US. Nonetheless, the AC barely worked, and zigzagging through the mountains got me a bit motion-sick.
We finally got to the Hopa “bus station”, which was more of a bridge cross with a few shops and vans parked throughout. No sign of “Batumi” written anywhere.
I started asking people “Batumi? Batumi?”
Nothing.
This lady who spoke a tiny bit of English managed to tell me that there were no buses to Batumi.
Fun.
But that I could get a van to Sarp, the border town, and then cross by foot.
Alright, I had a plan.
I hopped on the next Sarp-bound van, which had only a couple of seats left. The trunk was full, so I went inside with my bags, including the big backpacking one and my camera bag, which is quite chunky as well.
I took a seat at the back, and the camera bag turned to its side when the van took a right.
To my surprise, the gentleman sitting next to it put it back in place and then started to look after it, making sure it wouldn’t roll again.
After a few minutes, this woman with her daughter came in. They sat in front of me, with her child, who seemed to be 4 or 5, sitting on her lap.
Then, the lady got a bit tired and told her daughter to sit on the open seat next to me.
As most Turkish do, she did not buckle up.
Seriously, even taxi and bus drivers don’t buckle up. Big problem.
We proceeded with a full van until the last stop before the border. I was partially admiring how this total stranger was making sure my bag would stay in place, and partially keeping an eye on the road since the girl next to me would fly a good 4 or 5 meters in the event the driver braked hard.
She looked out of the window the entire ride, not worried about it, but I wouldn’t let that happen. I was ready to intervene if needed.
I thought this was a poetic end to my days in Turkey.
It can be chaotic. It can be stressful.
But you trust each other. And you trust things will work out in the end.
🧭 Upcoming Itinerary
📍June 30th – July 1st — Batumi, GE
📍July 1st – 3rd — Kutaisi, GE
📍July 3rd – 8th — Tbilisi, GE
💬 Ever made a tough call on the road? Or would you have gone to Baku or rerouted? Tell me about it!
Bio
Hi, I’m Guido, a Brazilian traveler who spent 13 years in the US before life nudged me toward a long-awaited dream: a year of exploring the world. I started this page to share my journey with family and friends, but if you’ve found your way here, I’m grateful you came along!
I loved to share this wonderful balloons experience with you. Yes, observing ballons instead of flying balloons was the best decision! And it was awesome our Spanish tours with nice Brazilian people! ❤️🥰