My experience with my temporary home in Istanbul is reminiscent of one fortuitous occasion on which I was accidentally allotted a first class seat on an international flight. The accommodations were luxurious; the ambience a careful balance between stimulating and restful, the service superior in both attentiveness and cordiality; I had no trouble acclimating. I like nice things.

I arrived on a Friday evening and after he gave directions in Turkish to my taxi driver over the phone, Jonas, the gracious host-turned-bellhop, pulled my generously portioned luggage out of my taxi, hauled it up the stairs for me, and showed me into a beautifully refinished apartment. . . with a plethora of snacks. Regrettably, I ate all of them, and for that I do not thank him, but there was a degree of thoughtfulness in this welcoming which may or may not be demonstrated by one's own family upon homecoming so I believe it merits recognition.

The digs: significantly more spacious than expected (or needed, but I'm not one to complain about such things), brick covered walls, hardwood floors, brand new appliances, full length gold framed mirror in the ample bedroom evoking a Victorian-era level of refinement . . . in summary, Jonas should be charging more. But I will stop here.

I lied. One more note. The bathroom. I grew up with three brothers who pounded on the door if I had the audacity to take more than 23 seconds in our small bathroom which they never cleaned. So now, as previously mentioned, I like nice things, including a nice bathroom; I like to have coffee when doing my makeup in the mirror in the morning and red wine in front of said mirror when getting ready to go out at night, and this is the bathroom for such things. It is a marble/glass/stainless steel oasis equipped with a well lit vanity mirror, removable shower head, and high powered hairdryer (#basic but these things do matter; hostel hair dryers do not cut it and even some nice hotel hair dryers will keep you drying for days.)

Now that we've covered the critical points and know my hair looked good for my entire trip, I should say a few words about Istanbul. Hearing the call to prayer throughout the day and seeing the mosques dotting the skyline makes it quite the surreal city. Though as exotic as it was, I actually felt quite at home rather quickly. Everyone was respectful and friendly towards me, I was able to walk everywhere I wanted to go, and consequently I found it easy to slip into life here. Jonas gallantly offered to escort me to and from the apartment at night should I ever feel uncomfortable, but I never needed to take him up on the offer. I have traveled all over Europe and this was the safest I have ever felt in any neighborhood I've stayed in.

In case it was not clear, I will be back.