The midpoint perspective: coffee and quiet in Izmir
It's just past 11:30 on a chilly Monday morning in Izmir, and I've found myself in a small café about ten minutes' walk from my hotel. The morning sun is streaming through the windows, creating patterns on the worn wooden floor, and I'm nursing my second Turkish coffee of the day while contemplating the strange reality that I'm exactly at the midpoint of my journey.
Day 202 of 500. Exactly 202 days behind me, and 298 days ahead.
I woke up early again today, a habit I can't seem to shake regardless of which country I'm in. The call to prayer echoed across the city just before dawn, and I lay in bed listening to the haunting melody bounce between buildings. There's something comforting about these consistent markers of time when everything else is constantly changing.
After a quick breakfast at the hotel, I decided to walk toward the Archaeological Museum, which I'd read opens at 10:00. I arrived at 9:50 to find a small sign indicating it was closed on Mondays. I should have checked this beforehand, but sometimes these little disappointments lead to unexpected discoveries.
Instead, I wandered through quiet morning streets until I found this café. The owner nodded when I entered and pointed to a small table by the window without a word. When he brought my coffee, I noticed his hands were stained with ink - perhaps he's a writer too.
!Morning coffee in Izmir café Morning light and Turkish coffee - a perfect combination for reflection
Sitting here with the mild sunshine outside (the temperature display on a nearby pharmacy says 8°C), I can't help but reflect on how different my perception of time has become. Two hundred days once seemed like an eternity, but now I'm wondering where the time has gone. I've seen so much, yet there's still so much ahead.
Yesterday's visit to the Agora of Smyrna was more impactful than I expected. Sitting on that fallen column while a stray cat kept me company, I felt a connection to the countless people who had walked those same stones over millennia. Tomorrow I'll be leaving Izmir on the 10:00 bus, and I still haven't decided where I'm heading next. The restlessness that's been building over the past few days is pushing me forward.
I've sketched out a rough plan for my final day here:
- Visit the Asansör (the historical elevator built in 1907) this afternoon
- Find a local seafood restaurant for dinner
- Pack my backpack (the eternal travel ritual)
- Perhaps walk along the Kordon promenade one last time
The café is filling up now with late-morning patrons. Two elderly men have taken the table next to mine and are engaged in an animated conversation punctuated by occasional laughter. Their coffee cups are empty, but they show no signs of leaving.
I've been thinking a lot about the pace of my travel lately. When I started this journey, I worried about seeing enough places in my 500 days. Now, at the midpoint, I'm questioning whether I'm truly experiencing the places I visit. It's the eternal traveler's dilemma - breadth versus depth.
The sunlight has shifted, and my coffee cup is empty. Time to head out and make the most of my final day in Izmir before tomorrow's departure. The Asansör awaits, and with it, hopefully, some spectacular views of the bay.
More soon, Ruben
202 days completed, 298 days remaining