Parking in Turkey
If I thought driving in Turkey was a challenge, I wasn't prepared for parking
Last weekend, spring had me hungering for adventure, so I rented a car.
A lot had happened since the last time I drove a car last October. Faithful readers will know that I had moved to a new apartment a few weeks ago, which puts me in a close-packed neighborhood on a narrow, one-lane side street, just two blocks from the biggest mosque in the suburb of Balçova (whose muezzin serenades me as I write this, sounding as loud as if he is on the balcony in the next building).
So when I picked up a new car last Friday evening and drove it back, I knew it would be a challenge, finding a place to park.
How to Tell Someone has Parked Wrong
Soon after I moved in, Füsun came over for a visit. Unable to find a place to park her own car, she asked me about the pickup truck that was parked outside my door.
I couldn’t recall the owner.
She promptly walked out and raised one of the windshield wipers, like one would do when washing the glass.
“What was that for?” I asked her.
“That’s what you do when someone parks in your space,” she answered.
Later a man came out to the truck that was parked outside my door. It was my landlord. He was pretty nice about it, but he had definitely gotten the message.
Finding a Parking Space
As I drove home with my rental, I began worrying about where to park.
Here’s the street that I live on — a narrow, one-lane street with high apartment blocks on each side.
And as I might have suspected, there was no room on the street. I began circling the neighborhood, looking for a parking place. To make things worse, the neighborhood is very hilly, so parking a 5-speed on a steep hill would be an additional challenge.
I finally found a place about two blocks away. It was by a curb. It didn’t look like it was blocking a driveway. Still, I worried that — with such limited curbside parking in the neighborhood — I might take someone’s spot.
I walked home.
A couple hours later I walked over to the rental car, just to check.
Sure enough, the windshield wiper rose from the front of the car like the horn of a unicorn.
A note was on the car, too.
“My friend,” it reads. “Never block the door of a building. A little common sense.”
So pleasant.
That’s Turkey, I guess. A check of the parking photo above shows that one foot of auto was blocking that building’s entrance.
I moved the car, found a free spot on my street, and enjoyed the rest of the weekend.
I have already written about driving in Turkey. Now I know about parking here.
Turkish people asking you the follow the rules when no one else does is hilarious. No one enforces any rules where I live it's a free for all except for the restaurant guys bossing you around.