In one of my posts from last year, “Chaos and Harmony: Observations on Turkish Traffic”, I wrote about one of my first great adventures in Türkiye: trying to understand the beautiful chaos of Turkish traffic. The honking, the merging, the motorcycles appearing from places I’m still convinced do not actually exist — all of it can feel like a completely different universe when you first arrive.
But there is another way to experience Ankara. One that does not involve sitting behind the wheel, trying to understand the unspoken rules of the road.
Walking.
Walking around Ankara is one of my favorite things about living here. Even after three years, I still sometimes feel like I am on vacation.
Of course, this is my home now. I pay bills here, grocery shop here, and have learned which stores carry the things I need. I have navigated government offices, apartment issues, language barriers, and all of the other everyday challenges that come with building a life in another country. Nothing says “vacation” quite like arguing with an internet provider.
But then I turn a corner and find a street I have never walked before. I discover a new café, hear conversations happening around me in Turkish, or catch a beautiful view of the city from the top of one of Ankara’s many hills.
And I remember how lucky I am to call this place home.
The City of Hills (So. Many. Hills.)
Before moving here, I knew Ankara was a large city. I knew it was the capital of Türkiye. I knew it had a rich history and was surrounded by beautiful landscapes.
What I did not fully understand was just how many hills this city has.
Ankara is a city where a casual walk can quickly turn into an unexpected workout. I have lost count of how many times I have left my apartment thinking, “I’m just going for a short walk,” only to find myself climbing a street so steep that I begin to reconsider every decision that brought me to that exact spot.
There are hills. And then there are Ankara hills.
You know the kind where you look up, see the road continuing toward the heavens, and briefly wonder whether oxygen tanks are provided somewhere along the route.
But strangely enough, they are one of the things I have grown to love about this city. They give Ankara character. They create beautiful viewpoints and make every neighborhood feel like it has another layer waiting to be discovered.
Sometimes, after climbing one of those never-ending streets, I will turn around and realize I can see across the city. Those moments make the effort worth it.
Ankara has taught me that some of the best views require a little extra work to reach them. It has also taught me that “only 700 meters away” tells you absolutely nothing useful unless Google Maps also tells you the elevation.
My legs would like that added in a future update.
And Then There Are the Sidewalks
The hills, however, are only part of the Ankara walking experience.
There are also the sidewalks.
One of the things I genuinely love about Ankara is the number of mature trees throughout the city. Rather than cutting them down simply because somebody eventually decided a sidewalk should go through the same spot, the sidewalks are often built around them.
I love this.
Really, I do.
There is something wonderful about living in a city where a beautiful old tree seems to have been given priority over creating one perfectly straight stretch of concrete. The trees provide shade in the summer, color in the autumn, and make even some of Ankara’s busiest streets feel greener and more inviting.
That said, walking down some of these sidewalks can occasionally resemble an obstacle course designed by someone with a mischievous sense of humor.
You might be strolling along quite happily when suddenly the sidewalk narrows because there is an enormous tree growing directly through the middle of it. Now you have choices. Squeeze between the tree and a wall? Step around it toward the street? Turn sideways and attempt a maneuver that bears an unfortunate resemblance to a crab?
Add uneven pavement, the occasional unexpected step, construction, parked scooters, café tables, other pedestrians, and Ankara’s hills, and a simple trip to the grocery store can begin to feel suspiciously like an audition for Turkish Ninja Warrior.
And yet, I would still rather navigate around the trees than see them removed.
Maybe that is part of what I enjoy about walking here. Ankara does not always make the path perfectly smooth for you.
Sometimes it makes you walk around a tree.
Sometimes it sends you straight uphill.
And apparently, sometimes it wants to check whether you have been working on your balance.
Exploring Ankara on Foot
Walking allows me to experience Ankara in a way I simply cannot from a car, bus, or metro. When I am on foot, I notice all the little things I would otherwise pass without seeing.
I see small bakeries tucked between apartment buildings, cats sleeping in sunny corners, elderly neighbors sitting outside talking, flowers spilling over balconies, and cafés I make a mental note to visit later.
Sometimes “later” means next week.
Sometimes it means approximately seven minutes later because I saw cake.
Some of my favorite places to wander are the neighborhoods where Ankara’s energy really comes alive.
Tunalı Hilmi Avenue is one of those places. It has a completely different feeling from many parts of Ankara, with cafés, restaurants, small shops, bookstores, and people simply enjoying the day.
It is the kind of place where you can start with the intention of taking a short walk and somehow spend several hours exploring. There is always another side street that looks interesting, another storefront worth investigating, or another place that makes me think, “Well, I suppose I could stop for coffee.”
I am very easily persuaded by imaginary arguments involving coffee.
Then there is Kızılay.
Kızılay is the heartbeat of central Ankara. When I walk through the busiest part of it, I often think of it as a miniature Turkish version of Times Square.
Obviously, Kızılay is not actually Times Square. Nobody needs to come after me in the comments.
But it has that same feeling of constant movement — bright signs, crowds of people, shops, restaurants, street vendors, buses, and pedestrians all flowing through the same relatively small area.
When I first arrived, Kızılay could feel overwhelming. Now I love the energy of it. Like so many things in Türkiye, what initially looks like complete chaos begins to reveal its own rhythm once you spend enough time in it.
And somehow, everybody gets where they are going.
Usually.
Finding Green Spaces in the Middle of the City
One of the things I appreciate most about Ankara is that, despite being a busy capital city, beautiful green spaces are woven right into the middle of it. I wrote more about these little urban escapes in my previous post, “Pocket Parks and Bus Passes”.
Güven Park, located in the center of Kızılay, is a perfect example. The streets surrounding it are full of buses, traffic, shops, commuters, and people moving in every possible direction.
And then there is the park.
People sit beneath the trees, meet friends, rest on benches, or simply take a few minutes to exist without needing to be somewhere else. I love that contrast. Ankara can be loud and energetic, but it also gives you places to step out of that energy for a while.
Kuğulu Park in Tunalı is another favorite of mine. Known as Swan Park, it is home to swans, ducks, trees, and plenty of people enjoying one of Ankara’s most beloved little green spaces.
I love watching different generations gather there. Children watch the birds, friends sit together talking, couples stroll through the park, and older residents relax on the benches.
It feels like a tiny pause button in the middle of the city.
And after climbing enough Ankara hills to get there, I am generally very supportive of anything involving a bench.
A Rainy Day Warning: The Snails Are Coming
There is one more thing every Ankara walker should know.
After it rains, watch where you step.
Yes, the sidewalks can be slippery. But that is not the main reason.
The snails come out.
And these are not necessarily the tiny little snails you almost need a magnifying glass to see. Some of the snails I have encountered here are big and beautiful, and after a good rain they begin making their extremely slow journeys across the sidewalks.
Suddenly, the Ankara obstacle course has entered expert mode.
Now you are navigating the hill, the trees, the pavement, other pedestrians and trying not to step on a snail who has apparently chosen this exact moment to cross one of the busiest pedestrian routes in the city.
When I was on campus, I would sometimes stop after a rainstorm to move snails out of the way when they seemed to be in danger. I never really knew whether I was helping them or interfering with wherever they had decided they absolutely needed to be that afternoon. So I did what any reasonable, well-intentioned person would do: I googled it.
As it turns out, the recommendation is that if a snail is somewhere it could easily be stepped on or hit, it can be gently moved a short distance to nearby shelter. Otherwise, it is generally best to leave them alone so they can continue whatever important snail business they were conducting, uninterrupted.
I do know one thing, though: seeing them always makes me slow down. My concern for their safety once made me push my friend Liz into a fence when we were walking down the street and she was about to step on one. Apparently, my emergency response system had time for “save the snail” but not “maybe just say something.” (Sorry, Liz. It was a reflex. Just know the snails appreciate your sacrifice.)
There is something rather wonderful about these beautiful little creatures quietly making their way through a city of more than five million people, completely unconcerned about traffic, schedules, appointments, or how many emails are waiting in somebody’s inbox.
Seeing these snails around brings me an immense amount of joy. I can’t say exactly why, but I’m not going to question it.
Three Years Later, Ankara Still Feels New
One of the greatest gifts of living in Ankara is that the city continues to surprise me.
After three years, I still discover streets I have never walked. I still notice cafés that somehow escaped my attention. I still turn a corner, see something beautiful, and have one of those little moments where I think, “I live here.”
That feeling has never really gone away.
Moving to another country means spending a lot of time learning. There are language challenges, confusing paperwork, cultural differences, mistakes, and moments when you feel like you are trying to solve a puzzle while somebody has hidden three of the pieces.
Those parts are real.
But so is this part.
The part where I can leave my apartment with nowhere particularly important to go and spend an afternoon walking through a city that still feels a little bit like a place I am visiting.
The difference is that, at the end of the day, my home is here.
Ankara may have traffic that occasionally appears to defy several known laws of physics. It has hills that turn innocent walks into cardio sessions, sidewalks that occasionally require agility training, and post-rain snail crossings that demand your full attention.
But it also has beautiful trees, lively neighborhoods, peaceful parks, unexpected views, hidden corners, and endless reasons to keep exploring.
Three years later, I still put on my walking shoes, step outside, and feel a little bit like I am on vacation.
Maybe that is one of the best parts of finding a place that feels like home.
The ordinary never became completely ordinary.
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing some of the tiny, everyday things that still make me swoon for this city, taking you through 10 of my favorite parks to explore in Ankara, and revisiting another very important part of getting around town: Ankara’s public transportation. Because once your legs have survived the hills and your balance has passed the sidewalk obstacle course, sometimes it is perfectly acceptable to sit down on a bus or metro and let someone else do the moving.
Wishing you strong legs for the hills, curious eyes for the little things you might otherwise miss, and plenty of ordinary walks that somehow turn into adventures.
With love from Ankara,
Tiffles, Stormy, and Smokey 🐾