Nepali Wanderer

Traveling solo is not just about exploring new places. It is also about discovering yourself—your likes, dislikes, and at times your deepest fears. Details like how you react under pressure, the people you reach out to, and the ways you occupy yourself can reveal a lot about who you are. My solo adventure in Amasra, Turkey, was one of these moments of self-discovery. Without a doubt, Amasra is one of the most beautiful hidden gems I have visited. Yet, this trip was more about my experience of dealing with my fear.

In September 2022, I was in Ankara for a month for work. Going with my usual travel flow, I planned to explore new places every weekend, including popular destinations like Cappadocia, Pamukkale, Ephesus, and Istanbul. However, I also wanted to uncover some lesser-known gems. A local recommended Amasra, a hidden gem along the Black Sea. Eager to see the Black Sea for the first time, I decided to give it a try.

My plan was casual — perhaps too casual in hindsight. I assumed a day trip would suffice, given that Amasra was only 4-5 hours away from Ankara. But I quickly found out the trip was more complicated, involving a bus change and obvious language barrier. When I watched the people in the second bus, I knew I could be the only foreigner traveling this way.

As I arrived in Amasra, the sight of the village (and the Black Sea) took my breath away. Amasra is a small fishing village built around an ancient castle. I began my exploration at a local museum, which showcased ruins from the ancient kingdom. I was especially fascinated by the ancient coins, as Turkey is the land that created the first coins in the world. After that, I decided to explore the village at my own pace.

Amasra felt like a laid-back village from a movie where everyone knows each other. With its picturesque Black Sea coastline, majestic viewpoints, colorful houses, and narrow cobblestone streets, I could easily imagine living here and forgetting the rest of the world.

But reality, as always, had other plans. I needed to be at my office the next day, so I decided to get my return ticket before exploring further. This is when I encountered my first fear: all the return tickets for the evening were sold out, and the earliest available ticket was for the next evening. I couldn’t skip work as we were running tight on a deadline. After pleading with three or four different bus operators, I found out about a different stop a little further from the main center. There, I was offered a handwritten return ticket for 1:45 AM from what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The only positive was that it was a direct bus to Ankara.

Worried about the credibility of the handwritten ticket, not to mention the thought of walking alone at 1:45 AM, I tried finding other options. But after an hour or so of countless searches (offline and online), I had to relent to the only option on hand. By then, I also had realised that everything in Amasra would be asleep by that time, as it wasn’t a typical touristic place with nightlife. Although I kept telling myself it would be alright, fear started creeping in.

Then, luckily, I met someone traveling alone who could speak English — a Turkish woman who had been to Nepal. She mentioned Nepal was her second favorite travel destination (after Myanmar), which made me feel like I had found a known person. More importantly, I could ask her one question which only she could answer in that village. Just asking how safe Amasra was only going to give me an incomplete answer. To her, I could ask how safe Amasra was compared to Nepal. She smiled for a while and told me it was completely safe.

With that reassurance, I decided to look at the brighter side of that 1:45 ticket. I had almost an entire day to explore. And Amasra does have plenty to explore, including ferry rides to nearby islands and numerous sea-facing cafes, bars, and restaurants. I relaxed at a bar with a Guinness and enjoyed the view. Later, I walked all the way to the end of the village before stopping at a local fish restaurant. The fish there was amazing, at a price cheaper than a local restaurant in Nepal. Looking at the sight in front of me, I was happy at least I had found this hidden gem.

As sunset approached, Amasra glowed golden, offering one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. I climbed to a viewpoint to gaze at the endless Black Sea, contemplating the distant Ukraine. Yet, as daylight faded, my earlier fears resurfaced. The same village, tranquil during the day, felt eerie at night. I remembered a conversation I had with a colleague (who was also not from Turkey) the previous week. He had told me how he’d avoid traveling to random places at all costs. I had told him the world was a much safer place, and people were generally nice all around. I was contemplating my own belief, realising how our emotions change based on the scenario. I hoped I was right.

At 7:30 PM, I still had more than seven hours to spend. I sought refuge in a seaside cafe, jotted down thoughts on my phone, and even made some work plans. After a while, I talked with my sister to feel better, without mentioning my fear. After an hour or so, I wandered around the village, eventually settling in a fancy seafood restaurant. By 11 PM, even that restaurant closed, leaving me with 2.5 hours to spend.

Luckily, while randomly wandering around, I found a local tea shop. I went inside and found a guy my age with his parents. As they too were almost closing, they offered me tea with the shop closed. Only the young guy could speak English, so we talked for an hour. He was an open person who told me about his travel adventures, how he had traveled as far as Brazil. I felt connected with the guy, perhaps because of his travel enthusiasm. At midnight, I knew I had to leave, as they had already spent more time than they had planned.

The last 1.5 hours were nerve-wracking. The village was almost deserted. But as I walked further, I saw a light nearby. It was a park with a public toilet and two guards nearby. It’s interesting how our mind works—just seeing the guards gave me a sense of security. So, I stayed around the place, pretending to use the public toilet every 10 minutes. Looking back, it’s funny imagining what they must have been thinking of me. Or maybe they didn’t even notice, as we seem to notice only ourselves.

I’d also walk to the bus stop every 15 minutes or so to check if the bus (or at least someone) was there, and then come back to my comfort space. Finally, at 1:30, when I walked to the stop, I saw two people—a young lady with her father. I remember asking them, “Bus to Ankara?” I can’t express how relieved I was when they nodded. Not only was the handwritten ticket authentic, but there were people around me, so whatever happened, I wouldn’t be alone. Slowly, people started arriving, and finally, around 1:40 AM, a bus arrived.

That night, on that bus, I had my most comfortable two hours of sleep. By the time I reached my office at 9 AM, the entire adventure felt like a dream. Wandering in an ancient picturesque village, with my fears and insecurities, it was a reminder that travel is as much about inner exploration as it is about discovering new places.