From Tourist to Local: How a Russian Woman Adapted to Life in Turkey

Marina has been living in Antalya for three years, though moving there was never part of the plan. It all started with a regular vacation—she and her friends took a trip to Alanya. No one intended to stay, but after ten days at the hotel, they loved it so much that they decided to extend their trip. Since they all worked remotely, there was no urgent need to return to Russia.

After the vacation, they moved to Antalya, then spent some time in Istanbul, Bursa, Marmaris, and Kaş. In the end, three out of the six friends settled in Antalya. They found an apartment and handled other practical matters through Russian-speaking contacts—real estate agents, acquaintances—simply because it was easier.

At first, Marina didn’t feel the need to learn Turkish. However, to navigate markets, restaurants, and daily life, she had to pick up basic words and phrases—numbers, days of the week, simple greetings. English was only useful in tourist areas; in local neighborhoods, most people didn’t speak it at all.

At first, life in Turkey seemed easy.
"We felt carefree—everything was much cheaper than in Russia, and prices were very reasonable."

They traveled a lot, rented cars, and visited Pamukkale, Cappadocia, and other cities. But over time, things changed.
"Prices for Russians have gone up significantly. If you work remotely for a Russian company, a salary in rubles isn’t enough anymore. Electricity, food, gas, electronics—everything is more expensive. An iPhone costs a fortune now."

Another downside was the tax on imported devices—four months after bringing a phone into the country, you have to register it and pay an additional fee.

Despite the challenges, Marina says locals have been incredibly friendly and helpful. If she ever needed directions or advice, people were always willing to assist. However, she quickly realized that knowing the language was essential—especially after noticing that some people, like taxi drivers, would take advantage of tourists who didn’t understand Turkish.

Making friends was another challenge. She joined Telegram groups, attended expat meetups and dance classes, but many of the people she met eventually left as getting a residence permit became more difficult.

She only started seriously learning Turkish about a year and a half ago. That’s when she hired a tutor, became more comfortable talking to her Turkish neighbors, and later met someone—constant practice helped her pick up the language naturally.

Falling in Love with Turkish Culture

One of the biggest things that helped Marina feel more at home was the food. Over time, she developed a love for Turkish cuisine—especially Adana and Urfa kebabs, traditional chicken soup, çiğ köfte, and simit. She now regularly visits Turkish cafés and markets, something she avoided at first. She even bought a special trolley for grocery shopping, just like many locals do.

Gradually, everyday life became easier. Calling a taxi, which used to require finding a button at a designated stop, became much simpler with the arrival of Uber and Yandex Taxi. Russian products also started appearing in supermarkets—sour cream, buckwheat, condensed milk—all the things Russians abroad tend to miss.

The only thing she had to get used to was delivery services. While they work well in Turkey, logistics can be unpredictable. Unlike in Russia, where online orders arrive on schedule, in Turkey, there are no fixed delivery dates, and packages can be delayed indefinitely.