Hello art travelers, today we're going to continue exploring Turkey. Today's blog is very special to me because it's the last one... so I've chosen a special topic. It has more to do with culture, but in my opinion it’s also something artistic, filling every corner and landscape with life and beauty: the cats.

One of the first things that caught my eye and my heart when I arrived in Turkey was the cats. Both in Izmir, the city where I live and also when I visited Istanbul. They’re everywhere. Lounging on café chairs, wandering through bookshops, sleeping under the sun in front of mosques, even attending my university classes. But what struck me most wasn’t just how many there are, but how naturally they belong here.

Coming from abroad, it’s rare to see animals so integrated into everyday urban life. People feed them, build them little shelters, and leave out water bowls without a second thought. It doesn’t feel like charity, it feels like a quiet understanding. Without realizing it, I've built a very special relationship with the cats in my building: the fluffy and kind "Sonsoles," the affectionate "Chispis," the stealthy "Pat," the grumpy “Silver”, and my favorite, the fearful and skittish "Moqui." Sonsoles, Chispis, Pat, Silver, Moqui: I will miss you… and I hope we will meet sometime again…

I recently learned something very interesting. The Prophet Muhammad’s affection for cats, and how stories like that shaped this deep cultural respect. But honestly, even without knowing the religious roots, you can feel that these animals are not outsiders.

In Turkey, cats don’t have owners, they have a community. They walk through ancient streets and bustling markets as if they own the place… and maybe they do.

For me, they’ve become a symbol of something beautiful in Turkish culture: kindness without spectacle, care without expectation. Just a shared life, gracefully lived.