A Postal Misadventure
Before starting todays story I want to acknowledge the tragic earthquake that occurred in Türkiye and Syria last week. Although I did not visit the most affected areas in Türkiye, I know the impacts of this tragedy will be felt far and wide.
If you haven’t already and are looking for ways to support the relief effort there are a lot of charities and organisations on the ground.
I have donated through the Red Cross; with more information about their appeals here: IFRC – Türkiye and Syria earthquakes
This story starts in Antalya, Türkiye. I’d been on the road about a month and had quickly come to realise I bought far too much stuff with me.
In hindsight I could have taken a lot less but at the time of departure I had no clue where I was going or where I’d end up.
(Everything did get used at least once though. Whether they were truly necessary or simply a stubborn attempt to justify packing them, I won’t say.)
Anyway this story isn’t about poor packing but about the attempt to alleviate the problem.
I made the decision that I would go about sending some things home. So I did a little research for my options. The big internationals came up of course; UPS & FedEx, but even ignoring the price it seemed a challenge to arrange. It was on to PTT, the Turkish national post. All looked well; plenty of offices, a
manageable price, bearable timelines.
A few days in Antalya and off to the Post office I went with an American I’d met at the hostel. He had similar plans.
We arrived at bright yellow signed Turkish Post office. After a short wait we made our way to the counter.
Things started rather smoothly considering the language barrier. I imagine the process was helped by the fact it was a post office and I had learnt how to say New Zealand in Turkish (Yeni Zelanda).
I acquired a box and then returned to the counter with everything packed. The post lady had a look at the contents, asked a few questions and made a few notes. Eventually she entered all the details to the computer and informed me of the price.
An unexpected total of $110 NZD.
Considering my research had estimated half that I was shocked. How had this little box of things doubled in price. It’s contents were few;
- A pair of shoes
- A couple items of clothing
- A small box of Turkish delight
- A bag of spices
- A small snow globe
- A photo frame and photos
- And a handful of other small souvenirs
Coming to no more than 5kg.
So what exploded the price? The unfortunate fact that post to New Zealand could only go express.
Understandable I suppose but frustrating. A fact made worse by my American friend who sent a box at least 4x larger home for half the price of mine.
I sent it anyway. I’d made it this far. But oh I should have turned away and found another solution.
All seemed well the box on its way but it didn’t last.
On the bus to Cappadocia, I received a call, and despite the language barrier, I managed to understand that it was from the post office. My package hadn’t left Türkiye and it may have returned to the office.
After several minutes she hung up and I was left wondering what to do. That was until a new number called. This time a guy who spoke English. He explained his mother had called asking him to speak to me.
My package had been turned back by customs. Apparently, something in the box—perhaps the Turkish delight or spices—was not correctly packaged and flagged by customs. I would have to return to collect it.
This was a problem, I had no plans to return to Antalya, could the box be sent elsewhere, he wasn’t sure and suggested I call when I got to my next destination.
It was in limbo.
As luck would have it a few days later I mentioned the debacle to a my tour agent in Cappadocia while drinking Raki in his lounge with a number of other locals. He offered to help and called the post office for me.
A success, his call gave me hope, I could have the box forwarded to another post office I simply needed them to send a request to Antalya.
Upon arrival to Izmir a few days later I visited a post office (2 actually but the first had no one with enough English to help me). They weren’t confident in the option but were happy to try. I waited several days before returning, and again hopes were dashed.
Now I had no choice but to return to Antalya to collect the box. So after a second spontaneous overnight trip to Pamukkale (more on that later), I boarded another overnight bus back to Antalya.
The box was collected along with paperwork for a refund, I spent another day in Antalya visiting the Aquarium, and watching Morbius at the movies (there was an intermission which was unexpected) before boarding the 3rd overnight bus in 3 days and heading to Çanakkale.
All done? Not quite.
The box was in my possession but one last twist of fate mere days after arriving in Sofia, Bulgaria. The refund couldn’t be processed, and since my Turkish number had expired, the post office had to contact my mum in New Zealand. Was there a way to send new details over the phone? No I would have to go to the same office in Antalya.
Well that wasn’t going to happen. A very expensive failure in posting a box and a “donation” to the Turkish Post.
If you read this far you’ll be pleased to know I did eventually send a box home several months later, and a little bit larger, from Belgrade, Serbia. It made it, although a little worse for wear.
Here’s to smoother postal experiences for everyone—may all your parcels find their way home.
Cheers, Cohen