Living in Australia, one generally needs to travel a decent distance to get to the most basic locations such as schools, shops, restaurants, work, et cetera. Public transport is not as easily accessible as it is in Turkey – although the traffic is not nearly as horrendous either! Hence, born and raised in Australia, the first thing for me to do at the age of eligibility (17 years and 9 months back in my time) was get a car license. So even with over 15 years of driving experience – excuse me for not wanting to reveal my age, which isn't really very important after 30 anyway – driving in Turkey, particularly in Istanbul has not been a desire of mine.For three years now, I have not touched the steering wheel except on certain occasions when I go back to Australia to visit family. When I am asked what I miss the most back "home," other than the Turkish-Aussie kebabs boasting succulent, tastiest-ever real chicken meat – the lamb is just as delish – topped with tabbouleh and garlic sauce, without even giving it a second thought, I say the convenience of having my car and driving it.I love Istanbul, so much that I left my family and friends as well as everything of familiarity back in my other home, Melbourne, to come and live here. Yet I have to admit, anything from everyday chores to running errands involving bureaucracy, is exhausting. Even the simple routine act of walking on the sidewalk turns into a battle during peak hours. So, the thought of buying a car in Istanbul never crossed my mind. Despite my driving experience, I wouldn't know how to drive without having an accident, with vehicles almost always neglecting to indicate before they turn, overtaking recklessly, trying all they can to prevent giving the other driver way. As if fellow drivers weren't enough, you have the pedestrians to look out for, too. Seriously though, most people here need a license to walk even.It takes only a couple pedestrians to step onto the road – when the lights are green for vehicles – for masses to follow and stop traffic even on a green light.While getting from point A to point B in Istanbul is a strenuous task on its own, parking is not a play in the park either. Did you think it would be easy to find parking spaces in a city populated by 18-million-plus people with over 3 million cars and some 40,000 new ones entering traffic monthly, according to the Turkish Statistical Institute (TurkStat)?The other day, a colleague, who is also a dear friend, came to work to visit. After driving around for a while and failing to find a parking spot on the street, she decided to leave her car at a paid parking lot. To her disappointment, the parking lot was jam packed and the attendant refused to accept her in despite her relentless begging.Upset, she drove around some more until she eventually found a spot to fit her sleek Audi hatch.Unaware of what awaited us that evening, we spent the day together at work until we could clock off and enjoy a pleasant dinner.The time had come, we were finally free to leave, but where would we go? After weighing our options, still undecided, we thought we would hop in her car and "go with the flow."After a brief walk in the back streets of Balmumcu, Beşiktaş leading to Fulya, we were left standing in the middle of the road. Not knowing where she had parked, I was waiting for her next move, but it didn't happen. Then suddenly she asked, "Where's my car?" Knowing "how" she is – very much like myself, clueless at most times – I didn't pay attention, thinking of the many times I forgot where I had parked in the past.After a brief pause, without stopping to breathe, she mumbled a jumble of things one after the other: "This is where I parked. I couldn't find parking. I drove around, I went to the parking lot. The guy wouldn't let me in. I literally begged him. As if it was going to kill him to accept one more car! I drove some more. Again no parking spots. Then I saw this space and parked."Never having come across anything like this before, not knowing what to think or do, I asked, "Are you sure you didn't park a little down the road?" She was sure, "No, I drove through this road and reversed into this space."I looked, it was a one-way road. "You would have had to come in the opposite direction, are you sure?" I asked once more to confirm. She responded in the positive.I don't know all the traffic rules in Turkey and frankly, I don't think many license holders know them either, but based on logic and my knowledge of parking rules in Australia, you should not park within 10 meters of an intersection. So it was highly likely that her car was towed. Yet there was another, as likely but worse possibility: The car could have been stolen.How on earth would we find out what happened? What steps would need to be taken? How would we recover her car? Who would we call? I thought out loud, "What about that emergency hotline? Was it 155 or something? They might be able to help us find out if your car was towed or not? How else could we possibly find out?" "That's the police emergency hotline," she said, "we need to call the traffic hotline on 154."We both key in 1-5-4 on our phones, but to no avail. "You dialed the wrong number," is what we both heard on the other end of the call.So apparently the 154 traffic hotline was canceled in 2005 – sheesh, I did mention earlier that we are both usually clueless, did I not? – and the 155 police emergency hotline was ever since taking traffic-related calls, too.Finally, we at least find out the car was towed to a nearby parking lot, as that's how it works in Turkey. We would need to go to the specified parking lot and pay a certain fee to recover the vehicle.On a mission, we huffed and puffed to the main road, Barbaros Boulevard, to catch a cab, only to realize it was that time in the evening when it is almost impossible to find one empty. Running from one end of the road to the other, trying helplessly to stop a cab and failing miserably, we think, let's eat! It's not that we couldn't think on an empty stomach, but we thought, at least we can have our dinner as planned and by the time we are finished, it would be much easier to score an empty cab.To cut a very long story short, we ate, we talked and laughed into the late hours of the night, but only after calling the parking lot to confirm they were open 24/7. After our dinner, which turned out to be anything but what we had planned, we parted our ways and she hopped in a cab – without waiting. An hour later I received a message saying she recovered her car, safe and sound, for a fee of TL 100 ($34). Yes, it is illegal in Turkey also to park near an intersection.Having lived in Istanbul for a period of time in the early 2000s and back here again since 2012, I am more than grateful for the developments in the public transport system here. With all types of mass transit interlinked to offer a smoother commute to residents and visitors alike – although overflowing in certain more popular directions more often than not – I truly do not feel the need to trouble myself with driving amid the hustle and bustle of this already too crowded mega city. I think I already have enough adventure in my life.