You probably know me mostly from the pages of my novels, perhaps even expecting me to write something about my next book. But today, I want to delve into a completely different topic—one that might help you better interpret what I think between the lines of my novels, how I shape the souls of my characters. This is a story that’s a little personal, a little societal, a journey of discovery.

35 Stops in 17 Days: A European Adventure and an Unexpected Role

This summer, I embarked on an incredibly intense yet utterly fascinating European tour. Visiting 35 different locations in 17 days might sound exhausting, but every moment was worth it. One of these stops was Pompeii, the city where time stood still. Our group was quite large, and suddenly, I found myself acting as the guide's interpreter! Although I had no prior experience with simultaneous translation, thanks to our friendly group and the warm hospitality of our Italian guide, I quickly adapted to this new role.

Just as we were about to visit the city's famous brothel, our guide issued a warning: "Be careful with the children!" Under the curious gaze of my 14-year-old son, we decided to proceed with the translation a bit more cautiously, choosing my words carefully.

From Ancient to Modern: The Contrasting Mirrors of Two Cities

About a week later, a completely different world awaited us: Amsterdam's Red Light District. One, an ancient ruin; the other, openly displayed in the modern world. Two different eras, two different cultures, yet the same fundamental human needs reflected in different ways. This stark contrast led us all into deep contemplation.

My mind immediately drifted to the marriage dialogues in my novel "Blue Collapse." Then, an unforgettable memory from my university years resurfaced. When I was living in a state dormitory, there was an older gentleman we called "Recep Abi" who ran the canteen – he was witty and great at conversation. One week, he disappeared. When he returned, we asked him where he’d been. He told us he had gone to the largest brothel in Turkey. And it was in my hometown! I had no idea such a large establishment existed there. Though even if I had, I never thought of visiting it.

Why Didn't I Go? A Writer's Inner Questions

So, why didn't I go? The answer remains unclear in my mind. Was it social pressure? Was it the painful history of women's servitude that began in ancient times? Or perhaps the very idea of paid sex was simply repulsive to me from the start? I don't know. And I still don't plan to go.

However, I've always been curious about the culture and this profound aspect of human behavior. Perhaps that's why, as a passive observer, I watched both a revue show in Prague and the Red Light District in Amsterdam from a distance. The most I did was have a beer and quietly observe how beauty and human needs can be transformed into lust for money. I know I'm not against the existence of brothels.

Nevertheless, your comments on this complex topic are incredibly valuable to me, my dear readers. What are your thoughts? What are your ideas about human needs, societal norms, and the existence of such places? I eagerly await your responses!