Not just ‘Turkey teeth’ – Britons going abroad for routine dental care

For a while now, the phrase “Turkey teeth” has dominated headlines and social media feeds, usually accompanied by bright white smiles, dramatic transformations or cautionary tales about cosmetic dentistry gone wrong. It’s become shorthand for an entire industry that is often either mocked or feared.

But after spending several days inside an Istanbul dental clinic run by Dentakay, speaking to British patients and local dentists, and undergoing treatment myself, I realised that only tells part of the story. Many of the patients I met weren’t there in pursuit of the perfect Instagram smile.

Some had struggled to find an NHS dentist. Others had spent hundreds, or even thousands, dealing with recurring problems privately. Going to Turkey had become a practical option. It raises an uncomfortable question: when Brits are prepared to fly more than 2,000 miles for dental treatment, what does that say about dentistry back home?

I’ll admit I boarded my flight with assumptions of my own. I’d seen the horror stories and watched videos of dramatic smile transformations. My reasons for travelling were more complicated. I had some minor, long-standing issues with my teeth I wanted to address, while as a journalist I wanted to understand why overseas treatment had become so attractive.

Inside the clinic, one of the first things that struck me was how ordinary the waiting room felt. Patients drank coffee, scrolled through their phones and chatted about where they’d travelled from. English accents regularly drifted across the room. For many, this wasn’t their first visit. There were patients returning for later stages of implant treatment and others who had come back after previous procedures.

I’d also expected to meet predominantly younger people pursuing cosmetic transformations. Instead, I met patients of different ages with very different reasons for being there. Andrew, a British patient from Chelmsford, had travelled to Istanbul for the first time after years of problems with his teeth. Growing up in Scotland, he remembered regular NHS check-ups and an emphasis on preventing problems.

His experience as an adult had been very different. Andrew told me he had struggled to find an NHS dentist and said even securing private appointments could involve waiting six to eight weeks. After we spoke, he checked how much he had spent on his teeth in the UK during the previous six months. Around £750 – on just two teeth. One tooth had required repeated fillings and developed abscesses. On one occasion, Andrew needed an emergency out-of-hours appointment. The cost was £520.

“Just to see a dentist, out of hours,” he told me. “I’m here primarily to get my teeth fixed, not for a holiday,” he said.

His story stayed with me because it was so far removed from the image usually associated with dental tourism. He wanted longstanding problems with his teeth dealt with. Even when flights and accommodation are added, visiting Turkey can still work out cheaper for extensive treatments. Of course, Andrew is just one patient. But access to NHS dentistry has become a major concern in Britain, particularly sincethe pandemic.

Against that backdrop, it becomes easier to understand why somebody who previously wouldn’t have contemplated travelling abroad might start considering it. That doesn’t make overseas treatment risk-free. Stories of patients returning to Britain with pain, infections and complications have caused concern. There have also been warnings about patients having healthy teeth unnecessarily filed down for crowns, while arranging follow-up care is inherently more complicated when the dentist responsible for your treatment is in another country.

Andrew had some of those concerns. Before travelling, he had an X-ray carried out at Dentakay’s location in London. Having some physical contact with the company before travelling alone to Istanbul made a difference to his confidence. “That really just took the anxiety level from a 10 down to nothing,” he said.

He said the risks, warranty and aftercare had also been discussed with him before treatment. “It’s much more a case of, ‘Right, this is the warranty. This is what you need, these are the risks’.” Later when I sat down with Dentakay founder Dr Gülay Akay, she acknowledged that cost remains a major reason British patients travel to Turkey, but argued that time has become important too. A procedure that might be completed within four or five days there, she said, could take considerably longer to arrange in Britain.

At her own clinics, she says the increase in British patients has been dramatic. “In 2019, we had around 20 people coming a month from the UK. Now we have over 500,” Dr Akay said through a translator.

Dentakay says around 35% of those patients now come through referrals. What interested me most, however, was Dr Akay’s answer when I asked about veneers. Despite running a business in a country synonymous with cosmetic dentistry, she believes some patients simply should not have them. Someone with very crooked teeth may require too much healthy tooth structure to be removed while weak, infected or unstable teeth and poor oral hygiene can also make somebody unsuitable. Relatively simple problems could be better addressed through orthodontic treatment.

And if somebody with otherwise healthy teeth wants them brightened, Dr Akay said treatments like whitening are suggested. Her advice to anyone considering travelling for treatment was considerably less glamorous than the transformations filling social media feeds – get an X-ray before travelling, research the clinic and check that it holds the appropriate Turkish government accreditation.

She also warned patients against assuming an impressive digital presence automatically means there is an established clinic behind it. And a cheaper quote, shorter waiting time or impressive gallery of before-and-after photographs doesn’t remove the risks involved in dental treatment. Travelling abroad requires research and an understanding of exactly what you’re agreeing to. I certainly didn’t return home believing everyone unhappy with their smile should book a flight to Istanbul. But I did understand why the option has become so attractive.

There will always be people travelling primarily because they want to change the way their teeth look – just as I made a personal choice to improve aspects of mine. There’s nothing wrong with that, provided patients understand the consequences and receive appropriate advice. But reducing the growing number of Brits seeking treatment abroad to a story about “Turkey teeth” misses something much bigger. I flew to Istanbul expecting to understand Britain’s fascination with dental tourism.

By the time I flew home, I wasn’t thinking very much about Turkey teeth at all. I was thinking more about the problems surrounding British dentistry, and why getting on a plane has started to feel like a reasonable alternative.