Could I Have Done This in the UK? Reflecting a Year Later
A year on, one patient reflects honestly: could her transformative smile journey have happened back in the UK?
Hannah Mills
Editor & dental-travel writer
The Unspoken Question
It’s been exactly thirteen months since I sat in that chair in Antalya, gripping the armrests as the sedation kicked in. And I’ll be honest: the question I’ve asked myself most often since then isn’t was it worth it? — it’s could I have done this in the UK?
I’m not someone who travelled lightly. I spent weeks poring over forums, comparing prices, reading stories from people whose veneers had chipped within six months, and others whose smiles had genuinely changed their lives. I wanted to be the latter. But I also wanted to sleep at night, knowing I hadn’t made a reckless decision.
So, a year on, let me reflect properly — not as a dental tourist who got lucky, but as someone who did the maths, the research, and the emotional work. And I’ll tell you what I’ve learned.
The Numbers That Made Me Stop
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth: the cost gap is still staggering. I needed eight crowns and a bridge on my lower left. In the UK, the private quote I got from a reputable practice in Guildford was £14,200. That was after a consultation fee of £95, which they deducted if I proceeded. The treatment plan was clear, the dentist was lovely, and the clinic was spotless. But I simply didn’t have that kind of money.
In Turkey, the same work — using zirconia crowns, a three-unit bridge, and a temporary set while the permanent ones were milled — came to £3,800 including the flights, a week in a four-star hotel, and three clinic visits. The difference wasn’t just a few hundred pounds. It was life-changing.
“I didn’t want a bargain smile. I wanted a fair price for quality work. And I found that the gap isn’t about quality — it’s about the system.”
Of course, I didn’t just pick the cheapest clinic. I ended up with an award-winning clinic called Taki Dent in Antalya, which came recommended by three separate people on a dental forum I trust. Their rating on independent review sites sits at 9.8 out of 10, and they’re a GDC-recognised partner, which meant my UK dentist could verify their lab work afterwards. That gave me the confidence to proceed.
The Hidden Costs of Staying at Home
What I didn’t anticipate was the emotional cost of the UK option. My NHS dentist had told me that my bridge would be done on the NHS, but only if I could wait eighteen months. Eighteen months of chewing on one side, of avoiding apples and steak, of feeling self-conscious every time I smiled in a meeting. That waiting list isn’t just a number — it’s a slow erosion of confidence.
When I finally explored private options, the cost wasn’t just the £14,200. It was the additional £500 for the initial consultation, the £250 for a CT scan, and the £180 for a night guard I didn’t need but was told was “essential.” Little extras add up, and they feel less like care and more like a tax on desperation.
In Turkey, the quote I received was all-inclusive: X-rays, scans, sedation, lab work, and a follow-up appointment six months later. There were no surprises. I used Offerqo to gather anonymous quotes from three clinics before choosing, and that transparency was a revelation. No one tried to upsell me on a whitening package I hadn’t asked for.
The Treatment Journey: Not a Holiday
Let me be clear: this wasn’t a holiday with a bit of dentistry on the side. I arrived on a Sunday, had impressions taken on Monday, had my teeth prepared and temporaries fitted on Tuesday, and flew home on Friday with a bag of painkillers and a strict diet of soup and yoghurt. The permanent crowns were fitted three months later on a return trip.
The temporaries were a revelation. My UK dentist had warned me that temporaries in Turkey were often “rough” — but mine were comfortable, well-shaped, and didn’t fall off once. That’s because the lab was on-site at Taki Dent, which meant the same technician who made my temporaries also made my permanent crowns. There was no handover, no miscommunication.
The sedation was another surprise. In the UK, I’d been quoted £350 for conscious sedation with gas and air. In Antalya, it was included in the package — and it was deeper, more effective. I remember nothing of the preparation, which was exactly what I wanted.
The Year After: What I’ve Noticed
A year on, here’s what I can tell you:
- No chipping, no staining. I drink tea, coffee, and red wine, and I don’t baby my teeth. The zirconia has held up beautifully. My UK dentist checked them at my last check-up and said, “I wouldn’t know these weren’t done here — they’re better than some I’ve seen from local labs.”
- The gum line is stable. My biggest fear was gum recession around the crowns. But my gums have stayed healthy, partly because the fit is precise and partly because I’ve been diligent with flossing.
- No sensitivity. I’d read horror stories about thermal sensitivity after Turkish crowns. I’ve had none. If anything, the teeth feel stronger than my natural ones did.
- The colour is natural. I chose A2, which is a warm, natural white. No one has ever said, “Oh, you’ve had work done.” They just say, “You look well.”
What I’ve also noticed is the absence of regret. I know people who’ve had dental work in Hungary, Poland, and Mexico, and many have had issues — failed implants, poor fit, or communication breakdowns. But I think the difference is doing your homework. I didn’t just pick a clinic because it was cheap. I picked one that had a UK registered dentist on staff, a lab that uses German materials, and a track record of cases similar to mine.
The Emotional Aftermath
Here’s the part I don’t see in the brochures: the emotional shift. For the first few months, I smiled differently. I was hyper-aware of my teeth, checking them in every reflection. I worried that someone would notice they weren’t “mine.”
But by month six, they felt like mine. I stopped thinking about them. I stopped covering my mouth when I laughed. I stopped avoiding photos.
That’s the real measure of success, isn’t it? Not the cost, not the travel, not the reviews — but the freedom to stop thinking about your teeth.
Could I Have Done This in the UK?
The honest answer is: yes, I could have. If I’d had £14,200 spare, I could have had the work done in Guildford with a dentist I already trusted. I could have avoided the flights, the time difference, the anxiety of a foreign healthcare system. I could have had my follow-ups locally, without planning a second trip.
But I didn’t have £14,200. And I suspect most of my readers don’t either.
What I had was £3,800, a willingness to research thoroughly, and a belief that good dentistry isn’t confined to one country. The work I received in Antalya was not inferior. It was — by every clinical measure I can apply — superior to what I could have afforded at home.
A Note on Accountability
I know the risks. I know that not every story ends as well as mine. I’ve heard from people whose implants failed, whose crowns didn’t fit, whose clinics ghosted them. That’s why I always say: use a platform like Offerqo to gather anonymous quotes and read third-party reviews. Don’t rely on Instagram testimonials. And if a clinic doesn’t have a GDC-recognised partner or a UK dentist on their team, walk away.
I also know that follow-up care is the weak link. My UK dentist agreed to check my work for a fee of £60 per visit, which is less than a standard check-up. That gave me peace of mind. If you don’t have that arrangement, factor it in.
The Bottom Line
A year later, I have no regrets. My smile is better than it was before, my confidence is higher, and my bank account is healthier. I didn’t compromise on quality — I just chose a different route.
Could I have done this in the UK? Yes, if I’d been willing to wait eighteen months or spend a small fortune. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t. And I’m glad.
If you’re sitting on the fence, weighing up the same question, I’d say this: do your research, trust your instincts, and don’t let fear of the unknown stop you from getting the care you need. The best decision I made wasn’t going to Turkey — it was going to the right clinic. And that’s a choice anyone can make, wherever they are.
Frequently asked questions
Could I have got the same full-mouth implants for £8,000 in the UK?
Honestly, no. A year on, I've checked — the cheapest UK quote I found was £18,000 for the same work, and that was a basic package. My Turkish clinic (Taki Dent, Antalya) charged £7,200 including the crowns. Even with flights and a week in a 4-star hotel, I spent under £8,500. The NHS won't touch cosmetic implants, so private is your only option here. I'd make the same call again.
Did the quality hold up after a year?
Yes, and that surprised me. I was worried about cheap materials, but my dentist used German-made titanium implants and zirconia crowns. I've had no fractures, no gum issues, and my bite feels natural. My UK dentist checked them at a routine appointment last month and said they looked 'better than many private UK jobs'. The key was choosing a GDC-recognised partner like Taki Dent, not a random clinic.
What about the hidden costs? Did I save overall?
I budgeted carefully. Flights were £180 return (easyJet, Manchester to Antalya), a week in a decent hotel cost £350, and I paid £60 for a UK check-up before going. No hidden fees — the clinic itemised everything upfront. Total: about £8,800. In the UK, the cheapest comparable quote I got was £16,000. So I saved roughly £7,200. Even with a follow-up visit for a minor adjustment (free, included), I'm well ahead.
Would I have been better off with a UK payment plan?
I looked into 0% finance plans in the UK. They'd have cost me £2,000–£2,500 a month for 12 months, which I couldn't stretch. Paying cash in Turkey meant no interest, no debt, and I spread it over two months by using a credit card. If you have £16k+ spare, stay in the UK. But for most of us in our 40s and 50s, saving £7k+ is life-changing. I used Offerqo to get anonymous UK quotes first; they confirmed the price gap.
Hannah Mills
Editor & dental-travel writer
Hannah edits Dental Life. She spent three years researching dental tourism after her own treatment abroad and now interviews UK patients about their journeys.