Istanbul: the city of two continents, and the patience it asks of you

It’s 5:30 a.m. on the Galata Bridge and the fishermen are already in their positions, rods extended over the water, one to a railing-section, like a row of standing reeds. The call to prayer has been moving across the city for several minutes — first from the Sultanahmet side, then echoing back from Beyoğlu, then from Üsküdar across the Bosphorus. The fishermen don’t look up. They’ve heard this sound at this hour for forty years.

Why I keep coming back

Istanbul is the city I have visited most often and understood least. I came first in 2006, on assignment for a magazine that mostly wanted a story about the bazaars; I came back in 2008 to write something about post-secularist Turkey; in 2012 and 2014 for travel essays; in 2019 and 2022 and 2024 just because I missed it. The city resists being known.

It’s too large. It contains too many neighbourhoods that function essentially as their own small cities. It moves between Asian-side calm and European-side intensity. It has been the capital of three different empires and the unwilling capital of none. The historical Byzantine layers are buried under the Ottoman layers, which are buried under the Republican-era layers, which are now layered under a global-city tourism boom that has its own architectural fingerprint.

What I keep coming back for is the ferries. The Bosphorus ferries are, frankly, the most beautiful daily commute in Europe.

Where to base yourself

Karaköy or Galata, on the European side just north of the Golden Horn. Old port neighbourhood, hip cafés, walkable to Beyoğlu and a tram to the historic peninsula.

Cihangir or Cukurcuma, a 15-minute walk up from Karaköy. Cobblestone streets, antiques shops, the writer Orhan Pamuk’s old neighbourhood; quiet for Istanbul, which means it’s still alive.

Kadıköy on the Asian side, across the Bosphorus by ferry. Where Istanbul’s young creative class actually lives now. The Tuesday market is the largest in the city. The seafood at Çiya Sofrası alone is worth a base here.

Avoid Sultanahmet as a base for more than two nights. It’s the tourist epicentre, food is mediocre and overpriced, and the call-to-prayer at 4 a.m. from the Blue Mosque next door is its own form of jet-lag.

What to actually do

Visit Hagia Sophia. It is now a working mosque again (since 2020), and a partial museum during non-prayer hours. The ground floor is free. The dome is the dome. Stand under it. Most of the great Byzantine mosaics are now obscured by Islamic geometric panels but a few remain visible.

Then the Chora Church (Kariye Mosque). Less famous, smaller, but its Byzantine mosaics and frescoes are the most preserved of any pre-Ottoman monument in the city. Also returned to mosque status in 2020. Take the bus or a taxi out — it’s in Edirnekapı, a 25-minute ride from the centre.

Spend an afternoon on a Bosphorus ferry. The cheap commuter ferries — yellow boats from Eminönü, Karaköy, or Üsküdar — cost a euro or two and are far better than the tourist Bosphorus cruise. Take the Eminönü–Anadolu Kavağı boat which goes the entire length of the Bosphorus to a small fishing village at the entrance to the Black Sea, where you can have lunch and walk to a Byzantine fortress on the hill. Six hours round trip, including lunch.

Wander the Grand Bazaar without buying anything. Four thousand shops, sixty-one covered streets, in continuous operation since 1461. The trick is to walk it slowly, learn the layout, ignore the persistent invitations to come look at carpets. The smaller Egyptian Bazaar (Spice Bazaar) at the foot of Galata Bridge is more compact and arguably more rewarding.

Drink a Turkish coffee in a meyhane. The meyhane — Greek-Turkish wine-and-meze tavern — is the great institution of nights out in Istanbul. Lokal Meyhane in Cihangir, Asmalı Cavit in Beyoğlu. The cold meze, the raki, the long evening.

Visit a hammam. Çemberlitaş Hamamı, built in 1584, is the classic. Two hours: heat, scrub, soap, rinse, mint tea. Don’t expect privacy; do expect humility.

Where to eat

Turkish cuisine in Istanbul is a vast, regional thing — kebabs from the southeast, fish and meze from the Aegean and Black Sea, Anatolian peasant food from the inland.

Çiya Sofrası (Kadıköy) — Musa Dağdeviren’s project of recovering near-extinct Anatolian regional dishes. Order whatever the day’s specials are.

Karaköy Lokantası (Karaköy) — Modern Turkish, blue-tiled dining room, the daily lokanta lunch is the simplest and best meal in the city for the price.

Mikla (Beyoğlu) — Mehmet Gürs’s flagship, rooftop, modern Anatolian. The view of the city is the most extraordinary in the city.

Bambi Café — A take-away sandwich place near Taksim. The chicken döner sandwich is two euros. Eat it standing up.

Karaköy Güllüoğlu — The baklava reference standard. Pistachio, cut by weight, eaten over the box, with a Turkish coffee.

When to come

Late April to early June, or mid-September to early November. Pleasant temperatures, the city in its better mood.

July and August are hot, humid, and the historic peninsula is crowded. Winter (December–February) has cold rain and short days but very few crowds and the city’s grey beauty in full.

Avoid Ramadan if you don’t want to plan around fasting hours — restaurants in conservative neighbourhoods will be largely closed during the day.

Practical notes

• Visa: Most Western passports need an e-visa (online, easy, around US$30) before arrival.
• Money: Turkish lira; inflation has been high and prices change quickly. Pay in lira; some places quote in euros which is usually a bad rate. Card is widely accepted but cash is useful in markets and small restaurants.
• Transport: The İstanbulkart is the universal travel card, refillable, used on trams, buses, metro, ferries. Buy one at any station. The ferries are the joy of the city.
• Scams: The shoe-shine boy who drops a brush in front of you and tries to charge you to clean your shoe. The ‘friend’ who invites you to a bar where the bill turns out to be €500. Both real, both predictable.
• Language: Turkish; English is spoken in tourist areas and is patchy elsewhere. A few words go a long way.
• Dress code at mosques: Shoulders and knees covered for everyone; a head scarf for women (often loaned at the door).

A final thought

Istanbul is the city I have most often been wrong about, in print. I’ve called the Bosphorus the city’s soul, which is sort of true and sort of a writer’s reach. I’ve called the call to prayer mournful, which I now think is a Western misreading of an entirely matter-of-fact daily call. I’ve described the Grand Bazaar as a maze, which is true if you’ve never been there twice; if you’ve been there ten times, it has the legibility of any other large building.

What the city actually requires of you is time and attention, in roughly equal measure. A week is the minimum. Two weeks is better. Spend the long mornings at the historical monuments; the afternoons on ferries; the evenings in meyhanes; the late nights, if you’re up for it, on the rooftops of Beyoğlu. Drink raki only when you have nothing the following morning. Walk more than you plan to. Trust the city to be older and stranger than you can fully take in. Come back. The city has been there for two thousand years. It can wait.