Bosphurus and Balat

 Monday 23 September

Feeling a bit rough after vast amounts of walking yesterday, we head out a bit later than usual to visit the Sulmanaye mosque and social complex - it's very tranquil, and the cemetery is quite beautiful, though neither of the tombs are open. The mosque is amazing and we thought was on a par with the Blue, but much less frenetic with a more private space for women to pray. There are spectacular views of the city from the terrace, and what's more, it's free!

The streets down to Eminonu port were very steep and full of costume jewellery and metalwork (specifically belt buckle) wholesalers, just as the area near us is full of shoe and handbag showrooms. We found the cheapest Bosphurus tour that was available - no frills, no audio guide - and went on a 90-minute loop cruise to view both European and Asian Istanbul from the water. Apparently only about 3% of Turkiye is in Europe, the rest in Asia, and Istanbul on the Asian side appears far bigger and more urban/industiral/built up in a modern way. 

Back to the port and we hopped on the ever-useful tram a couple of stops to Fener and walked into the rcute neighbourhood of Balat. There are lots of colourfully painted houses, and little cafes and interesting shops.

There's a rather lovely synagogue way up high and we couldn't quite work out how to walk up there until it was too late - we would have been dragging behind a very large party of Italians. A shared ice cream (for some reason they'll only serve cups with a very large minimum quantity!) and we were heading back for the tram and came across a T-shirt run by a very sweet elderly gentleman and I found the gift I'd been seeking for someone. 

We ate at our "hotel" (it's a restaurant and bar with rooms really). The musicians were there, and the waiters were friendly as always, and we were pleasantly surprised by the food and wine - it's hardly gourmet, but it was tasty and we had proper bread (unlike the horrible dry long-life stuff they give us at breakfast), and of course, Raki to finish. I won't be bringing any home as it always tastes disgusting out of context. 

Cisterns, spice markets and the Orient Express

 Sunday 22 September 

We start the day in the extremely beautifully restored Basilica Cistern, once the hub of the water distirbution network. It's quite beautiful and lit accordingly, including modern sculptures as well as a version of Medusa backlit so that she appears as a sinister shadow on a nearly wall,  It's rather expensive to get in compared to other attractions. the palace the day before was probably better value, but it's very atmospheric.

As we come out the heavens have opened (not on the forecast, thanks BBC!) so we wait a while in the very good gift shop. Love the ceracmic ocean liner arrangement of tableware.

Once the rain has stopped, we then head off to the Spice Marker which is unsurprisingly both crammed and overpriced. After a brief stop to buy some probably very over-priced saffron, we head over the road to Sirkeci station, currently in process of refurbishment, but where the Orient Express found its terminus back in the day. It has some beautiful stained glass and a charming little free museum, but it's still used as a mainline station. Later that day we also visit Pele Palace Hotel, where many of the celebrity guests alighting the Orient Express went to stay whilst in Istanbul.

After a brief lunch stop at a fast food chain I'm sure I've seen in London, we head over to the ferry and for the price of a tram fare go over to Kakkale on the Asian side. At first it feels a bit like Croydon on a Sunday afternoon (with everyone out to shop - though tbh I've never been in Croydon on a Sunday afternoon), but we have some delicious ice cream and an enjoyable wander through the streets, keeping our purses tightly shut. Not what we expected, but the locals obviously know what to go for.

Twenty minutes back into Eminomu and we take the rammed funicular and antique tram up the hill to Taksim Square via Oxford Street. There's a lovely memorial to you-know-who at the top but the rest of it is just modern retail as far as the eye can see.

 

So we decide to head back downhill and after a slightly unpleasant walk through the less celubrious parts of Beyoglu, we find the Pere Palace which hass accommodated so many famous guests including Ms Christie herself, and we treat ourselves to a not-horrendously expensive glass of wine with some lovely nuts in the rather beautiful but also rather dimly-lit bar. And of course the loos live up to expectaions.

We then find Hazzo Pulo, an historic and rather quaint restaurant nearby, decorated with press cuttings that we think must feature the two 60-something guys in charge - brothers or gay, not sure, but one of them gives us both a massive hug when we say it's the best wine list we seen, and when we've been presented with a menu without photographs...

Afterwards we go home the wrong way and tempers fray a little. By the time we get back to the Old Ottoman after a very long walk, Dee has heartburn and I'm in need of more alcohol, So she goes to bed and I sit up to listen to our resident folk band  with a Raki and am joined for a chat by a pony-tailed (too old for it) DJ from Norway called Lars who's pleasant enough company but after a while the Scandinavian glumness sends me off to bed (alone!) with a handshake and "have fun". He's nearly 20 years my junior and even if I could get over the ponytail it's extremely unlikely he would be in the slightest bit interested in me!

Palaces and paintings

 

Saturday 21 September

Bleurgh. It's not supposed to rain here, is it? Cats and dogs. After a rather disappointing breakfast (especially the long life rolls wrapped in plastic), umbrellas are up and cagoules are on and we walk uphill to the tram which takes us pretty speedily to its terminus at Kabatas, where we get off and join the throng heading for the Dolmabahce Palace on the banks of the Bosphurus. 

Public transport here is pretty cheap - we inherited the Istanbul version of an Oyster card and each journey is 20TL (about 50p) each, applying to tram, ferry, metro and bus (but with the traffic here, you'd be made to use the latter unless you really had to - quicker to walk from the nearest metro or tram stop in the centre of the city.

Cheap is not an epithet you would apply to the palace. Built in the 19th century when the then sultan (following a visit to Europe and getting home decor envy) decided he wanted to move himself and his harem out of the centre of the city to be beside the river, Abdul Mecit virtually bankrupted the Ottoman Empire by creating a palace that rivalled Versailles in its opulence and grandeur. (No photos allowed inside.) Biggest chandeliers, mirrors and carpets I have ever seen, and soooo many chairs, all neatly set out. 

It's all a bit OTT - I find it a kind of sterile luxury - and even the harem part is pretty spectacular. We both found it all a bit repetitive, amazing though it is. A nice room is actually Ataturk's bedroom - rather than waste the palace when he formed the republic, it became his Istanbul base and he spent his last days there, passing away in his bedroom at 9.05am (so the clock is stopped at that time - this happens elsewhere too as a permanent memorial to their national hero.) It's kind of ironic that he went to live there in 1922 after the last sultan fled from the palace to live in exile in 1922, his predecessor really having paved the way for a republic by his extravagance. 

The gardens are pleasant, and when transferring from the main palace to the harem we had to exit river side and were treated to the sight of lots of small sailboats (dinghies?) having a race.

  

Feeling rather grandeured out, for a complete contrast we hopped back on the tram for a couple of stops and got off at Istanbul Modern, a new contemporary art museum within the new and trendy Gelataport complex which has a decent concession price for seniors (gotta love an old gits discount). After a pitstop in their nice cafe and a visit to the flooded rooftop terrace which the seagulls were enjoying (sadly not a combined cafe and terrace, really should be!) we saw some baffling but also some cracking works. Favourites included beautiful monochrome photographs of ordinary Turkish twentieth century life by Ozan Sagdic, a temporary exhibition for Olafur Eliasson's work (echoed Anish Kapoor for me), and this incredibly complex thread network installation by Chiharu Shiota that formed a tunnel through a room which must have been at least 40' square. One of those pieces that makes me think "where on earth did you start?" and was well worth a visit.

Dee buys a poster and we leave at closing time, wending our way through the narrow streets of Karakoy, where there are small quirky shops, Gulluoglu, the biggest baklava shop and cafe ever, a swanky new Marriott hotel, and more bars and restaurants than you can shake a stick at, along with the usual persistent frontmen who try to persuade you in. First though, a couple of Cosmopolitans in Happy Hour, but we did rather pay a price for waiting as by the time we're ready to eat, the local derby footie match between Galertaseray (European side) and Fenerbahce (ground on the Asian side, where the match is being played, even though they represent Fener which is on the European side) is about to begin, and any restaurant with a TV is full of blokes in football shirts (getting along quite nicely - at that point, anyway) swilling Efes in a fug of fag smoke. Gals won 3-1 apparently.

We find somewhere without a TV, and have a burger and a nice glass of red. (Sometimes the local food just gets a bit samey and you want what you want.) We find the T1 tram nearby afterwards as we think it wise to get back before the footie ends, and after getting off (we're near Grand Bazaar) we have that steep hill going back down to Kumkapi - always feels a bit longer at night.