Tag: Istanbul

  • Istanbul, Turkey: in search of the city’s Roman past

    Istanbul, Turkey: in search of the city’s Roman past

    If you know where to look, Istanbul’s Roman past pokes up throughout the city, as Harry Mount discovers.

    The Haghia Sophia was Constantinople’s cathedral for more than a millennium Photo: Alamy

    By Harry Mount

    Exactly 1,700 years ago, in 312 AD, the Roman Emperor Constantine had a vision that changed the course of the Roman Empire – the world even – and ultimately turned Britain into a Christian country.

    The vision appeared to Constantine, just before the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. His adversary was Maxentius, a rival for the emperor’s crown. Looking above the heads of his marching soldiers, Constantine saw a burning cross of light over the sun, next to the Greek words, “Ev Toutw Nika” – “In this sign, you will conquer.” The following night, Christ appeared to Constantine in a dream, telling him to use the sign against his enemies.

    Constantine did as he was told. He stuck a cross on his army’s shields, won the battle, killed Maxentius, became undisputed Roman Emperor, and the rest is history – Christian history. From that point on, or so the legend goes, Constantine began his conversion to Christianity and, in time, the Roman Empire became a Christian Roman Empire.

    But the heart of Constantine’s new Christian Empire was not to be Rome, but the ancient Greek city of Byzantium. In 330AD, he made it the new imperial capital; in the same year, it was renamed Constantinople in his honour (and nicknamed “New Rome”). Along with the Roman imperial court, the senate and the supreme courts all moved to Constantinople from old Rome.

    It’s easy to forget all this when you arrive in modern Istanbul, its skyline dominated by minarets, your day punctuated by the muezzin’s call to prayer. But, if you look out for it, the city’s Roman skeleton pokes up through the Islamic skin all over the place. After all, the city remained Christian, and under the control of Constantine’s imperial descendants, for another 1,100 years after Constantine’s death. And it only became officially known as Istanbul as late as 1930.

    For those in search of Istanbul’s Roman bones, the first stop is Haghia Sophia, Constantinople’s cathedral for more than a millennium. Built by Constantius, Constantine’s son, in around 360 AD, it was burnt down, rebuilt in 415AD, burnt down again, and rebuilt by the Emperor Justinian in 532AD. It is largely Justinian’s building you see today.

    Converted into a mosque the day after Constantinople fell to Sultan Mehmet II in 1453, it was made into a secular museum by Ataturk in 1934. But, still, today, it smacks strongly of Byzantine Christianity in its domes and rounded arches – the Romans never cracked the pointed arch – in its cross plan, and in its glorious mosaics, restored in 1964 after being obscured by plaster and whitewash under the Ottomans.

    The new Muslim rulers were pretty laid-back about the Roman buildings they inherited. Rather than knocking them down, they just adapted them, inserting a mihrab (a niche pointing towards Mecca) and mimber (a pulpit) into Haghia Sophia to turn it into the mosque of Ayasofya.

    With some Roman buildings, they didn’t make any changes at all. Five minutes from Haghia Sophia is the Basilica Cistern, one of hundreds of underground caverns carved out by the Romans to store drinking water.

    For all its strategic waterside location – poised between the Bosphorus, the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmara – Constantinople was painfully short of natural springs. The Basilica Cistern, built by Justinian in 532, was the biggest and still – despite the queues, the dodgy music and a morose automated crocodile submerged in the underground lake – it overwhelms. Some 336 mammoth Corinthian columns carry delicate domes of slim Roman bricks arranged in a herringbone pattern.

    After the freakily well-preserved cistern, Constantine’s Hippodrome – just next door – needs some imagination to recall the Ben Hurs who gunned their chariots up and down this quarter-of-a-mile long racecourse. It’s now lined with tourist coaches and street hawkers selling corn on the cob, but you can still make out the old lines of the track.

    The Hippodrome was Roman Constantinople’s political arena, as well as a sporting one – it was where the new imperial capital was officially founded in 330AD. Constantine covered the spina – the raised terrace in the middle of the track – with statues, columns and obelisks from across the empire; as the 4th century scholar Jerome said, “Dedicatur Constantinopolis omnium urbium nuditate” – “Constantinople is dedicated by stripping all the other cities.”

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    Three of those monuments survive: an Egyptian obelisk, from 1500BC, a stone pillar raised by Constantine; and the distinctly odd Serpentine Column, brought from Delphi by Constantine. The three intertwining bronze snakes once supported a column in Delphi’s Temple of Apollo, one of the most important in ancient Greece.

    Compelling as these survivals are, they also compel mass crowds of tourists. Ten minutes’ walk west and you have Roman Constantinople to yourself – well, by yourself, I mean you’re the only foreigner among a crowd of locals. In the middle of Yeniceriler Caddesi, Istanbul’s high street, stands the forlorn Column of Constantine – now flanked by mosques, it was erected by the emperor at the city’s foundation. Passing shoppers barely give the dilapidated marble column, wrapped in protective iron hoops, a second glance.

    But the reason this is Istanbul’s Oxford Street is because it was Roman Constantinople’s Oxford Street, too – just down the street was the late 4th century Forum of the Emperor Theodosius, the biggest public square in Constantinople. The stumps of Theodosius’s columns survive, carved with an eastern-looking, sinuous peacock’s eyes.

    Walk five minutes north to Kalenderhane Camii mosque, and you walk back all those 1,700 years to Roman Constantinople. The mosque was originally the Church of the Theotokos, a late 12th century mini-Haghia Sophia, with that familiar combination of domes and rounded arches. The gentle janitor took my hand to show me round the mosque, empty but for two office workers on their lunchbreak, prostrating themselves towards Mecca.

    Outside the mosque, choked with undergrowth, are the ruins of a Roman bath, with a fallen Corinthian capital lying next to the old hypocaust heating system. The baths and mosque are squeezed up against a Roman aqueduct, built by Emperor Valens in 375 AD to fill one of those cisterns. The aqueduct runs for nearly half a mile, in very good condition, above the low-slung rooftops of Istanbul. If it was in London, we’d fence it off, and cover it with explanatory plaques and Keep Out signs. In Istanbul, they’ve built houses into the wall, piled their rubbish up against it, and even built a car park around it.

    The aqueduct is taken utterly for granted, with the heartening attitude that comes from regular exposure to great ancient treasures. Roman Constantinople isn’t a forgotten memory in modern Istanbul; it’s part of it.

    • Harry Mount stayed at the Four Seasons Bosphorus, double rooms from £280 per night, including tax (www.fourseasons.com/bosphorus). He flew from Heathrow to Istanbul with Turkish Airlines (turkishairlines.com), flights from £172, including tax.

    ISTANBUL BASICS

    Haghia Sophia Next to the Blue Mosque and Topkapi, the old Ottoman palace, in Sultanahmet, Haghia Sophia dominates the peninsula of old Istanbul, with fine views across the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmara. Be sure to stroll up the ancient, shallow ramp to get to the galleries where, at the far end, you’ll find mosaics that explicitly link Christ to the later Roman emperors. In one, the 11th century Emperor Constantius and the Empress Zoe sit either side of Christ. In the inscriptions, they are called “Constantine, in Christ, the Lord Autocrat, faithful Emperor of the Romans” and “Zoe, the most pious Augusta” – the supposed bloodline, going right back to Augustus, the first Roman Emperor, is crucial. Open 9.30-4.30, every day except Monday, admission 20TL.

    The Basilica Cistern Now called Yerebatan Saray. Open every day, 9am-5pm, entrance on Yerebatansaray Caddesi, admission 10TL.

    If you still haven’t had your fill of cisterns, you can have lunch in another one, just round the corner (Sarnic Restaurant, Sogukesme Sokagi, 34220 Sultanahmet, www.sarnicrestaurant.com).

    The Hippodrome Right next to the Basilica Cistern and Haghia Sophia. Always open, no entrance charge. Constantine’s walls along the Sea of Marmara, ten minutes’ walk south of the Hippodrome, were largely rebuilt in the ninth century. They are wrapped around the meagre remains of Constantine’s Great Palace of Byzantium, now reduced to a few marble window frames, a vaulted room and some 5th century BC column capitals incorporated into the Roman palace. Far more substantial Roman ruins survive further west, in the walls built by Emperor Theodosius II in the early 5th century. These moated double walls, with their 96 towers, were crucial in protecting Constantinople’s one landward side. They stood up to Attila the Hun, but couldn’t stop the Sultan on the last day of the Byzantine Empire – May 29th, 1453.

    The Column of Constantine Known locally as Cemberlitas (“the Hooped Column”), is on the corner of Yeniceriler Caddesi and Vezirhani Caddesi. Always open, no entrance charge.

    Kalenderhane Camii mosque, Kovacilar Caddesi, no entrance charge. The Byzantine marble walls, in swirling greens, reds and purples, survive; my janitor friend pointed to the small chapel where the earliest ever frescoes of St Francis of Assisi were painted in 1250, barely a quarter of a century after his death in 1226. The frescoes are in the Istanbul Archaeological Museum. You are now on the fringes of the Istanbul University campus. Any roadside cafe offers a good doner kebab or an Iskender kebab (in yoghurt and tomato sauce) for less than a fiver.

    The Aqueduct of Valens Runs parallel to Kovacilar Caddesi, no entrance charge. You can walk alongside it for most of its distance, and walk through one of its elegant arches, just by the Kalenderhane mosque.

    Our Istanbul Expert

    For more advice and information on visiting Istanbul, see our links below to our guide by our destination expert,Terry Richardson)

    haghia 2341654b

    https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/turkey/istanbul/articles/Istanbul-Turkey-in-search-of-the-citys-Roman-past/

  • Merhaba | Software Memories

    Merhaba | Software Memories

    Merhaba

    I’m in Istanbul, in the second part of a two-week vacation with Linda. Last week we stayed almost completely in the old city, with our hotel being just 3 blocks from the Gülhane tram stop. This week we’re in the new part, on a hillside between Taksim Square and Kabataş. For a variety of reasons, I haven’t been as diligent about email and so on as I usually am while on vacation, and I’ve been completely unavailable for any except the most utterly urgent phone calls, of which there thankfully have not been any. But this evening, while Linda watches Muhteşem Yüzyıl in the other room, I’m in the mood to write a bit of travelogue, and post it in what among other things has become the most personal of my blogs.

    Linda lived in Turkey for a while with her first husband, and speaks excellent Turkish. (In general, the Barlow women have an amazing talent for languages.)

    If you’ve never been to Istanbul, it must be seen to be believed. From a hills and water standpoint, imagine 10 San Franciscos, but with many of the buildings being 500+ years old. The whole thing is wrapped around the Bosphorus, in which at any moment you can see 2-3 tankers, a whole lot of commuter ferries, and generally more ship traffic than I imagine can be found in any other similar expanse of water in the world (the Panama Canal area perhaps excepted). And there are plenty of places from which to get awesome views, most notably on the water itself. If you’re ever in Istanbul, seize every pretext you can find to be out on the water.

    When it comes to great religious buildings, Istanbul may be my favorite city in the world, ahead of Rome, Paris, and even Kyoto. Reasons include:

    There are a lot of them here, since in the Ottoman Empire there weren’t many ways for the rich and powerful to use their wealth except by endowing buildings, most notably mosques (in particular, they could pass little wealth on to their heirs). The Ottomans built feverishly for about 400 years.

    Since Islam frowns on figurative art, the whole thing is very geometric, which I like.

    Mimar Sinan, the Ottoman analogue to Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci, got along fabulously with his patrons. (Suleiman the Magnificent called Sinan the only person who had “never disappointed” him.) Those patrons had much of the wealth of the Ottoman Empire to play with. Consequently, he had huge budgets and staff, and built many beautiful things.

    When the Turks conquered Constantinople, they found Hagia Sophia there, and developed much of their own style in mosques based on it. I think that style works beautifully on the outside of buildings just as on the inside, more than is the case for – for example – most Western cathedrals.

    Many of Istanbul’s great buildings can still be seen from the outside, at a distance, more than is the case in any other city I can think of. (The hills are a big help with that.)

    The standard list of “must-see” sights in Istanbul would probably start with:

    Hagia Sophia.

    The Blue Mosque.

    Topkapi Palace.

    They’re all great, but I’d put ahead of them:

    The Süleymaniye Mosque (by Sinan). To see why, just do a Google image search on its name.

    The Rüstem Pasha Mosque (also by Sinan). The big reason is the tiles, which – unlike in bigger mosques – are right in your face. Tiles are the greatest decoration in mosques, just as stained glass windows are in churches. I don’t find Rüstem Pasha quite as beautiful as Sainte-Chapelle in Paris – but the analogy isn’t far-fetched.

    There also are several very nice tiled pavilions in Topkapi, but I’d put the Rüstem Pasha Mosque well ahead of any one of them.

    Also on my mustn’t-miss list are:

    The final room in the Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum, aka the Ibrahim Pasa Palace. It’s a crafts museum, of course, since they didn’t have much figurative art in the Ottoman Empire. The final room has what must be the greatest collection of rugs in the world, many of them around 30 feet long. Don’t miss it, even if you only have 20 minutes to spend. It’s extremely close to the Blue Mosque, and hence to Hagia Sophia as well.

    The aforementioned boat ride(s).

    Topkapi Palace and the Blue Mosque.

    via Merhaba | Software Memories.

    more: http://www.softwarememories.com/2012/09/19/merhaba-2/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=merhaba-2

  • Deconstructed Istanbul like a page of a Klingon Book

    Deconstructed Istanbul like a page of a Klingon Book

    original

    New York City’s Blocks Arranged by Size

    Jesus Diaz

    French artist Armelle Caron had a very clever idea: take out all the elements from a city grid and line them up, sorted by size. The results are both intriguing and pretty. They also tells a lot about each city. Take New York above and compare it to Istanbul below:

    originalist

    Clearly, two entirely different civilizations and times. Istanbul deconstructed looks like a page of a Klingon book. New York is almost like a computer motherboard. [Armelle Caron via NPR]

    via New York City’s Blocks Arranged by Size.

  • A Cultural Revival in Istanbul

    A Cultural Revival in Istanbul

    City of the Senses

    A Cultural Revival in Istanbul

    East has always met West in this gorgeous, gritty city on the Bosphorus. But never as boisterously and creatively as now. Suzy Hansen watches the sparks fly

    Drinks on the terrace of Mikla, a restaurant in Tepebaşi—one of Beyoğlu’s happening neighborhoods—come with an eyeful of Sultanahmet and what used to be ancient Constantinople, across the Golden Horn.
    Suzy Hansen Julien Capmeil

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    One evening last May, around the time when evenings heat up and Turks spend all night outdoors, I went to an art opening at the new Egeran Galeri in Istanbul. Across the water from the gallery, Hagia Sophia, lit up like an aging movie star, gazed warily at this louche, noisy party in Karaköy, the brash ingenue of Istanbul’s neighborhoods. A hundred foreigners and Turks drinking wine in tall glasses had flooded around two DJs in the middle of the street. American conceptual artist Mel Bochner, whose work was on exhibit, sat on a couch bestowing kisses. Inside, his paintings—consisting of clusters of words, such as Blah Blah Blah—hung on white walls that led through huge glass doors and back outside.

    These days, Istanbul is no longer just the spot where Europe meets Asia; it is a creative mishmash of civilizations, eras, classes, and ways of life—as if someone had dribbled bits of Berlin and New York and Barcelona onto a seaside Islamic wonderland. Karaköy is one of a handful of neighborhoods that typify the new feeling. En route to the opening, walking through an architectural jumble that included a sixteenth-century mosque as well as Armenian and Greek churches hiding behind paint-patchy walls, I passed narghile hangouts where young people who smoke but don’t drink lounged on beanbag seating; bars where blond socialites, sprung from their Bosphorus mansions, sip cocktails next to tables of hipsters; heavily designed Austrian coffee shops that attract graphic artists on break; and the traditional drab concrete teahouses for male workers. When I later consulted the architectural critic Gökhan Karakuş about this dizzying, inclusive mix of design and society, he deadpanned, “Turks are good at aggregating.”

    I moved to Istanbul in 2007, and for the first three years, I went to Karaköy for only two reasons: to stuff my tourist friends with sweets from the baklava emporium Güllüoğlu and to cross the Bosphorus via the ferry at the Karaköy docks. Truth is, I was afraid of Karaköy’s weird little streets. Abandoned buildings sagged against one another for lack of love. Fishermen swung their hooks like lassos. Moody men smoked and stared or sold electrical supplies off horse carts. When news broke that a murderous Fascist gang with a female ringleader had been operating out of a Turkish Orthodox church—an unofficial religion with roots in nationalist ideology—I guessed that the church was in Karaköy. Karaköy was the rotting underbelly of a faded Constantinople, home to everything creepy and half-dead.

    I had an excuse for my ridiculousness: Turkish friends from the States—those who’d left Turkey decades ago—were appalled that I had even accepted the offer of a free place to stay in Beyoğlu, the district where Karaköy is located. In their childhood memories, Beyoğlu was a broken-down place where thieves, prostitutes, and drug dealers thrived, and where they never dared to go at night.

    But now artists and curators are flocking to Istanbul, drawn not necessarily by the quality and quantity of the work but by the city itself. These days, everyone wants to be here. They want to breathe in its special atmosphere—foreign and familiar, old-world and modern-world, Islamic and Mediterranean—as well as feel the thrum of creative ferment, the excitement of an ancient place that seems somehow fresh and new. But whenever I ask Turkish friends, “Hey, is there some sort of new Turkish style emerging?” they throw up their hands and scoff, “Oh, what do you mean by Turkish?” It is strange that in a country where Turkishness has always been so important, so many Turks are arguing about what Turkish even means.

    Istanbul is in the midst of a native culinary revival (lucky you!): Boats docked on the Golden Horn sell mouthwatering fish sandwiches for three dollars.

    Istanbul is huge, “bigger than the nation,” a friend once said. For decades, the most popular area for visitors was Sultanahmet, the neighborhood that is home to Hagia Sophia, Topkapı Palace, and Sultanahmet (a.k.a. the Blue Mosque). As Byzantium and then Constantinople, Sultanahmet was the center of Roman, Greek, and Ottoman life, where the sultan lived with his harem and governed his empire. Directly to the north of Sultanahmet, across a sliver of water called the Golden Horn, is what the Greeks named Pera, today known as Beyoğlu. First a colony of the Genoese—you can still climb up to the top of their fourteenth-century Galata Tower—and then of the Venetians, Pera evolved into the sophisticated European quarter of Constantinople. By the nineteenth century, this was where the Armenians, Greeks, Jews, and Italians lived; where you could walk into a café and hear seven different languages. Then came World War I, the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, the rise of the Turkish Republic, and the expulsion of anyone who wasn’t a Turk.

    In the 1920s and ’30s, Kemal Atatürk, the founder of the country, told his poor and traumatized people that the way forward was to be Western, modern, and secular. Subsequent leaders combined Atatürk’s nationalistic ideology with a statist economy, which had the effect of cutting Turkey off from the world. Everything was for Turkey, the state, and everyone had to be “Turkish” even if Kurdish or Bosnian. The elite shunned all things Islamic and turned their backs on their history (the Ottoman era) and culture (calligraphy, ornate architecture, the fez). The observant were left to practice Sunni Islam quietly in the countryside, far from the coastal cities where Western-oriented so-called White Turks aspired to high-rise apartments, American kitchens, and two-car garages.

    Then, over the last three decades, millions of rural Turks came to Istanbul from the east, looking for work and to escape the Turkish military’s war against the Kurds. They brought not only their loose scarves and tightly fitted coats, their mustaches, kilims, and clay cooking pots, but also the politician Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, an Islamic conservative. The election of this charismatic prime minister in 2002 made this strictly secular country more visibly religious as well as more democratic. He encouraged his pious constituents to be proud of their roots. “In this country, there is a segregation of Black Turks and White Turks,” Erdoğan once said. “Your brother Tayyip belongs to the Black Turks.”

    Above all, the pro-capitalist policies of the Erdoğan era made Turkey rich, and the country began to feel freer. Wealth was a more liberating force than religion was a repressive one. The devout crowds parading down Main Street made many secular Turks fear for their personal freedoms, but economic success entitled Erdoğan’s followers to feel like viziers. Newly rich covered women started covering themselves in Burberry. Girls in sleekly fitted head scarves rode bikes on the Princes’ Islands and held hands with boyfriends by the Bosphorus.

    At the same time, upper-class and educated Turks, instead of staying in New York or Boston, returned home. As the rest of the world cowered in a financial crisis, Turks reveled in their booming, globalizing economy. And all these Istanbulites, from the bankers to the bartenders, worked hard, more like New Yorkers than Europeans. They wanted better restaurants, more sophisticated bars, artistic and social freedom. Westerners followed. Istanbul “is incomplete,” one American architect now living here told me, “an open book.” Even the secularist kids, Turkish patriots to the core, embraced the swagger Erdoğan brought to the world stage and the pride he took in being Muslim, Ottoman, Anatolian. It was no longer a given that Istanbul creatives would look west for inspiration.

    There is no better place to revive cosmopolitanism than Beyoğlu, which, it should be said, houses less than two percent of the city’s fifteen million inhabitants. But this tiny area has transformed at lightning speed. If I go away for a week, I return to discover that my deli has become a secondhand-glasses shop, that the old-school one-oven bakery is now a high-end burger joint. I know that when I step inside one of the many beautiful Art Nouveau buildings, it will be newly renovated, with high-quality painted tile beneath my feet and recently uncovered hundred-year-old paintings on the wall.

    Many of these new places have a recognizable style. House Cafés, a popular restaurant chain; the pricey Witt Istanbul Hotel, in Cihangir; even the Turkish Airlines VIP lounge, all share the same look: large mirrors and heavy leather furniture, gorgeous light-wood tables and shiny-white wall tiles, huge windows and high ceilings which let in that resplendent Aegean sun. Gray-and-cream-patterned floor tiles are so common that I began to wonder if contractors were in thrall to some Gray-Patterned Floor Tile Mafia.

    cn image.size .view from mikla tepebasi beyoglu istanbul turkey

  • An Introduction to Istanbul — Old and New

    An Introduction to Istanbul — Old and New

    An Introduction to Istanbul — Old and New

    Posted by: Amy Lohmann Updated: September 16, 2012 – 1:32 PM

    Merhaba! Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Amy Lohmann and I’m a junior at St. Olaf College, which is located in the quaint Southeastern Minnesota town of Northfield. For the next few months I will be traveling as a part of the St. Olaf College program “Term in the Middle East,” where 16 of us will journey to Turkey, Morocco, Egypt and Israel.

    lohmanna 1347820305 IMG 0251

    Turkish flags strung alongside the houses on the Bosphorus Strait.

    Now, if this was a regular semester, I’m sure that at this moment I would be writing from the reference room of the Rolvaag library, clutching a gargantuan caffeinated beverage. As it so happens, I’m lounging in a Café on the streets of Istanbul (where I’ve been staying for the past three weeks), nibbling on chocolate and sipping a tiny Turkish coffee (or Turk Kahvesi). While certain elements of this scene are commonplace, the presence of caffeine for instance, the overall scene makes it clear that this is no ordinary school day.

    This dichotomy of the familiar tangling with the new seems like an apt metaphor for an American visiting Istanbul. At almost every turn you can see where the recognizable life of the West melds with the East, or where the traditional meets the modern. My memory floods with examples of these two worlds intermingling.

    Some examples are humorous; finding a Starbucks on every corner was a funny surprise, especially when the Seattle born brand is located next to historic mosques and other auspicious sites. Others seem more symbolic. Two women arm in arm on the beach of the Black Sea, one sporting a skimpy bikini, the other shrouded from headscarf to toe. A man clearing the dust from the entrance of a cell phone emporium with a broom made out of twigs.

    While I could write about a multitude of topics in an attempt to introduce Istanbul – among them the crazy transportation, the droves of stray cats and dogs, and the delicious çay

    served practically everywhere – this meeting of the old and the new, the familiar and the strange, has been impressed upon me with every passing day.

    Soon it will be out of the city and into the unknown as our group heads out on an excursion to explore cities and sites deep within Turkey. Look forward to pictures of Troy and a group yacht trip!

    via An Introduction to Istanbul — Old and New | StarTribune.com.

  • Istanbul – It’s Definitely Something Different

    Istanbul – It’s Definitely Something Different

    By Art Petrosemolo

    Tourists come to Turkey to visit the historic ruins, to cruise the Aegean Sea, to enjoy the beaches, or to see the remnants of the Ottoman Empire. Istanbul is usually part of the trip but may not be the focal point.

    For this traveler, it was Istanbul and Istanbul only. The historical sites along with the hustle and bustle of the bazaars and markets in this modern city where East meets West was always high on my bucket list.

    That itch got scratched this summer with six days in Istanbul primarily in the Old City. It was all that I expected, and more.

    My wife and I stayed in a small, boutique hotel (Levni) within easy walking distance (albeit uphill) of the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and the Grand Bazaar. Restaurants and shops were a stone’s throw from the hotel’s unique front and rear lobbies.

    We were six days on the ground in this Western-type city with a strong Muslim influence. Like any traveler these days, we spent weeks researching websites for tips, as well as Turkish tourist information sites, to be sure we knew what to see and what to expect on our visit.

    Turkey’s summer weather wasn’t a shock but that doesn’t mean 90-degree plus temperatures and high humidity are easy to endure. We did our touring and shopping in the morning and spent the hottest part of the day relaxing by the hotel’s indoor pool or taking a midday nap in the air conditioning.

    There was always a breeze on our July visit. It was noticeably cooler and bearable in the shade outdoors at lunch. By 6 p.m., the temperature drops just enough so the breeze makes dining al fresco a pleasure and most of the Istanbul restaurants we saw had accommodations for outdoor diners.

     

    Highlights and Tips:

     

    Getting There – Istanbul isn’t close. Your options for direct flights are best with Turkish Air, which recently started direct service from Dulles. Turkish Air – and Delta – also fly Istanbul nonstop from JFK. We flew British Air via London, which made the trip about 12 hours portal to portal.

     

    Hotel and Transportation – Choose your hotel carefully so you are central to what you wish to do. There are plenty of taxis in Istanbul but the traffic is maddening and it can take you, at times, much longer to get there by taxi than by walking or taking the efficient tram system.

    If you taxi  – and we did – be sure the driver resets the meter before you begin. Remind him. The starting meter should be 2.75 Turkish lira.

    We chose, with the help of a travel agent, the Levni, a small hotel on the edge of the old city. It provided a wonderful buffet breakfast daily and the restaurant is good if you decide to eat in. Hotel staff were warm and helpful. The room was small but clean, with a modern bathroom and air conditioning that worked well.

     

    Money – The American dollar was worth almost $1.80 Turkish lira on our visit, which was great. We changed our money ahead of the trip at a U.S. bank. You can exchange money at U.S. airports before departure.

    It did not seem as easy or at least it was not as obvious where to change currency in-country. Merchants took lira, credit cards, or U.S. currency. Travelers’ checks, once the staple of keeping your money safe, are rarely accepted. It appears the wave of the future will be debit cards in the currency of the country you visit, but in Turkey during the summer of 2012, debit cards were available only for pounds sterling.

     

    The dome of the Hagia Sophia – church, mosque and now museum.

    The Important Sights – The key ones are the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and the Ottomon palaces. You can do them all on your own but entrance lines can be daunting. We took a city tour on our arrival and a Bosphorus boat tour the last day. The tour expedites entry to sites and gives you lay of the land if you plan to return later on your vacation.

     

    Food and Water – Bottled water is the norm and everyone has it. Sometimes hotels transfer from large containers to smaller ones but in the restaurants you purchase water by the liter or half-liter and open the bottle yourself.

    The food is great with lots of fresh fish, vegetables, and fruit. Meat kabobs of beef, lamb, vegetables and rice are popular everywhere. Many restaurants post photos of what you are ordering. In small street cafes, you can even walk right up to the grill where the chef is cooking, point, and ask.

    Hamdi is a restaurant on the Sea of Marmara not to miss for its famous kabobs. Eating on the roof terrace with a view of the sea is a must, and we had to wait a day to reserve a table.

     

    Communication – Every­one speaks a little English and everyone wants to be helpful. Usually the hotels have people designated as “guest relations” and they are key in sorting through reservations and tours.

     

    What to Purchase – Everyone talks about buying Turkish carpet – handmade, double knots, natural dye, wool, and silk. But you know the saying, “there is no free lunch.” If you want good carpet – an investment – you need to do your research, know what you want to spend, and go for it. Many people sell carpet in Istanbul and you just aren’t sure if what you are looking at is machine-made in Pakistan with synthetic dye being passed off as authentic.

    Art Petrosemolo negotiating with one of the hundreds of T-shirt vendors in the Grand Bazaar.

    We wanted to purchase two, 5-by-7 carpets. We researched the dealers and spent a quiet afternoon as planned at a fourth-generation shop called Antique Carpet & Kilim in a very old building near the Grand Bazaar. Don’t look for its website; they don’t have one, but they do have 9,000 carpets on several floors.

    It takes time to purchase a carpet. They need to give you the spiel and it’s polite to listen. You need to drink tea, Coke, or water, which is tradition. Then they start literally throwing the carpets. In two hours, we saw nearly 100 carpets before we settled on a classic blue design and an exciting, modern Schehera­zade design of reds and blues. Antique and Kalim offered to ship the carpets to our home as part of the price but we chose to have them fold and wrap them so they fit nicely in our suitcases.

    The cost? It isn’t Costco so prepare to spend, as we did, more than $1,000 for each piece. We believe we got a fair deal.

    Something Different – Turkish baths (Hamami) have been part of Turkey for centuries. Men and women are in different parts of the facility, although one site now does co-ed Turkish baths.

    This wasn’t for my wife but I took the plunge, literally, for a 60-minute scrubbing and massage that was invigorating. They used soap and rough washcloths and rinsed in hot, warm, and cool water. The dead skin literally floated away. I’ll only ever have one Turkish bath but it is one I will never forget. The cost was under $100 U.S., including tips.

     

    Bargaining – If you aren’t prepared to bargain, you won’t be comfortable shopping at the bazaars and even at the high-end carpet dealers. Know what you want to spend and tell them. At the bazaars, I never started higher than 50 percent of the asking price. If we couldn’t meet at an agreed upon price, we walked away and didn’t look back when they chased us. Many times, the next shop will meet your price on the same goods.

    For me, one way I judge a trip is whether I’d go back again. Years ago, I loved Hong Kong so much that I went three years in succession and one of those trips was a long weekend.

    Istanbul may not be for everyone. It is as busy as London and Paris, and with traffic maybe worse (there are no stop signs in Istanbul). But if you enjoy nonstop activity in a truly unique city, where the U.S. dollar is worth more than the local currency and Westerners are welcome, it could be just your vacation.

    Yes, I’d go back and soon.