Istanbul

The courtyard of the New Mosque.

A few days off from cycling.

We’d decided to stay at ‘Cordial House’ hostel, as it offered ‘bicycle parking’ – we thought maybe they were used to cycle tourists, those ending their trips in Istanbul or just passing through on their way to Asia and beyond. But it turned out this advertised ‘bicycle parking’ just meant they’d let you take your bike up three floors in their tiny lift, carry it up a further flight of stairs, stow it on the roof, and charge you five lira a day for the ‘service’. We also had the misfortune to be sharing a room with a monstrously loud snorer. But hostel aside, we had a lovely few days in Istanbul.

Blue Mosque

The bakery next door always had a queue out to the street for its fresh burek, which we bought for breakfast, and ate sitting in the sunshine across from the Blue Mosque. The docile stray dogs slumbered on the grass, and everywhere there were motley gangs of cats.

The New Mosque.

We spotted Richard Ayoade in the bazaar. He had a small film crew with him, but he just seemed to browsing hammam towels. If I hadn’t been on a cycle trip, I’d definitely have bought a few copper coffee pots, jewel-coloured tea glasses, pointed slippers, and whatever else I could fit in my suitcase. We spent quite a long time wandering around the newer shops outside the Grand Bazaar, which sold all kinds of homeware, haberdashery, shoes, hosiery, and these trousers:

Steve has become an accidental Galatasaray fan.

While Steve was in the changing rooms, an old man selling roasted peanuts from a little wagon stopped outside. He gave a handful of nuts to me and the shop assistant; Steve came out to find us nibbling companionably. This kind of thing happens quite a lot. A few times when we’ve stopped at petrol stations, Steve’s come back from the shop or the bathroom to find me sitting down with a hot drink that I’ve been offered in his absence. I don’t do it on purpose…

Chestnuts for sale.

There was a also a good self-service canteen restaurant (somewhere near the bazaar) where we had a huge, tasty and very cheap lunch – including a delicious aubergine stew and fırın sütlaç (fluffy baked rice pudding). We’ve had some great meals at these kinds of places; we don’t always know what we’re getting, but its always very good value, often with tea and bread thrown in. Cyclists should look out for these on the road, as two people can enjoy a hearty lunch for around £5.

Canteen food near Izmir.

We wandered over to Eminönü on the western side of the Galata bridge; from the brightly painted boats which bob in the river swell, you can buy balık ekmek – sandwiches of freshly caught fried fish with lettuce, onion and lemon juice for about 6 lira (£1.70). The bridge was always lined with men fishing, packed along by the railings and selling their small catches, floats and bait.

Balık boat.

In Taksim square there were crowds of riot police at every corner. The night before had seen thousands gather in the city to protest the Israeli incursion of the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem. There were crumpled posters and trampled placards at the sides of the pavement, but that afternoon everything was calm. Tea-sellers wheeled trollies around the square with hot water canisters and packets of Nescafe. We were never far from a cup of tea in Istanbul.

Alman Çeşmesi, the German Fountain.

We didn’t visit the Blue Mosque as the queues were so long, but visited the New Mosque twice. On Fridays, only the courtyard is open to visitors; we sat for quite a long time watching people come and go, men washing at the central fountain, tourists posing slightly inappropriately for photographs, and the call to prayer was especially long and almost overwhelmingly loud from inside the walls. I loved the windows around the courtyard made from circles of plain glass, thick and bubbled like the bases of antique bottles, and the beautiful blue painted tiles.

A couple of times, we visited Çorlulu Ali Paşa Medresesi, a tea and shisha (nargile) garden tucked away in a courtyard, next to a mosque, through an archway near the Grand Bazaar. It was always busy but very relaxed, with students reading books and drinking tea, groups of businessmen spending hours over water pipes and calm conversation, young people sitting in clouds of smoke, and tourists like us, taking it all in under the coloured lanterns. We tried all their teas and shared an apple pipe before heading out for the evening. After dark the Hippodrome was surrounded by the illuminated mosques, the colourfully lit fountains and the glow and smoke from the roast chestnut wagons.

After a few days in Istanbul it was time to head east again. We suffered the usual apprehension of packing up and wheeling out through the chaos of a big city, but once at the ferry port with our tickets bought (and a second breakfast), any negative feelings were replaced with excitement at heading into Turkey’s central steppe.

Istanbul by night.