Two weeks in Istanbul

I was reminded this week why I choose to live outside of the prime tourist locations in cities I visit.

Knowing very little about Istanbul when planning this trip, I booked a third-floor apartment in a colorful neighborhood called Balat in the Fatih district. It fronts a busy through street and a park that leads me on a walk of two minutes to the sublime waterfront of the Golden Horn.

The bustling, narrow streets of the neighborhood behind my new home are lined with a variety of small shops (antiques are popular), galleries, cafes and restaurants.

The populace consists largely of local descendants of various immigrant groups attracted to Istanbul over many years, as well as many cats and dogs. The people I’ve met have been friendly and accommodating.

I’m learning a little of the Turkish language but I am a long way from any kind of conversational skill. But with acting out, facial expression and Google Translate, I get by. Often there’s someone around who speaks English, especially among younger adults who’ve studied it in school.

Balat and the indistinguishable adjacent neighborhood of Fener, are exactly what I like for living in a foreign city, a place where I can learn about a local culture by immersion. Where, if you don’t get frustrated and upset by a lack of communication skills, and trust that a smile, humility and sense of humor help a lot, people are patient with you. You learn by your persistence in just being there every day. People begin to get used to seeing you and wave hello. 

Contrast that with the hustle and bustle of the tourist areas, where no one knows your name. On Monday I went to Sultanahmet, home of the famed Blue Mosque and Sofia Hagia. Nearby are the Grand Bazaar and other highly promoted tourist attractions.

I like to walk around to get a feel for a place before plunging in. But here, like so many tourist hotbeds, the hustlers kill the vibe. Touts pester and harass you like flies. They insist that you should go with them because they know the best way, the best price, because they are my friend and only want to help me, blah, blah, blah. If you tell them politely you are not interested, they persist. If you ignore them or act annoyed, they become offended, calling after you loudly as if, after all, they are your friend and why would you treat them like that.

I get so weary and annoyed by that kind of treatment, and it’s not just an Istanbul thing. Anyone who frequents the world’s top tourist attractions knows what I’m talking about.

The better alternative is a free walking tour, which you can find with a simple Google search in any city. They are unusually helpful and informative without the hype. They expect to be tipped at the end but there is no sales pitch and no requirement to pay anything. Some people stiff them and that’s their choice, but I am always happy to pay a fair market price for the value I received by the end of the “free” walking tour.

The guides are knowledgeable about the city and willing to answer all sorts of questions. Invariably, I also make new friends among fellow travelers in the tour group.

This time I took the wrong bus and arrived at the starting point for the tour a few minutes late. It was while I was walking around looking for the free walking tour in progress when I was most bothered by the touts. But after I found my tour, the guide graciously allowed me to join, and once again I found it a worthwhile experience.

Walking is my preferred way of exploring any city so after the three-hour tour, I started back by foot toward Balat. But I like traditional markets and since the Grand Bazaar was on the way, I thought I might as well check it out.

It’s said to be one of the largest and oldest covered markets in the world, dating back to 1455, and it was certainly grand with more than 4,000 shops among 61 covered streets. I’m not much of a shopper so I may not have given it a fair chance because I only went up and down a few of the covered streets and to me it all seemed like just a very crowded — up to 400,000 visitors a day! — modern-style mall, just housed in an old, historic building. That was a short visit.

On Tuesday I visited Taksim Square, another popular tourist attraction, by walking up a hill from the Galata Tower on Istiklal Street, another popular commercial district of modern shops, restaurants, familiar fast food joints and a Disney-like historic cable car running up and down the center of the street.

The square at the top is highlighted by the recently built Taksim Mosque, an immense art-deco styled mosque that took four years to build and was finally opened last month after years of legal and cultural disagreements. I don’t think many mosques employ the art deco look. Frankly, I didn’t notice that in the design.

Otherwise, it’s said you can buy any kind of souvenir of Istanbul you want at Taksim square. Not my style.

So I turned off Google maps, put my phone away, and beat it out of there on an unknown route around another part of the city for a while, getting lost in places where tourists don’t roam. My navigation skills told me just to work my way back on downhill streets since it was the ferry terminal on the Golden Horn where I wanted to be.

I still have several items on my Istanbul to-do list, including a Turkish bath. But I learned this morning from Mehmet, my hospitable Airbnb host, that the baths have been closed again due to another Covid-19 concern. Damn.

Some intriguing cemeteries are still on my list of places to see. No touts there. And tomorrow I’m taking a paid boat tour on the Bosphorus that crosses the strait for a look at the Asian side.