“To be frank, there are a fair number of cities which would be infinitely more welcoming had the cat population looked better loved. Kudos to Istanbul for setting the standard in this regard.” – Old Sean
The Inevitable Bustle
Despite recently enjoying an extended vacation in various corners of Italy, a minor attendance error from my job granted me an additional four days off in December.
I was very much in a use-it-or-lose-it situation with my vacation time, so I was forced to recalibrate somewhat and throw together another vacation after a mere five days of working.
The week leading up to this second vacation wasn’t frantic, exactly, but it was filled with a steady flow of chores and tasks I had no hope of finishing in time. There was work to catch up on, articles to write, interviews to respond to and other sorts of flim-flam to finish. But once I was reasonably ahead of things, I left work in a flurry to catch a flight to Istanbul.
Trodden Forays
Istanbul has a special place in my heart. It was the site of one of my very first international trips overseas, flying from Texas to Turkey during my sophomore year of university. The ancient city was the launching point for the rest of my journeys through Europe that year, which saw me joining friends in Turkey, Germany, France and the Netherlands.
That trip, taken nearly a decade ago, was a spectacular ramble of mistakes and travel hiccups. It was an expensive and unfocused journey.
During that adventure, I got lost in Istanbul and was fortunately rescued by a friend named Cihan. I took an impromptu and entirely empty flight to Germany where I spent time in Frankfurt, watching utter chaos unfold in the subsequent celebrations following Germany’s 2014 World Cup Victory. At this point, I was hit by a pair of enthusiastically thrown drinking mugs, not-quite drained of beer. I ran out of money due to a scam in Hamburg and busked using a harmonica for money until I could hitch a ride onwards.
In Amsterdam, I had no lodging to speak of and wandered around with a pair of Australians and a bottle of vodka until a few ravers offered us a place to sleep in exchange for shots.
I was forced at one point to dive onto a train to Rotterdam to meet with a friend who was passing along money to me.
I managed to get myself stranded in France at another point, briefly missing a friend on his way to Morocco. And later hours brought me back to Turkey, where I ran out of money, slept on a rooftop park, fell for a shoe shiner scam and finally made it to an airport for a long flight home.
Such days of overt poor travel decisions are behind me for the most part. But I still remember my colossal errors fondly.
Returning to Istanbul is a beautiful way to reminisce. I’ve returned to the city several times over the year, joyfully seeking out new nooks and enjoying older ones.
However, this trip was a wee bit different. I was joined on my trip by a friend named Jackie, who accompanied me on a dozen interconnected adventures through the city.
We ended up staying at a finely-appointed Airbnb north of Galata, tucked behind rows of colorfully painted apartments. From here, we had easy access to rail lines, ride services, tiny breakfast shops and delightful city overlooks. We landed in the dark of night, sleeping fairly early to try a compelling range of activities the following day.
By Kitten and Drizzle
The first day in Istanbul was a typical winter day in the region. Namely, it was cloudy with a slight chill and a never-abating mist moistening the air.
Jackie and I sought out breakfast first. We ended up at a tiny shop called Cafe Berry, which offered an excellent assortment of foods.
My personal favorite, which is a specialty in Turkey, is a dish called Manti. These are like tiny dumplings slathered in a white sauce and a variety of pleasantly mingling spices. I wolfed down a plate, pausing only to enjoy sparing sips of heavily sweetened Turkish tea.
Our meal was accented by the presence of a cat which luxuriously strolled in the door, lounged by the window and surveyed his entire shop. If there’s one thing I adore about Istanbul beyond anywhere else on the planet, it’s how they treat their cats. Kittens are always noticeably plump and well-groomed. Some stalk over for attention, but it’s not with the desperate longing of an abandoned animal. Rather, the casual greetings of a cat that knows pets are coming from somewhere, so why not you?
Cats would prove a constant theme for this trip. Jackie rightfully adores cats and the feline population of Istanbul made enormous strides in making us feel welcome. From beginning to end, kittens would be a constant backdrop and welcome sight interspacing moments of tourism.
It’s worth mentioning that the cats of Istanbul are properly treated to the nth degree. Many are often seen with a small notch in their ears. An ear notch is the universally recognized symbol of a cat who has been spayed or neutered and vaccinated. Eartipping is a standard part of most Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) programs, because it’s simply the best method to let everyone know at a glance that a cat has gone through a TNR program.
So, as readers go onwards, know that there are cats in practically every one of these scenes described. And they are loved and appreciated.
After finishing our breakfast, Jackie and I started our morning loop of the more touristic features of the country. This involved a short stop at an Italian coffee venue before we arrived at Çiçek Pasajı, a historic alley-arcade crammed with seating for restaurants. There was nobody dining this early in the morning, but it was a good area to recognize before wandering on.
The Grand Galata Rotation
Istanbul is surprisingly difficult to walk through. While navigation is fairly easy, parked cars, restaurant tables, stacked garbage, delivered goods and extended storefronts makes the sidewalk practically useless. Additionally, cars and motorbikes frequently rev through the city, making the streets unwalkable for moments at a time. As such, getting from place to place takes a bit of patience and a fair amount of urban awareness.
Jackie and I slowly worked our way through rainy streets, pausing frequently to point out more cats. We spent a lot of time on tourism-oriented streets, bracing against a steady drizzle. Our first stop, almost by accident, was Taksim Square. The numerous shopping roads we browsed inevitably brought us here, allowing us to view the famous area before angling back south.
My first desired tourism destination was the Museum of Innocence, a display made in response to the novel by Orhan Pamuk. The Museum of Innocence by author Orhan Pamuk followed the love story between a wealthy businessman and his poorer, distant relative. The museum that was made to reflect details of the book is a wonderful creation, showcasing everyday objects obsessively portrayed to showcase groundbreaking concepts of evolving romance.
The Museum of Innocence, which I visited in the distant past, is a worthy place to see. However, I’d forgotten that the museum only accepts cash and since Jackie hadn’t read the book, I wasn’t overly-motivated to hunt down an ATM, stomach withdraw fees and attempt a second walk-by. Instead, Jackie and I ducked into a variety of other antique shops selling strange oddities and made a morning of window-shopping instead.
After getting our fill of glass bird decorations, charmingly outdated clothes, impressive walls of posters and artfully dusted treasures, we wandered some more.
Our next stop was a favorite of Jackie’s. During previous visits to the city, she fell into a state of adoration with an eatery-cafe called Journey in the Çukurcuma District.
With warm sofas, quiet nooks, robust coffee and the low energy hum of folks working on personal projects in public, Journey proved a perfect respite from the rain. Fortified, Jackie and I continued walking, moving to other portions of the loop which would eventually bring us to Galata Tower.
Crash Said Reality
Jackie and I paused briefly during our rain-lit walk to pet more cats and enjoy commanding views at an overlook Google Maps titled Cihangir Merdivenleri. It was our first glimpse of the Marmara Sea, cloaked in strangely segmented layers of mist. Craftsmen Park and layers of Byzantine Ruins lingered below. The Nusretiye Mosque with a bright red Turkish flag held our eyes along the coast.
I wish to mention that Turkey has a lot of flags right now. Entire streets and roads are often dominated by the national symbol in the wind. As an American, I’m used to seeing patriotic displays, especially in flag form. But it’s worth mentioning that I generally get a wee bit uncomfortable after a certain flag-to-neighborhood threshold is passed. When flags become too prevalent and no national holiday is on the immediate horizon, it seems to me that nationalism has started thumping a swarthy chest.
Perhaps I’m wrong or my subconscious is alarmist. But the discomfort always nestles against me. I suspect I’m inherently suspicious of group identity, so perhaps my concerns can be dismissed breezily.
Regardless, what appeared next was harder to discount. Jackie and I walked through Tophane Parki where Palestinian flags were flickering in mist on every corner. A stone wall was covered in red-painted pacifiers. Graffiti condemning Israel as baby-killers was scattered throughout the park. This isn’t terribly far from the norm in this part of the world. The entire Middle East is growing tenser with every wave of news that emerges from the region, like a coiled spring being twisted tighter.
It’s odd to think how different the world will be by the time I leave this part of the world. I can see the foundations and wills shifting in real time.
Regardless, Jackie and I passed these demonstrations to reach the splendidly ornate Tophane Fountain, an Islamic washing station for the nearby mosque with a decorated roof and smooth marble features. Nearby rested the lush grounds of the Tophane Pavilion where ear-tagged dogs cheerfully gamboled after dark birds. From here, Jackie and I turned into the waterside neighborhood of Karaköy.
It’s Always Been Chocolate
Karaköy is a special neighborhood in Istanbul. It has gradually emerged as a de-facto nightlife district frequented by crowds of young people. There are numerous cafe options, hookah lounges, interesting restaurants, board game venues, pop-culture restaurants and more.
However, Jackie and I arrived for a very specific obsession of mine. Karaköy is home to a place known as Cafe Moon, which serves dense chocolate deserts and wholesome teas. There are numerous desert options in this neighborhood, such as Hane Çikolata & Kahve Karaköy and the Amelie-movie-themed restaurant Amelie Karaköy, but Cafe Moon is my favorite. Tiny, brick-walled, decorated in hanging lights and mounted rope-wheeled bikes, the tiny place makes me unreasonably cozy. The chocolate, which is dense and delightful, enhances most joys by exponents.
Following our mid-morning desert, Jackie and I stopped at Amelie Karaköy after passing lounging cats and hanging ivy ceilings outdoors. We also ducked into a pleasant mall where Jackie could indulge in her personal travel goal.
I heartily approve of travel goals. They give purpose to vacations far beyond wandering. In this case, Jackie’s desire was golden, quite literally. Jackie had brought numerous golden earrings from home in the hopes of exchanging them to match her evolving tastes in jewelry. Istanbul is famously accommodating to jewelry exchanges, so Jackie sought out as many gold shops as she could find, delighting in her discoveries.
I stood quietly in the corner and tried not to smudge any glass. The most expensive thing I owned on this trip was my new cell phone for photos. That was followed by my once-pricey boots, which were water-stained, worn and decidedly ragged after scuffing dirt in over 15 countries. Perceived wealth makes me feel clumsier the older I get. But it was still nice seeing Jackie having such a good time hunting for the pinnacle of jewelry while haggling freely with all salesfolk.
Torn Tower Top
After our walk around Karaköy was complete, early night was falling. Winter brought twilight to us swiftly and we started heading uphill once more. Jackie and I clambered up the Kamondo Stairs, slogging upwards at intervals. We stopped at tourism shops several times, mostly to catch our breath rather than seriously buy anything. Finally, however, we reached Galata.
It’s difficult to overstate how iconic Galata Tower is. When a person looks at its base, the tower isn’t terribly impressive. But it’s uniquely situated on a hill in a way that frames most of Istanbul. For a city with a skyline of lower buildings and interspaced mosques, Galata is a recognizable beacon. It braces against sunsets, sunrises and all manners of weather. The tower can be seen from anywhere on the Golden Horn and all along the Bosphorus. Visitors are given unmatched, gorgeous views overlooking the city.
Sadly, that last bit is only true while the tower is actually open. During this visit, extensive scaffolding on the roof indicated a certain amount of restoration was ongoing. It made the roof look almost glitchy in the distance.
Jackie and I weren’t in the area for Galata anyway. There was another feature far more dear to our hearts.
The Cat Museum Istanbul is a splendid little museum filled with a gallery of feline-inspired artwork. Several live cats also lounge freely around the museum space. This is a spectacular little museum filled with feline-inspired artworks. The museum, as the name implies, is dedicated to the cats of Istanbul.
Within, visitors can find humorous, unique cat drawings, a quaint coffee bar, smooth music on old-school speakers, walls of historic feline imagery and lovingly created cat-based products. Anything bought at the museum results in fifty percent of the funds going to cat rescue programs in Istanbul. There are plenty of ways to show support, including donations and purchases of clothing, sweaters and shirts.
There is also a wall filled with photos of cats seen throughout Istanbul in various states of feline existence. At the time of this writing, visiting the museum is free to enter. The entrance is easily recognizable thanks to a black-cat door with golden bars, but the actual walk-in point is behind a door to the immediate right. The gallery of artwork is downstairs. The museum is a splendid place to visit within easy walking distance of many of Istanbul’s most famed attractions.
Jackie and I enjoyed ourselves very much.
Light My Night
Afterwards visiting Galata and The Cat Museum, Jackie and I started walking back to our Airbnb. We moved rather slowly, moving along Galip Dede Cd. which was filled with interesting shops selling musical instruments. We stopped frequently for souvenirs. My favorite place by far was a rock shop called Paleo which sold a variety of minerals and bits of jewelry.
In some ways, I’m a bit glad that rocks weigh so much. It stops me from making impulse buys of every shiny stone I see. The ultimate way to ensure a person doesn’t buy unnecessary stuff is to remember you have to carry it everywhere across earth at some point.
Regardless, Jackie and I did a bit of extra shopping for shampoo, since our Airbnb was somewhat limited on that front. Afterwards, I steered Jackie to St. Anthony of Padua Church. I was distinctly looking for Christmas lights for December and figured a church was our best bet.
I wasn’t disappointed. Gates led into a small plaza space in front of St. Anthony of Padua Church. There, a narrow Christmas tree of bright lights towered over a manger scene, while further lights twinkled outside along İstiklal Caddesi.
Visiting churches has become something of a unique meditation for me after spending so long in the Middle East. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, most of the Islamic mosques I’ve seen have strong prohibitions against iconography and decorating buildings in such a way that would distract from communication with Allah. Christian churches take an entirely different approach, investing heavily in artwork of the highest beauty, hoping to evoke feelings of divine inspiration. Walking inside a European church is always a rather potent study in differences for me these days.
Regardless, Jackie and I exited the church for the night and wandered back to our lodgings to watch cartoons and haphazardly plan our next day in Istanbul.
Rain-Touched Snooze
By necessity, I’m going to end this post here. I have too many photos and events during my four day vacation, making this a multi-post article about Istanbul. While I generally like to keep my events condensed, I also need to be realistic about photo constraints and time spent writing nightly.
As such, tomorrow I’ll continue this tale, describing a day spent on the opposite side of the Golden Horn. Both Eminönü and Sultanahmet are on the metaphorical horizon.
So until then, it’s time to sleep-dream about breakfast, yawn drastically and enjoy a quiet evening in the ever-moving rain.
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written December 8th, 2023
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