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 |  | Travel Reviews : Istanbul |
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| | | | To the East, for a bath
From the Daily Mail
Marble floors. Stone basins. Copper bowls with beautiful Islamic designs. The drip and splash of water. Damp, pressing heat. And everywhere, steam, steam, steam.
All at once, out of the swirling mists of the Beldibi Hamam in Marmaris, Turkey, appeared an elderly man carrying a pink pillowcase. I eyed him warily from my position on a sopping marble plinth.
He had already loofahed me to the colour of a freshly cooked prawn, held out the grey twists of dead skin and said, unnecessarily: 'Dirty!' Then he dropped a bar of soap into the wet pillowcase, rubbed it vigorously, blew into it to produce a cotton balloon and used it to cover me in bubbles.
Afterwards, I sat swathed in white towels, thinking that it was like a soft, pink, girlie car wash. I've never forgotten it.
Purists of the Turkish bath (known as a hamam) will already be curling their lips, for the fact that he was a man reveals that I was in a tourist hamam, rather than in the authentic local version (where people go to get clean and have a good gossip).
In the latter, the sexes never, ever mix. The Marmaris hamam came early in my Turkish bath career; followed by one in Bodrum, in a domed building with sunlight pouring through a vent in the roof.
Then, in Istanbul, I discovered the magnificent twin baths - one side for men, one side for women, many of them famous architecturally - which dot the city.
The bathing experience is even more intense when you can step off the hot, busy streets of a huge metropolis and be steam-cleaned and on your way in an hour or two.
Their history is fascinating, too. Under the great Sultan Suleiman (1494 to 1566), water was piped to Istanbul all the way from the Belgrade Forest, which lies in the mountains to the north of the city, via aqueducts and vaulted tunnels.
The real thing reached Turkey via Rome and Byzantium, and fitted in perfectly with Islamic notions of cleanliness and propriety. In a proper hamam, men would never bathe naked.
Travel guide: Istanbul
From Russia with Rugs
From the Mail on Sunday
From Russia With Love is a satisfying film, especially if, like me, you have just got back from Istanbul, where most of the action takes place.
In his second outing as 007, Sean Connery, resplendent in tailored grey silk, zooms about Istanbul planning to bash up SPECTRE, sort out some tarra-diddle about encoding machines and simultaneously bonk a blonde double-agent dolly-bird.
I'm a little hazy on the plot because while I was watching the film at home with the children, I felt that although they had missed the trip to Turkey, they needn't miss out on my fascinating insights.
I kept interrupting the action with scintillating facts and they kept losing the plot. 'Look, that's the broken city wall below the Blue Mosque!' I announced. Or 'He's in the Grand Bazaar now. Your mother bought an embroidered sack for 50 quid up there.'
And a little while later I was able to tell them: 'Look, that's the palace on the banks of the Bosphorus that's now been turned into an expensive hotel where, interestingly, John F. Kennedy spent his honeymoon.'
The children finally lost patience: 'Shut up!' I was not deterred: 'There's Hagia Sophia! First built as a Christian church and only later converted to a mosque. You don't actually have to go on the guided tour as 007 is doing, and it was a lot more crowded.' My son screamed as I made him miss a really important bit in the story.
I thought the best thing is that a great chunk of the action is set in Constantine's underground cistern, a huge water tank filled with columns. James Bond's ally, the head of the Turkish secret police, has set up a submarine periscope which he pokes, apparently unnoticed, right up into the Russian Embassy's sitting room.
'Improbable, if you ask me,' I informed my reluctant audience. 'Yes, yes,' they groaned as one. '. . . because, in reality, there's a rather nice garden above it.' But perhaps not as improbable as the sonorous classical music and the restaurant perched on a platform in the middle of the subterranean pond that tempts the visitor today.
Travel guide: Istanbul
From Blue Mosque to blue jeans
Sucking on the hookah's long, curled pipe, I drew in the tobacco smoke, filtered through the water-bottle.
My tobacco was an aromatic cherry blend; sultans used to smoke a mixture of opium, perfume and crushed pearls.
Nearby, a couple of elderly Turks puffed away over a game of backgammon.
I was in Istanbul, or rather, underneath it - in the Cistern of 1,000 Columns, built in the 4th century by a Roman senator who accompanied Emperor Constantine into the already thriving city.
Bigger than a football pitch, its brick roof was held up by 264 (not 1,000) high marble columns, and the uplit vaults narrowed back into a distant darkness.
The whole area, cleared of 20ft of silt, was being turned into upmarket stalls and restaurants, but the huge space dampened sounds, and as I sat at my round brass table all I could hear was the soft sound of bubbling water.
There are three good reasons for visiting Istanbul as soon as you can. The first is that, according to seismologists on a recent Discovery Channel programme, the city could be destroyed at any moment by a super-earthquake.
The second is that Turkey is in the process of changing its laws and regulations to become compatible with the EU - something which could destroy Istanbul's 1,000-year balancing act between Europe and Asia. The third is that it remains just about the most breathtaking city in the world.
I hadn't been to Istanbul before. I was there for three days: I wanted to see everything. What was I to do?
With careful planning - some sights are closed on Mondays, others on Tuesdays - you can get to see most of what really matters.
The Topkapi Palace is the best place to begin, since it provides the most glittering context imaginable in which to learn something of the Ottoman past.
Travel guide: Istanbul
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| | | | Good starter bath
Women, on the other hand, are expected to be naked (though a tourist hamam will allow swimsuits - the steambath equivalent of eating a meal with a paper bag on your head).
Women are also expected to be scrubbed to within an inch of their lives.
A good starter bath in Istanbul is Cemberlitas, near the Grand Bazaar, which separates men and women and provides a fairly authentic experience, but still welcomes tourists blundering around in the steam.
How the female Cemberlitas attendants have been overlooked for a 007 movie, I don't know. They are muscular and confident, with industrial-sized swimsuits rolled down to the waist.
The terrified squeaks of tourists being shooed on to the massage tables are followed by awed silence as they realise they are in the hands of true professionals. I hate to think what the men are like.
Since Marmaris, I have tried Austrian, Korean, Iranian and Japanese public baths. I love the sense of anonymity, and the extraordinary clarity of thought that comes in the swirls of steam.
But without doubt, the Turkish bath is the most sensuous, the one most given over to pleasure. Some might say that it was this weakness that polished off the Ottoman Empire.
And if you think about it, all the empires which got into steam baths in a big way came to a sticky end. Roman. Byzantine. Hapsburg. Japanese. Er, ours.
That thought occurred to me while sitting in the steam room at my local gym, and I think it needs developing. Perhaps it's time to book another trip to Istanbul.
Across the Golden Horn
Of course, Istanbul now lacks some of the gritty mystery of the Cold War years. The seething nest of espionage has largely been replaced by a seething nest of matronly American tourists in comfortable shoes, but the city of the world's desire still practises its heady allure.
When I last went there, it was when I was 18 and in what is now called a gap year. I was working on the SS Uganda, part of P&O's old school cruises fleet, and we stayed everywhere for 16 hours: Kos, Rhodes, Tunisia, a brothel in Lisbon that we thought was a cafe. Nowhere hit like Istanbul.
I stood on the bridge across the Golden Horn, filling my own gaps with sensations. The squat, scary mystery of the New Mosque loomed behind me. The rush hour poured great masses of humanity through the city. 'This must be like Russia was,' I thought, ungrammatically. And it is; like a parallel universe. The alienating experience the traveller craves and the tourist misses.
In Istanbul everything is familiar but skewed. At 18, I avoided the sights completely. I never got further than the Grand Bazaar, and maybe not even there. I crossed the quays where Heath Robinson ferry boats nudge for places like piglets in a sow's litter, and climbed up into the grey labyrinth of the city, thronging, as medieval streets must have thronged, with a thousand-thousand market stalls.
Suddenly there is nothing but trousers - above, below, alongside you: jeans, kecks, drawers, pantaloons, in shops, like tunnels, threading into the buildings. Then, just as suddenly, a street of dishcloths or plastic toys or a million leather coats.
In the grand bazaar itself you can get tourists' rugs and new lamps for old, or old lamps posing as new, in fact. But I recommend that you skirt it and dive down the lanes that link it to the rest of this fascinating city. This time, my wife and I went as the markets were closing on a wet Sunday afternoon.
Stallholders wielded long poles to push up tarpaulins high above them, and we danced around unexpected waterfalls crashing into the streets. A gentle mist of steam rose from the baked pavement.
Around us were precarious electric signs and advertising hoardings, hung on the crumbling fabric of palaces a block long and seven storeys high, with corbel windows and huge, ancient wooden doors at street level.
And unlike so much of, say, North Africa, this is a city that goes about its own business. You will get hassled in the main tourist spots but elsewhere you can, and should, wander and ponder.
It had really been my intention to overcome the dismal failures of youth and get to the main sights this time.
Filigreed stonework
In the harem, its masterpiece (hire an audio-guide, because the guided tours are sometimes just in Turkish) the all-powerful Sultan had to wear silver sandals that clacked on the tiles, so that his mother could tell if he was seeing a concubine she had not authorised for him.
There are more than 2,300 mosques in Istanbul (not all that many for a city of 15 million people) but only three or four are completely unmissable.
Hagia Sofia was for 900 years the greatest church in Christendom, and after the Christians were overthrown in 1453, it became the greatest church in Islam, upon which all Turkish mosques were modelled.
Its central dome, unsupported to give the impression that it hung down from heaven, is of such engineering genius that no architect was capable of matching it until the modern era of steel girders and reinforced concrete.
The Blue Mosque and the Sulemaniye Mosque come close. Inside both, the space is awe-inspiring, their walls rising in domes and half-shells towards the central canopy, while light streams in from the windows to illuminate the brilliant blue Iznik tiles and the filigreed stonework.
My plan allowed most of a day for a ferry-ride up the Bosphorus. At three million lira, or £1.25, it must represent the best value for money in Europe.
And travelling up the western side of this narrow strait which separates Europe and Asia, past 19th century palaces, red-tiled consulates, old wooden mansions, villas on wooded hillsides, and the prestigious Bosphorus University where most of the teaching is in English, I felt at home.
Hawkers passed up and down the crowded benches, selling orange juice, apple tea, yoghurt, maps, postcards, watches and fake Lacoste shirts.
The skies became overcast. I got out at Sariyer and caught a bus back to Beyoglu, the shopping district on the north side of the Golden Horn.
The pound is worth three times as much against the Turkish lira as it was in 1999 - but of course the effect of that is only significant within the local economy.
Food, clothes, taxis and public transport cost very little: there is nowhere better than Istanbul for buying good shoes. The top hotels and restaurants are as pricey as anywhere in western Europe.
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| | | | Palace of the Sultans
We did the Blue Mosque and were horrified, disgusted even. First, at the implacable discourtesy of the majority of visitors who ignored the polite notices and photographed, chattered and videoed. And secondly, by the overpowering smell of feet.
Muslims wash before entering a mosque. Tourists simply remove their shoes and pad about, yelling at each other.
We did Sophia, an edifice hewn out of history. A church built in the dark ages that still rivals St Peter's and beats it hollow for mystery. I have never been in such a holy place. It emanates from the stone.
Mosaics from the Byzantine era have been left undisturbed, despite years of Islamic rule, and the Virgin Mary still glows out of her golden halo, testimony to the tolerance of the Ottomans.
In the time of Suleiman the Magnificent, the Greek church was encouraged to officiate its rites and Turks went to watch. The Hungarian ambassador claimed that many secretly baptised their children, just in case.
This Turkish pragmatism is reflected in Topkapi, the incomparable palace of the Sultans, built with the confidence of rulers who were, at the time of Elizabeth I, the supreme emperors of the world.
Later the same week, I happened to be in France, standing in the grandiose pomposity of Versailles' mammoth halls of mirrors, and compared it with the private kiosks and the intimate water gardens and sanctums of the sultans' palace. One designed for show and public trumpery, the other for discreet and private pleasure. If you should happen to become ruler of several million people, which you would rather have?
Conveniently, Istanbul's major tourist attractions are gathered in an enclave on the European side of the Golden Horn harbour. Doubly conveniently, so are the tourists that visit them.
Trebly conveniently, so rich, so profligate, so fruitful were the excesses of Ottoman invention and so limited the imagination of the typical visitor from Iowa that it is possible, with minimum effort, to get off the tourist trail to discover exquisite and unvisited treasures.
Off in the stables of the palace, there was an exhibition of the sultans' tents: just a few of their marquees taken out of storage and put on display. We braved a thunderstorm, running over drains gurgling with flood water, to take a look.
What a gorgeous treat. The court, lavish enough at home, spent half the year campaigning, and here were its temporary palaces, saffron-yellow-striped and pinnacled, exquisitely embroidered and ours, alone, for half an hour.
Even better were the Alexandrian sarcophagi in the sparsely attended Museum of Antiquities. Now that museums are applauded for the length of their queues, it is humbling to be left almost alone in the presence of stuff like this.
The tombs are impossible. Relief figures, horses, chariots, warriors burst from the sides of the catafalques. The edges are ridged with patterns as formal and repetitive as a machine.
The contrast between the two, and the knowledge that they were both dug out of rock, is gobsmacking. A solitary Dutchman walked in, looked unimpressed and left.
Sense of bustling prosperity
It may be because I visited Istanbul shortly after the Iraq war, and tourism had slumped, but as a western-looking tourist not travelling in a group I was besieged by carpet touts.
To stop and look at a map was an immediate giveaway. Within 10 seconds a salesman was at my shoulder, and with implacable politeness would show me the way, which always managed to lead past his cousin's carpet store.
They all spoke English and German: the aim is to keep conversation going until you are at the shop door. No excuses would do.
One tout offered me a girl sent to my hotel room ('very pretty, Turkish girls') but dropped the idea when I suggested this would leave me no money to buy one of his carpets. In the end I found the best ploy was to pretend to be French.
In the Grand Bazaar, shopkeepers are too busy to importune you. There are 4,000 shops, workshops, stalls and tea-houses in this great covered market, selling everything that can be sold, apart from animals.
Walking around central Istanbul is far safer than walking in central London where the penalties for muggers are less drastic.
The sense of bustling prosperity is everywhere. Old wooden houses from the Ottoman era are being carefully conserved.
Museums that have lain dormant for years are being spruced up and opened to the public. In Beyoglu, next to a street entirely given over to musical instrument shops, is an area called Tunel which was putting on its own arts festival.
Twenty-something girls in headscarves, wearing jeans and carrying mobile phones, were plastering modern art on Ottoman stone walls.
Yet there is a timelessness about the city in which ancient and modern co-exist. You can take a steambath in a hammam, or, like me, smoke a hookah, otherwise known as a nargile or water-pipe.
An age-old aid to meditation, nargiles used to be a fashionable accessory at Turkish salons. In a brass cylinder on top of an enamelled glass bottle filled with water, are placed two plugs of dark Iranian tobacco wrapped in silver foil. Two pieces of glowing oak charcoal are propped on top of them.
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| | | | Turkey's sensuous delights
There is actually a magazine - Cornucopia - dedicated to the sensuous delights of Turkey. It regularly features articles on Ottomania: the fabulous, rich clothes, the delicate food and - dread subject - the beautiful carpets.
I have an addiction. It sucks up money more quickly than any dealer in King's Cross. It gives you a quick thrill but leaves you depressed for days. I just cannot get enough carpet haggling.
Istanbul used to be useless. Ten years ago it was easier to score in London. But since the collapse of the Soviet Union and the economies of central Asia, Istanbul has again become the entrepot for all things knotted, woven and embroidered.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, I pity you! When I see a heap of carefully folded rugs, my heart starts pounding. My temples throb. I ache to hear the cliched spiel and squat amongst the musty smell for the rest of the afternoon. Yes, it's that bad.
I promised to limit myself. I once actually spent an entire night in a shop near Bodrum, and staggered into the dawn with a nasty blue and red Kilim and a stomach full of apple tea. The very notion of so many carpet shops in Istanbul began to make me feel faint.
'Just a quick look,' I promised. 'We won't actually sit down.' But, you see, once you're in, the system just works against you.
The first place we went to was dominated by a top salesman. He was enormously tall and dressed for a supporting part in a fairy tale, with a superb sideways sprouting beard and a funny hat, and he had this languid way of getting through his stacks that rather gave me the impression that he wasn't quite showing me the real goodies. So we went on. And on. Then we had supper . . . and came back.
And we went on. Then we went down a side street to a sort of superstore, where what we had already seen was multiplied by a hundred thousand. In the end I sat absently fingering an Uzbekistan flat weave. 'Right. Your best price?' He named a figure. I sighed and cautiously named another, somewhat lower, figure.
All the guides, the holiday programmes, the hotel brochures and the air stewardesses; all the books, pamphlets and 'rough', 'off-beat', and 'deserted planet' guides tell you to bargain. Knock 'em down. They love it.
Have these people, I wonder, ever gazed on the expression of complete contempt mingled with pity and weary exasperation that the mighty bearded one now assumed? Have they ever wasted hours in the company of a serious grown-up, heaving carpets, suzanis and saddle cloths out of enormous heaps and then offered to bargain? I think not. Much better just to get up and leave. Which I did.
This is kismet. He nodded mournfully and bade me farewell. 'Inshallah.'
Kebab and meatball restaurant
Taking a long, curled pipe, the smoker draws in the tobacco smoke filtered through the water, which is said to cleanse it of impurities.
The whole ritual, like a Japanese tea ceremony, induces a feeling of meditative tranquillity and camaraderie.
There are very good hotels in Istanbul at every price range. South of the Golden Horn, in Sultanahmet, is the elegant Four Seasons hotel, once an upmarket prison and now the height of luxury (doubles from about £220 a night).
In Sultanahmet is the new Ayasofia Pansiyonari (doubles from about £88 a night) - a row of a dozen painted wooden houses tucked away on a cobbled pedestrian-only street leading to the gate of the Topkapi Palace.
On my last night, I went with an old friend to the run-down Pera Palas Hotel, where Agatha Christie is supposed to have written Murder On The Orient Express.
At the bar we had raki - a grape spirit flavoured with aniseed which only a rash tourist will drink neat - and then went on to a superb kebab and meatball restaurant, Hamdi Et Lokantasi, with a view over the harbour of the Golden Horn.
I am already making lists of what I missed, for my next visit: St Saviour in Chora, with some of the most breathtaking Byzantine mosiacs and frescoes in the world and the Galata Tower with its unrivalled views over the Golden Horn, Yildiz Park and the palaces along the Bosphorus.
Three days? I should have taken a week.
TRAVEL DETAILS:
Christopher Hudson went to Istanbul with Simply Travel (tel: 020 8541 2200), flying with Turkish Airlines and staying at the Arena hotel in Sultanahmet.
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| | | | Museum of Turkish Life
I went up the street in this, the best carpet bazaar in Istanbul, to see if anything else might take my fancy. And would you believe it? There was quite a lot. So I never really saw anything else of Istanbul.
I tore myself away long enough to visit the disappointing carpet museum, full of enough ancient holey threads to make me doubt the authenticity of the 18th Century dating that the dealers use to categorise their dusty-looking rags.
And I wandered into the Museum of Turkish Life to get a look at a jolly interesting whole yurt, or nomad's tent, erected in a corner. But naturally in the end I went back to my bearded salesman and made him an offer he couldn't refuse - especially as it was almost exactly the price he'd asked for.
Alas for James Bond, he seemed to be far too busy to get any real enjoyment out of Istanbul. But at least his briefcase on the way home was only full of explosive shaving foam.
For myself, I wouldn't have had room for my Beretta. I staggered to the airport with my hand luggage stuffed with carpets, determined to get back to Istanbul as soon as possible. It's that sort of place.
Travel facts Details from Tapestry Holidays are available on 020 8235 7777 or visit www.tapestryholidays.com
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| | Destination Guide : Istanbul |
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| | | Europe meets the Middle East |  | Why go on holiday to Istanbul?
Straddling two continents and two cultures Istanbul has something for every interest - be it architecture, art, cuisine, history, nightlife, religion or shopping - and at bargain prices.
This teeming city merges familiar European sights, sounds and smells with unfamiliar, mysterious and exotic Middle Eastern culture. It's a great place to people watch, and an unforgettable, if hectic experience.
How much does it cost?
You can get bargain breaks but expect a four-night city-break in a four-star hotel to cost from £375 per person. Flights only from £200 return.
When should I go?
Spring and autumn, roughly from April to June and from September to October, when the climate is perfect (not too hot or too cold), are the best times to visit Istanbul.
During winter Istanbul freezes and it can be difficult to get around; during summer you will sizzle.
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| | | Chariot races and harems |  | What should I do when I'm there?
Sightsee, get lost in the Byzantine streets and alleys, go shopping in the markets, drink endless apple, mint or sage tea whilst learning to keyf (quietly relax).
You could ride the ferries to Asia across the Bosphorus, or take some long walks in the parks and countryside surrounding the urban sprawl, then have an invigorating Turkish bath to recover from it all.
What should I see?
All the main sights are in Sultanahmet, Old Istanbul. The Blue Mosque is named after the colour of its 21,000 tiles, which you can see illuminated during the son et lumiere show on summer nights.
The Aya Sophia mosque, built at the peak of the Byzantine empire has superb intricate mosaics. Next to the Aya Sophia are the Haseki Hurrem Hamami baths - they are open daily from 9.30am-5pm.
The Topkapi Palace is a must with its Imperial Treasury, harem and displays of priceless porcelain, silverware, crystal, calligraphy and armaments.
The Hippodrome dates back to 203AD (no, it is not a nightclub) and was used for chariot races. The Turkish & Islamic Arts Museum is housed in the former summer palace of Ibrahim Pasa.
What about markets and bazaars?
The Kapli Carsi (Grand Bazaar/Covered Market) is a huge medieval mall. Though now quite modernised, it's still fun to wander among the 65 streets and 4,400 shops.
The bazaar was divided during the time of Mehmet the Conqueror (1451-81) into areas selling specific products - jewellery, clothing, silverware, etc - so it's relatively easy to compare prices.
The Sahaflar Carsis sells secondhand books, and you can watch auctions at the Sandal Bedesteni at 1pm, or sip tea at the old Sark Kahvesi at the end of Feschiler Caddesi.
What about the islands?
The Kizil Adalar, or Princes' Islands, are close enough to Istanbul to be the traditional weekend getaway for the city's middle class.
Enjoy good beaches, open woodlands, romantic horse-drawn carriages and small villages with pretty houses complete with delicate ironwork balconies.
A trip to one of the nine islands allows you to have a city break and a bit of sun'n'sand as well - but if you are visiting in summer book in advance as the islands get very crowded.
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| | | Turkish delights | | Where's good for nightlife?
About the cheapest night-time activity is to take a Bosphorus ferry - a beautiful and romantic experience. Turks are enthusiastic folk music fans and there are concerts at the Cemal Resit Rey Konser Salonu.
Taksim and Beyoglu are home to the real Istanbul nightlife; Sultanahmet may feel a little too sanitised. Around Istiklal Caddesi, across the Golden Horn, you'll find numerous kinds of nightspots.
There are also many clubs along Imam Adnan Sokak; some offer live comedy, music and food. For Turko Pop go along Buyukparmakkapi Sokak; for wilder clubs visit Anadolu Sokak.
What's the food like?
If you thought it was all stringy kebabs and pitta breads, you're in for a big surprise. Turkish food is enormously varied. True, there's a lot of grilled meat - but it's delicious, lightly spiced, served with delicious flat breads and fresh tasty salads.
Fine rice dishes, filo-pastry pies and savoury pastries will astound with their mixture of richness and lightness. Raki will clear your palate in the early evening and Turkish wines are worth trying. End the meal with sweet pastries or Turkish delight.
Coffee is 'Turkish' - strong, black, short, and often spiced with cardamom. It should have a fluffy residue on top, and it is served with sugar.
What should I buy?
You'll find anything and everything here, including the ubiquitous Turkish carpets, knotted in silk, wool and mixed fibres. There are probably as many carpet shops as taxis.
The covered market in Beyazit and the Egyptian market in Eminonu are the first places you should visit. Pottery, brassware, leather goods, spices, dried fruit, tea-glasses, silverware and jewellery will leap out at you begging to be bought.
Expect a dizzying feast for your eyes and senses.
What is there for children to do?
The mysterious, eerie darkness of Yerebatan Saray in Sultanahmet Square usually fascinates kids. Another sure winner is the Military Museum, just north of Taksim Square, which includes lots of old swords and suits of armour.
Gulhane Parki has a small zoo, restaurants and amusements. Travelling around Istanbul should not be too much of a problem with kids - avoid rush hours though, when smaller children may be a bit scared of the crowds, and bigger kids might get lost in them.
Tourist office
Turkish Tourism & Information, 170 to 173 Piccadilly, 1st Floor, London, W1V 9DD. Tel. 020 7355 4207.
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| | Fact File : Istanbul |
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| | | Istanbul | | Did you know?
The letter 'C' is pronounced as the English 'J'. Worth remembering when you're trying to find your way back to the hotel.
Language
Turkish
Visas
You need to purchase a visa sticker on arrival at the airport. At time of writing, they cost £10 for up to three months.
Getting there
Fly from most major UK airports to Ataturk airport.
Flying time from London
Three hours 30 minutes
Getting around
The Istanbul bus system is good; you must have a ticket before boarding, and most shops sell them. Trains run to the ferry across the Golden Horn. Trams run between various parts of the city; tickets must be bought prior to boarding. The metro or Tunel climbs from Karakoy to Tunel Square and Istiklal Caddesi every 10-15 mins. Taxis should cost around £2 from Sultanahmet to Taksim. Watch out for the various taxi-scams.
Currency
Turkish Lira
Costs
Litre of petrol 60p; pint of beer £1.20; roll of film £2; moderate restaurant meal for two with wine £15; ten-minute taxi ride £2.50. All prices may vary.
Weather
Temperatures from January to March average 10C(50F), although it can be much colder. In April temperatures rise to 15C (60F). May is a pleasant 15-20C (57-68F), while temperatures soar between June and August to around 28C (84F). September to November resemble May, while December sees temperatures heading down towards the January averages.
Time difference
Two hours ahead of GMT
International dialling code from the UK
00 90, followed by 216 for Istanbul (Anatolia) or 212 for Istanbul (Thrace).
Voltage
220V AC, 50Hz. Adapters will be needed for UK appliances.
Opening hours
Turkey's end-of-the-week holiday is Sunday, unlike most Middle Eastern countries which close on Friday. Hours vary widely. Foreign exchange offices in Divan Yolu open 9am-9pm daily. The central post office on Yeni Posthane Caddesi is open from 8.30am-8pm daily.
Health - Before you go
No jabs required. The UK has no reciprocal health agreements with Turkey, so take out adequate insurance.
Health - When you are there
The Amerikan Admiral Bristol (Tel: 231 4050) at Guzelbhce Sokak, and the International (Tel: 663 3000) at Cinar Oteli Yani are suggested as they have English speaking doctors. Travellers may experience diarrhoea because of the change of diet and water.
Warnings
Drugging tourists' drinks to knock them out and then robbing them is increasingly common. Pickpockets operate in crowded areas. Do not use 'guides' who approach you in the street to take you to a pension or shop - they charge the business 50% commission, which is often passed on to you. Enter shops on your own, book your own tickets, and sign up for tours at the operator's office, not at the hotel. It is illegal to buy, sell, possess or export antiques. Penalties for breaking the law are severe and may include jail.
Emergency
Tourist Police (Tel: 527 4503) have experience dealing with foreigners and are likely to speak English or have access to translators. Regular Police - Tel 155. British Embassy, Ingiliz Baskonsoloslugu, Mesrutiyet Caddesi 34, Tepebasi, Beyoglu. Tel: 212 252 6436/244 7540.
Customs
Most Turks are friendly and charming - in fruit markets people often present you with stuff to try, as you marvel at the sun-ripe glory of it all. However, it is a very male-dominated country, and increasingly Islamic in culture. Skimpy clothing and 'open' behaviour are therefore unacceptable outside beach areas. Women have reported severe harassment whilst visiting Turkey and, sadly, this is not considered wrong - especially if you are a foreign woman wearing revealing clothes. Men should also follow conservative dress codes outside the coastal resorts.
Pets
Turkey is not part of the Passport for Pets Scheme, so any animal returning to the UK would be put into quarantine for six months.
Tipping
Some restaurants add 10%-15% to the bill, yet all expect a tip on top. Taxis expect only the standard fare.
Tourist office
Turkish Tourism & Information, 1st Floor, 170-173 Piccadilly, London, W1V 9DD. Tel: 020 7355 4207.
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| | Available rental properties in Istanbul |
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| |  | | Residence Sultanahmet
Beautiful house in historical part of town.4 floors , tastefully decorated with antique furniture , 4 large bedrooms each with luxury bathroom , sea view living room and panoramic roof terrace
|  | | Big and Luxury Flat In Eyup with a vast Garden
The flat nice furnitured lays in Eyüp, one historical Centers of Istanbul. The apartment has 2 Bed rooms, 1 Living room and 1 Siting rooms with fresh
|  | | Findik Alti
Appartement is located in old private house (only 5 appartments) in historical place of Istanbul. (it gives fantasic view on golf Golden Horn and the
|  | | Emirhan inn Apartment
Emirhan Apartment welcomes you with the comfort in your own home.
|  | | The Karamanyan, Heybeliada, The Princes Islands
Superb Istanbul Holiday Apartment in gorgeous seaside location. Amazing opportunity to stay in extraordinary, historical property in unusual, stunn
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Holiday Rentals in Istanbul |
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 |  | Culture and history (2) | | | Lively nightlife (2) | | | Exclusive (1) |
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Why Rent With Us
