Istanbul: A Turkish Delight | Day Two

More than 20,000 handcrafted tiles cover the interior of the Blue Mosque—officially known as the Sultan Ahmed Mosque—a staggering number put in beautiful perspective the moment you step inside this 16th century dome of worship. Before entering, everyone must remove their shoes and place them in provided plastic bags and then ensure no skin is being revealed. Accustom to the constant flow of tourists, the Blue Mosques offers scarves for women to cover up with (even if you’re in tights, they’ll ask you to utilize the scarf). Stick with flip flops in the summer and remember socks and slip-on shoes in the winter for easy in and out access. 

It was a quiet self-guided tour along the prayer area, as we just gawked up at the detailed ceiling and took note of a few men praying. This was the first mosque I’d ever stepped bare foot in, and it was a wonderful one to start off with. Perhaps more impressive than even the interior is the massive courtyard, multiple minarets, and one of several domes seen in every cityscape shot of Istanbul.  

Another oft photographed dome is just up the street. Opposite the Blue Mosque is the Hagia Sophia (Turkish Ayasofya), a church turned mosque turned museum built in 537. This massive structure (the fourth largest cathedral worldwide) is vastly complex, with intricate details and mosaics that seem to go on for miles. The 20 lira entrance fee is money well spent just to have the honor of standing in this building—one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen—as it’s like a golden palace, adorned with surreal floating lights that hang from the massive ceiling. If you do nothing else in Istanbul, visit the Hagia Sophia. 

 

In the same area, just 500 feet below, lies the Basilica Cistern. The ancient waterway system is worth a gander for the 10 lira entrance fee, particularly to see the mysterious, inverted Medusa heads. No one knows how they arrived at the cistern, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be the person to discover them. It’s really a quick tour around this structure and you’ll be surrounded by people, but keep your camera on night vision and you’ll get some interesting shots. 

Following the tram tracks towards the Galata Bridge, we were on a mission for baklava. Here’s a tip: travel with a map reader, it does wonders for trying to find specific locations (something we struggled with thanks to poor numbering systems and a certain lack of street signs…but at least with Sarah at the map’s helm we had a fighting chance). Crossing the bridge over the Golden Horn, an inlet of the Bosphorus dividing the city, was smile-inducing and a perfect place to take in the magnitude of Istanbul. Fishing poles balanced on the side of the bridge, as fishermen were all at work, most likely gathering the night’s main courses for the restaurants below the bridge.

 

On the other side, we ventured through some busy neighborhoods and stumbled upon our intended destination: Güllüoğlu Baklava Palace. Featured in the New York Times Frugal Traveler, this divine little find was worthy of the trek: more than a dozen varieties of the sinfully sweet layers of honey, pistachios, and phyllo dough were encased in glass. The ordering process was tricky, but we pointed to our selections, had them weighed, devoured every morsel, and then paid the man at the front. Newly rejuvenated by the sugar rush, we sloshed through an impromptu rain shower to the Istanbul Modern. Contrary to what the Lonely Planet tells you, this museum is not free on Thursdays unless you’re a resident of Turkey. Considering I could barely say please and thank you in the native tongue, I couldn't pass as a local. Thanks, LP.

 

That evening we were hoping to double-down on our culinary luck and locate a cheap, but well-reviewed restaurant in the Sultanahmet district named Doy Doy. Excitement soon gave way to frustration however, as we wandered hopelessly by all the touristy restaurants to no avail. We finally gave into a fairly unassuming restaurant that had nearly a dozen waiters scurrying around in black bowties. When presented with the menu, we were surprised to see merely two viable items: meatballs (köfte) and salad. Deciding to make this stop an appetizer and not the whole meal, we split a köfte plate and took off. Later we discovered that we had happened upon an incredibly popular eatery for locals that’s renowned for its small menu and barren interior. Tarihi Sultanahmet Köftecisi is allegedly an Istanbul institution since 1920 (and has a great website, check it out!). But that night, it was just the precursor to an even better meal at House of Medusa.

Still in wander mode, we read menus up and down the street until we found a neat garden restaurant with decent prices and nobody outside trying to sell to us. A sign boasted a review from the New York Times and that was the only stamp of approval we needed to give this place a chance. Sitting in a nice upstairs alcove with attentive service, Sarah had aubergine with minced meat and I enjoyed a deliciously savory pasta with cheese, cream, and walnuts. Coming in around 50 lira for the whole meal, House of Medusa was a charming spot and fabulous experience.

The day had been full of adventure and somewhat sensory overload…exquisite mosques, delicious food, and the sights of a brand new city that was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Strolling through Istanbul back to our hotel that evening, we took in the sight of the Blue Mosque and couldn’t help but feel pleased with our day and decision to visit this exotic land. 

Continue to Day Three...