24 Hours In Istanbul

We visited Istanbul ten years ago, and I didn’t enjoy it. Perhaps it was because I had the flu or because we stayed in poor accommodations, but the city left a bad impression on me.

Determined to give Istanbul another chance, we set off with a fresh perspective. After all, it’s one of the world’s ‘great cities,’ whatever that means.

We arrived on the YHT high-speed train, which terminates on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, far from the main attractions. To avoid the hassle of public transport, we decided to take a taxi to our hotel in Sultanahmet on the western side of the Bosphorus. However, no taxi would take us across, and while searching for one, a torrential downpour began, soaking us to the skin.

With our taxi plan thwarted, we resorted to public transportation—a train followed by a tram. Easier said than done in Istanbul. The train ride was manageable, but the tram station was chaotic with hundreds of people pushing and shoving. We struggled with the Istanbul Kart vending machines, which were only in Turkish, all while drenched from the rain.

My resolve to like Istanbul was dwindling.

We eventually decided to walk the 1.5 km to our hotel, up a steep hill, with full packs, in the rain, on slippery, crowded pavements. Halfway there, I had to stop for a drink and a sandwich before I collapsed.

Refueled, we made it to our hotel, a beautiful old Ottoman mansion with a room overlooking the Bay of Marmara.

That evening, the hotel owner recommended a nearby rooftop restaurant with views of the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace, and the Bosphorus. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and watched the sunset over Istanbul.

Okay, Istanbul, maybe you aren’t so bad after all.

With only 24 hours in the city before catching another night train to Sofia, Bulgaria, we decided to revisit the Grand Bazaar and Spice Market, which we had enjoyed previously.

The Grand Bazaar and Spice Market, once bustling trading hubs, now revealed only glimpses of their past with chai boys running tea to traders and food deliveries. However, the crowds were overwhelming, with people jostling for space in tiny alleys. The Spice Market had only a few actual spice stalls left, with most selling tourist trinkets, and the Grand Bazaar wasn’t as I remembered.

Hot, tired, and disheartened, we returned to the hotel and read until it was time to catch our train to Sofia. Turkish Rail had inconveniently placed the long-haul western-bound trains an hour from the city center, so we navigated peak-hour trams and trains to reach the western YHT terminal.

I came to Istanbul determined to find something I liked, and I tried, I really did, but Istanbul, I won’t be back.