Originally Published in Time Out Istanbul magazine, 2004
With a chill in the air, warm up to the city’s top attractions. Winter is the season to see Istanbul up close and personal.
By Aubree Caunter
Sightseeing in winter can be a whine-inducing proposition: it’s cold, wet and all-together miserable outside. In weather like this, venturing out of doors seems foolhardy.
But, with the frigid temperatures discouraging all but the most diehard travelers, now is the time to get a front-row seat to Istanbul’s most popular sights. When else will you get a private audience with Medusa’s Head in the Basilica Cistern or a no-queue entrance to the Harem in Topkapı Palace?
Be aware that winter sightseeing does require special organizational consideration. You’ll want to choose indoor locations grouped closely together, move quickly from one sight to another and minimize soggy door-to-door sprinting.
With these rules in mind, I set out one morning to offer an itinerary – and hopefully some inspiration – for a daylong, icy-weather foray into historic Istanbul.
08:30 – The Game Plan
My mother was a stickler for efficiency, especially when running errands around town. Her steadfast rule: no backtracking. I am even more neurotic when it comes to touring. When I get out my guidebook, I set a course that lays my destinations in the most direct possible path, with no overlapping routes.
This day, which dawned see-your-breath cold, there are two choices of where to begin: in the Bazaar Quarter heading northeast or in Seraglio Point heading southwest. Either way leads from one major historical site to another in quick succession, reducing exposure to the elements.
Since the sky is overcast but not yet raining, I opt to begin at Topkapı Palace (Topkapı Sarayı) in Seraglio Point where the grounds require some outdoor touring.
09:30 – Topkapı Palace
I am only one of two people awaiting the opening of the main doors. Right away, here is a benefit of winter sightseeing: having a magnificent palace like Topkapı practically all to yourself.
Sultan Mehmet II “The Conqueror” built Topkapı, the centuries-long government seat beginning in the mid-1400s, as a series of pavilions linked by four enormous courtyards, an architectural mirror of the tented camps from which the Ottomans rose. The result makes for a sprawling campus with countless nooks and crannies, chock full with priceless artifacts.
I head down one of the second courtyard’s paths (the first courtyard is outside the main gate where you can find the Byzantine church of Haghia Eirene and the Imperial Mint) to the kitchens which are stocked with Oriental bowls and urns brought to Turkey via the Silk Road. This long series of rooms also is home to the Imperial costumes and treasury, which I skip in the interest of time to explore the fourth courtyard with its magnificent view of the Sea of Marmara as it narrows to the Bosphorus.
Walking the gardens alone, wind coming fast off the water and gray skies threatening, Topkapı is the antithesis of its summer personality which is green and full of life. In winter, the palace is intimate, drawing itself in, leaving visitors to ponder the intricacies of daily Constantinople life. It is far easier to pretend you’re the Sultan, taking stock of your lands and lieges, when you stand quietly in the doorway of the Baghdad Pavilion than if you had to fight the fair-weather hordes with their maps and flashy cameras.
Invigorated, I join the half-hour guided tour of the harem rooms. Another bonus for winter touring: dawdling in the courtyards might have prevented me from seeing the harem in the summer when tours are often booked up quickly.
Note: Though I didn’t visit this day, the Archaeological Museum, which contains one of the world’s best collections of classical artifacts, is also on the same campus, just a short walk outside the main gates. With works spanning more than 5,000 years, the museum is a trove of antiquities. A Children’s Museum caters to youngsters while the permanent exhibit Istanbul Through the Ages sheds light on the city’s storied history.
11:30 – Haghia Sophia
Out the Imperial Gate toward Sultanahmet Square, I find Haghia Sophia (Aya Sofya), and with only five minutes’ walking in the now-rainy day, I am back inside the cozy warmth of an another architectural miracle.
For almost a thousand years, the Haghia Sophia was the physical symbol of Byzantium’s might and until the 16th century was the largest Christian church in the world. So powerful an icon, it was the first place the aforementioned Mehmet II visited after he conquered the city in 1453, when it was converted to a mosque. In 1935, Atatürk decreed that the site morph once again, into its current incarnation, a museum.
The first tour groups of the day are starting to line up just inside the main entrance, but they are few and sparsely occupied. A lone guide with two Spanish tourists pass through the Imperial Gate (same name as that which leads out of Topkapı, but here dedicated to the emperors who were the only worshipers allowed through its immense doors).
Again, I am nearly alone as I pass into the nave. Good thing, too, because as I stand with my head back gazing at the 56 meter dome, I walk slowly backwards marveling as one massive mosaic after another floats into view. Eyes still skyward, I skim off the velvet ropes that mark the Coronation Square, the crowning spot for emperors, before grazing the Spanish couple. If I were surrounded by more tourists, I wouldn’t have the luxury of staring at the ceiling, unaware of floor-level obstacles. Or, at the very least, I would do far more damage to strangers’ toes as I clod on them getting a better look at those calligraphic roundels.
The upper gallery is accessed by a well-worn, low-ceilinged stone ramp (resembling no less than the entrance to every vampire’s lair I’ve ever seen in the movies). I climb it and find a slanted winter sun passing through the frosted windows onto the yellow-painted ceilings. A student sketches in the far corner of the gallery, just above the sultan’s loge, while the few people whisper in awe.
In summer heat, tourists are driven into these dark places for relief and the whole building echoes with laughter from traveling school children. Now, Haghia Sophia is the restful place that shelters visitors in its serene space.
12:30 – Blue Mosque
Crossing Ayasofya Meydanı to the Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Camii), I am asked by only two people if I would like to buy postcards or have a guided tour. Benefit No. 3 of winter trekking: if you’re not in the mood to be approached by street vendors, there are less on the prowl during foul weather.
Worshipers are washing their feet at the taps outside the mosque as I scurry up the stairs to the inviting courtyard. Quickly I remove my shoes (a helpful guide is there to hand visitors a bag to carry them with you) and move my neck scarf to cover my hair.
Inside, more than 250 windows flood the vast space with pale light. The dome floats on the İznik tile-adorned walls while the successive semi-domes dance downward and tease visitors with their mystic ability to stay afloat. Commissioned by Sultan Ahmet I and completed in 1617, it remains one of the world’s finest examples of classical Ottoman architecture.
13:00 – Hippodrome
Here’s one thing not to see when touring Istanbul’s great sites in the winter: the Hippodrome.
While in the summer the park is green and flowered, in the winter what is left of this 3rd century AD public square (which was subsequently enlarged by Emperor Constantine to house a stadium for 100,000 people) is mostly fallow gardens and sand bags.
The Egyptian Obelisk, Serpentine Column and Column of Constantine are spectacular. But you will never get an inkling of their former grandeur while standing ankle-deep in mud.
13:30 – Lunch
This neighborhood is rife with cafes, so I break for lunch with a hot cup of tea (çay) and savory pie (börek) filled with spinach and minced lamb.
14:00 – Basilica Cistern
From the Hippodrome area, I head back (though, I promise Mom, not retracing my steps) two blocks to a small street just off Sultanahmet Square. There, I follow the stairs down to the Basilica Cistern (Yerebatan Sarayı), surely one of the most unusual tourist attractions in Istanbul, no matter what the season. In winter, though, the cavernous subterranean hall feels like a secret.
Empty, save for one British couple touring sans camera and drifting wordlessly from one pillar to the next, the cistern is ghostly without guests. The back walls disappear into nothingness. The sound of water mixes with the piped-in classical music and the suspended walkways lead weaving paths through the 336 Corinthian columns.
Without the din of crowds, I am able to view and savor the famous Medusa heads with no interruption. I am left alone to wonder if, as legend goes, the Byzantines plundered these statues and placed them here as a shrine to water nymphs.
It is so quiet that I understand now – as I was unable to before – why this vast room could have been left undiscovered for so many years by the Ottomans, who only were alerted to its whereabouts by local residents who lowered buckets through holes in their basements to gather the fresh water.
15:00 – Grand Bazaar
Finally, the cold-weather destination to top all cold-weather destinations: the Grand Bazaar (Kapalı Çarşı).
No matter the time of year, the Grand Bazaar is packed, so touting the ability to shop without interruption would be a fib, but really, there’s nothing like ending a long day of sprinting through sleet to arrive in the warm streets of this covered marketplace.
If you’re a frequent visitor or first-time guest, the glow of neighborhood vendors calling you inside for an afternoon tea is like an elixir. I settle down in a carpet shop for a deserved break.
