Returning to Istanbul Seven Years Later Only Confirmed What I’d Known All Along

In a previous life, before I became a writer, I still travelled the world. China, Korea, Hong Kong, Turkey, Italy, France and other places I can barely remember. I was in the cut-throat business of women’s fashion; I’d turn up with a buying team, stick to a schedule like glue and leave with the results I’d meticulously planned to achieve.

Explore spice markets, haggle in the Grand Bazaar and peek inside the Blue Mosque with Culture Trip’s International Istanbul trip

On one such trip to Istanbul I was invited to a Michelin-esque restaurant on the European side of the city. “The best seafood,” I was told. When I arrived, I noticed that the tables were perfectly laid, the terrace looked out to the Bosphorus and the waiters had movie star good looks. As I hot-footed it through the restaurant in my high heels, the sound of cutlery clinking echoed around me in symphony, and the murmur of excited human chatter sounded like birdsong. My host waved at me from a table at the edge of the water. As I sat down, I felt an overwhelming emotion I didn’t understand. I buried it quickly to drive forward what was still a working dinner. Long after I left Istanbul I carried that feeling around with me, always trading it in for getting the job done. I’d have intrusive flashbacks of it at random moments. It would take me several more years to understand that the feeling I had buried, was my calling to a different life.

Almost seven years to the date since my epiphany, an invitation to visit Shangri-La Bosphorus arrived in my inbox. I was to travel from Heathrow on Turkish Airlines, and spend a long weekend exploring Istanbul. I decided that the time was right for my return to the city.

I arrived at Shangri-La Bosphorus after sunset. It was hard to imagine that this breathtakingly beautiful hotel, which now wows visitors from around the globe, was a humble tobacco warehouse in the 1930s. It sits on the edge of the Bosphorus facing the Asian coastline. After a quick change and a dinner of beautifully crafted sushi at the hotel’s IST TOO terrace cafe, I could all but run upstairs to dote on the view from my room. I watched, mesmerised, as the lights twinkled, ferries pulled in and crowds dispersed in waves, over and over again, like the sea returning, time after time, to touch the beach. I could hardly believe that I was finally here to see Istanbul.

I wanted to do all the things I’d not had a chance to do before, starting with a breakfast cruise. At 7am, the following morning, a magnificent yacht pulled in to the Art Deco terminal opposite the hotel and carried us along the strait, past the Bosphorus Bridge, mosques and private houses. “The red houses used to belong to government officials,” said the host. “What about that building over there with the big roof,” I asked. “Oh, that’s the elephant house,” came the answer. It turns out that India and Iran gifted elephants to the Ottoman Sultans. The animals were kept here, away from the palaces. The building is still called the elephant house. You have to travel slower to notice the little things.

I then dropped in on the big hitters – Hagia Sophia Grand Mosque and the Şerefiye Cistern. The queue for Hagia Sophia stretched for at least half a mile. Ten seconds inside and I understood why. It was built as a cathedral in 537 and converted to a mosque in 1453. Today, the awestruck faithful from all sides meet here, phones at the ready, recording every detail. Another hotspot, the Blue Mosque, was closed for renovation work. I was sad to miss it.

A short walk away is the Grand Bazaar, where there are throngs of tourists at every shop, walkway and crossing. Locals hurriedly weave in and out amongst them, buying bread, groceries and spices. For someone who dislikes crowds, I felt puzzlingly at ease amongst this sparkling energy. It is said that half an hour is the longest anyone should stay here. I could have spent most of my day pottering around the stalls, looking, smelling, tasting and savouring beautiful things. Having whizzed through the Grand Bazaar on previous occasions, I could barely remember any of this. Guided walking tours offer a chance to leave the glorious chaos below and climb up to the roof of the bazaar. I followed my guide through a narrow alleyway and up precarious steps, brushing aside ruby carpets and silky fabrics that got in the way. The rooftop has a surprising stillness. A sea of neatly stacked terracotta tiles and glimmering minarets stare right back at you.

To celebrate my last day in the city I headed to a private hammam at Shangri-La’s CHI The Spa, where I was bathed, scrubbed, lathered in bubbles, oiled and massaged to serenity. Dinner was at Shangri-La’s magnificent Shang Palace. All of it affirmed what I had always quietly known – that this is an unequivocally beautiful place.

So, what exactly is so alluring about a city with so much traffic that it’s regularly gridlocked, where 16 million people, at last count in 2021, bump into each other on the pavements and every café is packed with tourists even on a November morning? Well, great civilizations collided here; Roman, Byzantine and Ottoman. Each powerful empire left an indelible stamp on Istanbul. You can see and feel it everywhere, in the buildings, the tastes, the colours and the sounds they left behind. The bridges, tunnels and ferries that connect two continents, came long after. They certainly impress, but it’s the larger-than-life history that triumphs in the end. It is what creates perfection out of the chaos and lingers on long after you leave the city. Is it any wonder that Istanbul is where I heard my true calling?

Travel from the bazaars of Istanbul to the beautiful beaches of Antalya with Culture Trip’s Majestic Turkey itinerary