Photo: Cgreb

Last Sunday, I felt like having fish at one of the restaurants under the Galata Bridge and strolled down the cobble stoned Yuksek Kaldirim onto the Karaköy pier. It was a crisp and beautiful afternoon and the sun shone gleefully on the turquoise waters of the Golden Horn. I love to stand just before the foot of the bridge to listen to the clink and rustle of thousands of reels released from atop the bridge by the weekend fishers of Galata.

Photo: Birasuegi

Fishing on the Galata bridge seem to be a men only affair, so Galata fishers, unlike their counterparts in Emirgan or Istinye who park their station wagons by the water, set up a barbeque and play cards while their rods rest against a fold up chair, reaffirm their fraternity by jigging their bait in perfect harmony.

The customers of the Galata bridge fish restaurants stare at the curtain of plastic lines wondering when the band of fishermen will applaud and jeer another successful catch. So, I sat down over beer and grilled fish in Galatea Restaurant and joined the group of ’watchers’.

Just as I had taken my first bite, the waiter who served me and his friend, with a mischievous grin, jerked down one of the lines hanging from the bridge. The line bounced off his hands and got tangled in someone else’s line. Instantly, from upstairs a man yelled. Both waiters broke into a cheeky giggle and the restaurant staff and managers joined in the rumble.

Photo: Urbanlegend

It was interesting to witness the two waiters’ fascination with the sea and the fraternal awe shared by all the frequenters of the Galata bridge; these men of whom many have come to Istanbul from remote parts of Turkey, where they have grown up without ever hearing the seagulls sing in tune to the ferryboats baritone horn. Once there, the dark, mystical bosom of the Bosphorus that is the Golden Horn has lured these men to its banks and bridges.

To many Turks belly dancing is seen as a kind of striptease and thus not something for decent people to attend to. That’s probably why it’s mainly served to tourists when they flock the crowded restaurants in Istanbul’s Kumkapi-district or at so called ’oriental shows’ designed to give visitors a glimpse of Anatolia’s variety of cultures. That said, almost all Turkish women know how to do the belly dance, but they generally prefer to do so with out dressing up in a glittery bikini.

Should you wish to see really good belly dancers who seem to enjoy what they do (that is not always the case in Kumkapi) you would want to get your self a table at Al Jamal in Istanbul’s Macka-district.

The food is top notch Lebanese mezze, the décor is outrageously decadent and the belly dancers are the perfect fulfilment of any visitor’s dream of the Orient. Feel free to stuff your bank notes any where in their dresses and feel free to join the dancing at any time.

With a ’drinks included set menu’ this won’t be your cheapest night out in Istanbul, but it could be one of the best.

AL JAMAL; Taşkişla Cad. No: 13; Maçka Demokrasi Parkı Ici.

I had never heard of or seen Retro until my younger sister came to visit. Tucked away in a basement down an almost deserted passage it sure doesn’t scare anyone off by aggressive marketing. Three model figures dressed in true retro gear and a couple of the shop’s bags pose at the entrance in Istanbul’s Beyoglu district. That’s all the advertising the shop has and that’s why I didn’t take any notice for months.

This cave of hidden fashion treasures sits down well below street level without any windows and sports thousands of hangers tightly packed with fabulous dresses, skimpy t-shirts, well worn trousers, loads of shoes, feathers, pearls and glasses all kept in a myriad of small and large rooms. The costumers are a mixture of people who wants fancy clothing at a low price, others who want retro stuff to combine with their new designer ware and professionals looking for just the right dress for their play or movie. It’s all there, just waiting for someone to come and dig it out.

Retro is also happy to serve a cup of tea in one of their couches, well placed in the midst of it all.

RETRO, Istiklal Caddesi, Suriye Pasaji 166/c, Beyoglu, Istanbul. It’s between Odakule and Tünel Square, next to Sultanahmet Köftecisi.

This rumbustious city is an incredibly attractive spot for internal and external migrants who, upon entry into Istanbul, are engulfed by its rundown shantytowns and ghettos.

Tarlabasi, a shantytown located in the heart of Istanbul just a few minutes walk from Taksim Square, is considered to be a no-go area among many Istanbullus and tourists alike because it is believed to house the most discontent of the migrant communities in Istanbul.

It’s amusing to watch many a backpacker dive randomly from Tarlabasi Avenue into one of the side streets only to come out looking petrified minutes later. I, on the other hand, consider myself a local in Istanbul and I confidently venture into the core of Tarlabasi, passing smiles and nods at voluptuous Roma women perched on the sidewalk washing the sooth off their carpets into the street and at dozens of loquacious youths playing football.

Although the ethnic composition of each wave of migration that Tarlabasi received since the 1990s is disputed, the prevalence of Kurdish and Roma residents is quite obvious. Passing by barbershops and bakkals, small grocery stores selling mostly outdated goods, I also hear what I assume to be Nigerian and Arabic blending into the beat of the Arabesque music whizzing out of the butchers.

In fact, this dainty and piquant neighborhood in the Beyoglu district is traditionally home to Istanbul’s Greek Orthodox community and has for long been a proud, affluent area known for its beautiful apartments, breezy alleys, and the city’s largest Syriac church.

I usually stop in front of large, ornate buildings to read the engravings over the gate or on the façade. Most buildings are dated around 1800s and look tired, grim and hung-over.

There and then I wonder: Is Tarlabasi, once a lively, throbbing neighborhood accommodating Greeks, Armenians, Syriacs, and Muslims, now nearing its poor and destitute death? Then again, I gaze at the jazzy collection of wigs, boas, and funky underwear lining the windows of Tarlabasi Avenue shops, and listen to the jeer of countless children playing hopscotch on its streets and think: “Tarlabasi will outlive us all”.

My best advice to visitors looking for a hotel in Istanbul is to avoid Sultanahmet. The historic peninsula is a must in terms of sight seeing, but a disaster when it comes to restaurants and nightlife. Only tourists go there, and the food in the restaurants reflects what they think tourists want instead of what Turkey really has to offer.

Visitors are much better off by staying in Beyoglu, where the Turks go out and where the best of the night life and many of the city’s best restaurants are located. One recommended hotel is the Büyük Londra Otel with reminiscence of Istanbul’s Pera area as it was one hundred years ago.

The hotel maintains an elegant décor that must have suited very well the travellers arriving with the Orient Express. Today hotel’s pretty run down, but its location and views over the Golden Horn are well worth to consider.

The roof top bar has a splendid view and has become a favourite meeting point of Istanbul’s young and younger artists whenever they have something or somebody to celebrate.

BÜYÜK LONDRA OTEL, Mesrutiyet Caddesi 117, Beyoglu, Istanbul

Go further: Find more hotels in Istanbul here and read more about the city's many rooftop bars here.