Before visiting, my knowledge of Istanbul – the sparkling capital of transcontinental Turkey and the point at which Europe and Asia collide – was embarrassingly minimal. Yet its purported sensory richness – the spice bazaars, imposing Blue Mosque; the chance to sail the Bosphorus Strait at sunset – always appealed hugely.
As such, at the dawn of this year I made a plan to combine a long-dreamt-of Istanbul city break with a trip to the fairytale region of Cappadocia – where candyfloss skies are littered with rainbow hot-air balloons. Inspired, in large part, by friends who had honeymooned there. Fast-forward nine months, and leave restrictions cut the full trip short – but I did still make a trip to Istanbul happen. At the balmy end of September, may I add – when the blazing summer heat had softened and many of its visitors had returned home. Autumn, I’ve since decided, is the best time to go.
Ahead of my holiday, I stumbled across the Airbnb profile of Tao, an Istanbul-based creative who runs four colourful and design-led homes in the city. A one-bedroom mid-century flat, a larger, three-bedroom property, a loft-style apartment with uninterrupted Bosphorus views, and the space – after much deliberation – that we chose. A two-bedroom, two-storey boho-style hideaway in the heart of Çukurcuma, Cihangir.
Initial research suggested that the apartment ticked many of my boxes. It looked calming and lived-in; boasted an abundance of natural light (both necessary for the sake of recharging, after a day spent alongside the some 16 million people who share the city). Plus, it seemed to be located in a neighbourhood I’d enjoy. Cihangir, a small patch of Beyoğlu, is a stomping ground for writers and artists – comparable to Paris’ Le Marais – where antique stores, coffee shops, pool bars and boutiques line the narrow, cobbled streets.
Our Friday night arrival at our new artsy home set the tone for the entirety of the stay. Outside, bars were spilling onto the streets, the call to prayer rang out across the water; many of the city’s 100,000 (+) cats sang out in chorus. Oh, and our first taxi driver kindly scammed us. But, stepping inside felt akin to collapsing in a king-sized Shangri-La bed or settling into a Mandarin Oriental treatment room. Safe, calming and supremely comfortable.
Upon turning the key, we ventured up one short flight of stairs to be greeted by a first-floor entry-way and kitchen space. Here, white-washed walls, wooden kitchen cabinetry and a rich-orange splashback were set to a backdrop of a huge floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. The brightness of the space – better experienced the morning after our arrival, admittedly – felt almost gallery-like, yet the exposed brickwork, luscious houseplants and wooden flooring added warmth and homeliness. Think: part-loft; part-botanical haven.
The kitchen was decked out with a Nespresso machine, drinking water, soup and herbal teas – a treat, after said scam – and in the corner was a beautiful wooden table, hidden underneath a floating staircase.
This staircase very quickly became my most-loved feature in the property: a sweeping staircase which looked to levitate above the first floor; which led us to an open plan bedroom-come-living room.
Much like the smaller second bedroom (of which the main difference was its large cushioned window seat), walls were clad with macro-woven hangings, more house plants added depth and texture, and the low-platform bed frame was decked in soft linen bedding. Next to the bed was a free-standing bath, which I regrettably didn’t use, and set the other side of a huge corner sofa was a beautiful terrace.
Each of our mornings in Tao’s home started with coffee on this terrace – a private space with rattan lounge furniture which blurs the line between inside and out – before stepping out for further coffee (Faw Coffee became a steadfast favourite), Turkish eggs with all the trimmings (Cihangir Bazlama Tost is also worth noting) and slow meanders along cobbled streets to bookstores (Minoa Pera is beautiful – you must go).
I felt a sense of incompleteness wandering back downstairs to check-out of this artsy, characterful apartment: like I hadn’t quite done everything there was to be done. A good reason, I supposed, to return to Tao’s townhouse next year.