My first introduction to Istanbul came via embellished story, when my father regaled me as a pre-teen with tales of his freewheelin’ hippie misadventures traveling through Europe in the early 1970s in a blue-painted van. While my dear dad would no doubt love it if I passed on many of his more colourful anecdotes to you, dear readers of Yabangee, restrictions in time and space will lead me to focus on his Istanbul-specific chapter (though I will say that travel has changed a lot since then, when apparently one could just camp out overnight in the middle of Athens’ coliseum, and a flight from Canada to London would set you back a mere 60 bucks).
Istanbul: it sounded particularly exotic and interesting to my young, curious ears – the furthest eastern point of many flower-power backpackers of my parents’ generation. After driving through then Yugoslavia and a brief foray into Bulgaria, his brethren of long haired, leather-pouched and sandaled vagabond friends arrived to Istanbul in the winter of 1971, and slept in their van, which they parked somewhere in the backstreets of Sultanahmet. I guess two girls in the group had it in their heads to continue onwards to India (to “buy caftans”, in the words of my father), and the rest of the caravan thought they would get a little taste of the east themselves by visiting Istanbul before heading back to Western Europe.
Because it was the 70’s, and everyone’s memories of the 70’s seem to be somewhat sparse and clouded in a smoky halo of dubious origins, the only thing that my dad really seems to remember about Istanbul (besides the old taxis and driving across the snow-covered Galata bridge), is spending hours at some mysterious cafe known as “The Pudding shop”.
An interest in history led me to googling Sultanahmet’s touristic sites and, sure enough, the Lale Café “Pudding shop” that we have all seen down along the tram line across from Hagia Sophia, is THE pudding shop of my dad’s nostalgic discussions. Apparently, during the sixties and seventies, as Istanbul became the starting point for many of the more adventurous wanderers to begin their ‘hippie trail’ overland journey to India and Nepal (through Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan – serious caftan territory) and, as there was no internet or smartphones to help travelers communicate in those days, “The Pudding shop”, and its bulletin board, became a messaging service for travelers looking to meet other pilgrims headed east, share stories, braid each other’s hair, swap information and so on and so forth.
According to my online research, some of the messages left on the shop’s bulletin board were quite personal and included love letters and confessions, including a note from “Megan” to “Malcolm” apologizing for “the business down in Crete” (incidentally, my father also spent 6 months in Crete but I’m not sure I even want to ask if he knew anyone named “Megan”). Another amusing story from the cafe’s heydey involves a microbus driver who, apparently, didn’t have enough seats for all the young hippies who wanted to share the long ride to Kathmandu, so the Pudding Shop’s owner supplied them with a chair, saying to “drop it off on your way back through Istanbul.”
Taking its nickname from the Tavuk Gogsu pudding that it served, ‘The Pudding Shop’ (originally opened in 1957 as the ‘Lale Pastahanesi’), still stands and as far as I know still sells its namesake chicken dessert, but the space itself has obviously lost some of its character as times have changed, and now exists mainly as a photo-op touristic draw for those aware of its history, or a self-serve lokanta for those just looking for a quick meal. It was featured in the notorious 1978 movie “Midnight Express”, and perhaps lost some of its appeal due to that film’s less than flattering portrayal of Istanbul. Regardless, next time you’re down in Sultanahmet and craving a bite, consider dropping into the once infamous pudding shop for a slice of Istanbul’s bohemian folklore.
Hippy van and contemporary Pudding Shop photos provided by Julia Totino. All others curtesy of The Pudding Shop
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This article was first published in June 2016 by author Julia Totino.
The afro haired guy I remember. He worked carpets and he called himself Sammy (Suleyman). Haven’t seen him for years so no idea where he is now. I was a visitor to the pudding shop in ’86 and it was still in the old style then. The bulletin board was up with people hoping to connect and travel inland or further on. The two things I knew about Istanbul when I arrived then was to see The blue mosque and go to the pudding shop to connect with travellers. There is something romantic about this method of communication as was poste restante where your letters from family went to the main post office. It’s amazing we made connections and word of mouth worked so well.
Sammy dıed of cancer 5 years ago
I’m really happy to read other peoples stories and memories from this time and place! My uncle recently told me a small detail that my father neglected to mention about his trip to Istanbul which is that because his guitar was stolen while he was here (from another traveler I guess, possibly someone he met at the Pudding shop), my Dad decided to return to Canada instead of going back to Greece, and because of the timing, happened to move next door to where my mom happened to live, and they met by chance. So in essence, had my father decided not to come to Istanbul and have his guitar stolen, my parents might not have met and I might not exist. Romantic indeed. 😉
Drugs were sold upstairs and Sammy would get me a taxi at 11pm after he swept the druggies to the street. Sammi would always make sure I was in the taxi of the Pudding Shop gypsy who would take be back to my European- side hotel. Ali let me put my packages behind the cash register for safety and I always sat at the owners table. You might have remembered me. I was the middle-aged patron who wrote THE EYE AND THE EYEBROW a history of Kas. Gail Chase
Hi!
As a retro buff who’s been living in Istanbul all his life, thank you for introducing me to this lovely place! I didn’t even know such place existed in my country. Last day I paid a visit there and took a photo with the owner. Unfortunately sammy has passed away but it was nice to even be in that environment. :))
I (an Aussie) met a girl( from California) at a youth hostel in Crete in November 1971. We fell for each other on the ferry ride to Rhodes, talking all day into the sunset. Upon returning to Athens, my plan was to return to Naples(boat ticket already purchased). She was planning to travel on to Istanbul. I suggested that she shouldn’t travel alone. She was adamant- so what could I do? The right thing of course – I ditched the boat ticket and we bought student airfares to Istanbul. Back then when you arrived in a new place, you asked the first hippie looking person where to eat and stay. Naturally in Istanbul, it was the Pudding Shop. We stayed three great days there(accommodations upstairs), before heading south to Israel. Forty seven years later we are still happily married. We will be planning a revisit to the Greek Islands and Istanbul for our fiftieth anniversary.
Wow that’s an amazing story. Thank you for sharing. :))))
Norman. Went to the pudding shop in 1970 with 3 friends. We were travelling in a Landrover and after travelling right through Turkey to Iran we were told we needed a visa to continue travelling. We had to return to Istanbul to get the visas. Having been the Pudding shop before we returned to speak to people about selling the Landrover. We were befriended by a local who said he could help us. He put us up for the night on beds with sheepskin hides as blankets. The following day he introduced us to a man in the Pudding shop. This man offered us 300 lira (about £50) and 2 British passports for our vehicle. Naturally we told him in no uncertain terms what to do with his offer. He said British passports were worth a lot of money but we weren’t ready to go down that road. Unfortunately with low funds we had to return to Europe to find work Wegot work in Germany hoping to continue our travels but Everton FCC got to the quarter finals of the European cup so 3 of us returned to England to support our beloved Everton. PS We got beat
Hung out at “The Pudding Shop” for a few weeks in December 1971. A group of 5 of us had just visited Izmir for several days because the banned (then) Whirling Dervishes were allowed to perform there publicly only occasionally back then, a few years later that ban was apparently lifted. I can’t remember how the 5 of us got together, it must have been at arrival at Izmir & being the only western hippies around. We would gather small crowds of children when we wandered the streets & I remember taking horse drawn “taxis” across town on occasion. 2 went on to India, 1 to Bagdad & K & I headed to Istanbul to land at the Hotel Gungor right next to the Pudding Shop which we made our home base.
I remember becoming friendly with one local there who would gradually nod & slump down in his seat until only his head remained above the table, I found out later he was a morphine addict. Another time we were sitting on the edge of the Bosphorus area in Sultanamet taking in the view when a couple of guys pulled up in a small boat & came over & sat with us & shared their hashish break with us.
I hadn’t caught the fever to find a guru in India as seemingly every other hippie & since I was still a teenager who had been away from the States & hitch-hiking across Europe for months, with Christmas imminent I decided I wanted to go to a Christian country & we splurged for a flight to Rome for Christmas Eve. I would like to return to Istanbul someday…
oh, lordy. istanbul back in the day. mysterious and wonder filled. blood soaked if you did your history homework.
launching pad for points further east. kinda scary sketchy, but all okay and well if one took the dive.
my kingdom to return, Istanbul, The Pudding Shop, the old Galata Bridge, youth.
My friend and I after travelling in Nepal in 1985 got a ride on the board there to Munich with a couple in a converted school bus who managed a campground in Munich in summer and were fruit pickers in Greece in winter- if you guys are out there let me know!
Pudding Shop. I visited first time in 1983, as a young curious and adventurist tourist at the age of 22,
Right now im writing my travelogue,
Oh my God from Pakistan to Bulgaria, by road
Nostalgic years 🌹
Remember going there , sept ‘79 “midnight Express “, the book was banned at the time.there was a newspaper article cut out ,pasted onto the window of the Pudding Shop, given the Turkish view on the book,do remember that the food was good and a great meeting place for overland travelers .. we opted for a boat leaving Instanbul to Trabzon on the Black Sea, sleeping on the deck .
I was at the Pudding Shop in 1973. My friend and I had bought a VW bus in Amsterdam and driven through Europe for two months, sleeping in and eating from it, before landing in Instanbul. We met all sorts of fascinating folk at the Pudding Shop. We smoked hash crushed in hand-rolled tobacco cigarettes and dreamed of going on to India. We knew that the bus wouldn’t make and we reluctantly turned back to the Balkans for the rest of that magic summer.