When you first arrive in the city, you feel drawn to the riotous spectacle of Taksim, or to the multitudes of the street markets in Kadıköy. But after you settle into a life of work, of long hours and endless commutes, you find yourself spending less and less time in these places.
That’s when you start to prefer places like Kuzguncuk.
Sequestered along the Anatolian shores of the Bosphorus, just beyond Üsküdar and on the way out to Beylerbeyi Palace, Kuzguncuk feels like a village, self-absorbed and yet apart from the great city that rushes past on busy Paşa Limon Caddesi. It’s like a romantic road-stop, a hushed whisper in the midst of urban cacophony.
I’ve always thought Kuzuncuk would make a good setting for a romantic novel. It has the narrow, tree-lined streets – streets that wander idly back from the waterfront into quiet neighborhoods, but also climb steep hills to a park overlooking the city. The apartments and houses are elegant, with bright, pastel-colored facades.
For the restless-minded, there are bookshops and galleries, jewelers and herb sellers. For contemplative lovers, it has cozy cafes and restaurants (including an Italian place that serves decent ravioli). There is an old Greek church, as well as a community garden, where the locals plant vegetables in the spring. There is a good bakery, where you can find fresh simit and even baguettes. Finally, there are the inevitable cats lounging in shop windows or basking in the spring air.
As I said, the neighborhood has a venturous, tree-shaded quality that makes you feel as if you are somehow looking back in time – looking back at the world retreating in a rear-view mirror. The residents too possess a kind, unhurried air – something you don’t usually find in Taksim or Kadıköy on the weekends when everybody wants to be out. It also is much less crowded than those places.
You could say that Kuzguncuk is the Cihangir of the Asian side, and that would probably be true aesthetic-wise, but I’ve always felt Cihangir was maybe a bit too hip for its own good. Too many yabancılar raving about the bal kaymak. Anyway, Kuzguncuk has a more provincial vibe.
If I were hoping to impress a first date, I might just take her to Kuzguncuk. Being married, the offer still stands. After all, aren’t married folk allowed a bit of romance every once in a while?
On the weekends, my wife and I often go to Kuzguncuk not only for its picturesque qualities, but also because it’s convenient. We live in Sultantepe, the big hill in Üsküdar that looks down on the iskele and ferryboat station. So for us, getting to Kuzguncuk involves just a five-minute minibus ride.
Üsküdar and its surrounding neighborhoods are conservative. So the one downside of Kuzguncuk is that it lacks places that serve alcohol. My wife and I both bemoaned this at the Italian restaurant I mentioned. A pity they don’t serve wine to go with that good ravioli. But we did find one place, with the decidedly un-romantic name of Mülkiyeliler Birliği İstanbul Şubesi (Alumni Association, Istanbul Branch).
That’s OK for us. You can keep the name: we’ll take the simple, unpretentious dining room that looks out at the avenue, as well as the friendly, efficient service, and soothing Anatolian folk music playing – not too obtrusively – in the background.
We’ll also take the variety of meze (we like the patlıcan and yoğurt), but also the steak, chicken, and fish served up from the kitchen. Most of all, we’ll take the beer, rakı and wine. In summers, the proprietors open up the roof terrace, so you can have your dinner and drinks up there, and take in the Bosphorus breezes. After dinner, we usually stop down the street at Dilim Pastanesi and share a big hunk of chocolate-and-nuts cake, downed with a couple glasses of tea.
If we’re tired, as we often are, we sometimes we just grab the nearest minibüs and head home. Or if we are feeling sportif, we can travel through the park at the top of the hill, and make our way down to the neighborhood. I recommend visiting this park if you haven’t been there. If you Google it, it’s called Istanbul Büyükşehir Belediyesi Fethipaşa Sosyal Tesisleri – again, a rather cumbersome name. But really, Romeo (or Juliet) you can’t miss it – it’s the big park up on the hill.
Which reminds me: You always hear people – Istanbullus and yabancılar alike – griping about the paucity of parks. Well, here you get a park, trust me, with footpaths and winding, isolated roads, and best of all, the sense of solitude and being surrounded by verdant greenery.
The park itself is sprawling and steep – hope you don’t mind hiking – and the top of the hill offers panoramic views. You are high enough that you are standing at eye level with the Bosphorus Bridge, off in the distance. Nearby, you pass ramshackle low-built houses that seem to have grown out of (or into) the soft earth and surrounding gardens. They look cemeterial, moody and final, unlike the spanking new buildings of, say, Ataşehir or Ümraniye, that leave you feeling disoriented and anxious to get – well, anywhere else.
With enflasyon nowadays, it can feel like you spend a small fortune every time you go out. I won’t say that you will necessarily find it any better in Kuzguncuk, but the atmosphere helps – you have the illusion of it being more modestly priced. And you feel like you get value for your money. So many places nowadays in Istanbul, especially in the center, you pay all this money and wonder what exactly you get in return: An overpriced, very average dinner served to tune of bad techno? Distracted, careless waiters? Crowded places where all the good tables are taken?
Well, it may not have the best places to eat, and it may not be the coolest or most stylish, but Kuzguncuk earns its keep, friend. Take your sevgi out for the evening there and you shouldn’t come away feeling empty. (If you do, you both might want to think about seeing other people).
Especially if afterwards, you decide to take a walk back through the neighborhood one last time. Or maybe, as we sometimes do, you can let the minibus pass by and choose instead to walk all the way back to Üsküdar, along Pasa Limanı Caddesi – looking out at the lights of skyscrapers over on the other side in Levent, while other lonesome lovers pass by.
Images courtesy of the author.
