Cycling in Istanbul is not for the faint-hearted – chaos, hills, dogs, and a beer under Hagia Sophia’s shadow.
Istanbul: when the goal smells like beer and history
After 24 days and countless turns of the pedals – ISTANBUL!
The city hit me like a festival of sound: horns, prayers, seagulls, street vendors shouting “çay!”. It felt like Christmas on caffeine.
After weeks of solitude, I met an old friend from Slovakia right here. We clinked our beers just below Hagia Sophia, both a little lost, both absurdly happy.
He asked, “So… you made it here by bike?”
I smiled. “Yeah. And guess what – my reward is a leaky room and Istanbul rain.”
Cheap rooms and dripping poetry
Now I understand why the room was so cheap. Falling asleep to the rhythmic drip-drip-drip of water from the ceiling was… meditative, in a slightly torturous way.
Drying clothes? Forget it. Istanbul’s humidity is like a clingy ex – once it hugs you, it doesn’t let go.
At some point, I started counting drips. Somewhere between the 600th and 700th, I began to hear distant muezzins. It felt oddly spiritual – like the room was crying with the city.
The Battle of Istanbul and a Submarine Escape
Day 25: Leaving Istanbul by bike is like trying to escape an anthill with a backpack full of bricks. Cycling in Istanbul isn’t just sport – it’s survival art. Narrow roads, steep hills twisting like oriental melodies, and cars that treat lanes as mere decoration.
I asked a local man, “Is there a bike path?”
He smiled: “Inşallah.”
That’s Turkish for “maybe one day… or never.”
So I surrendered – proudly.
The undersea escape: Marmaray metro
Istanbul has an exit not even Google Maps can describe with justice. The Marmaray Metro tunnel dives beneath the Bosphorus, connecting Europe and Asia like a steel vein. It’s one of the deepest immersed tunnels in the world – just four minutes, and you’re on another continent.
While drivers above fought traffic on the bridge, I glided beneath them in silence – my bike beside me, sea above my head, and a grin that said, “Sorry guys, I just cycled under the world.”
Back to reality – climbs, chaos and a flat tire
Once on the Asian side, reality hit back. Steep climbs, honking cars, and then – psssst – a puncture. The second one of the trip. My anti-puncture tires clearly hadn’t met Istanbul’s glass and gravel combo.
While I fixed the tire, a man leaned from his window.
“Çay?” he asked, offering me tea. He was right – glue dries better with tea. And that’s Istanbul: chaos and kindness mixed in the same breath.
Hidden Istanbul Facts (from the saddle):
☕ Tea on wheels: Street vendors deliver çay by motorbike, balancing trays like acrobats. If you cycle slowly, one might even offer you a cup mid-ride.
🏘️ The Balat challenge: Some of the steepest cobbled streets in the old Jewish quarter are so vertical that even scooters give up. Locals call them “the streets that test your soul.”
🕳️ Secret tunnels: Beneath Sultanahmet, there are forgotten Byzantine passages once used to store wine and—allegedly—hide runaway monks. Some locals whisper they still connect to the sea.
🐱 Cats as traffic gods: In Istanbul, a cat can stop a line of cars faster than a red light. Locals won’t move until the cat decides it’s time.
🌙 Night soundtrack: Around midnight, when mosques go quiet, the city hums with stray dogs, ferries, and the soft clinking of simit vendors cleaning their trays. Istanbul never sleeps—it just changes rhythm.
Epilogue – chaos with a heartbeat
Cycling in Istanbul isn’t about speed or distance. It’s about surrender. When you finally stop fighting the noise, the rules, the slopes, the chaos— the city reveals its pulse.
And as I sat on a rooftop that night, watching the call to prayer echo across two continents, I realized: This city doesn’t just connect Europe and Asia. It connects exhaustion and awe, madness and meaning, chaos and heart.
Question for you:
Have you ever biked through a city that completely overwhelmed you—but in the best way possible? Would you take the metro under the sea, or pedal your way out no matter what?
Tomorrow will probably be my last day in Turkey.
