Discovering More Greek Connections on Büyükada island

This morning, there were more Hitchcockian shenanigans over on the roof terrace of the neighbouring Seven Hills Hotel. The hotel staff even provide the titbits for their visitors so they can get their Instagram shots.

Today’s adventure took us out of the hustle and bustle of Istanbul and across the Marmara Sea to the Princes’ Islands, where echoes of Greek history and a slower pace of life still linger. Our destination was Büyükada, the largest and most famous of the island group.

At Sultanahmet tram stop, we boarded the trusty T1 tram line, heading towards Kabataş. The tram was already packed, standing room only, and the temperature was edging towards 30°C. The route carried us past Eminönü, across the Golden Horn, and finally into Kabataş. Although ferries to the Princes’ Islands do depart from Eminönü, there’s good reason to start from Kabataş—more space, fewer crowds at first, and a better chance of nabbing a seat.

When we arrived, it seemed the whole of Istanbul had decided to escape the city heat the same way. The port was heaving with people and a sea of bodies jostling for tickets. We eventually made it to the ticket office window and bought ours for 110 TL each. It’s worth noting that there are both public and private ferry operators. With the public ferries, you can tap your Istanbulkart, but we were swept along with the crowd towards a private company. In the end, it hardly mattered—the price difference was minimal, and the service was much the same.

After about ten minutes of waiting, the gates opened and a surge of passengers funnelled through the narrow entrance. We let the flow carry us forward, and thankfully, we were able to secure seats on the deck. As the boat filled and finally pulled away, the noise and chaos of the port dissolved. A cool breeze rolled in from the sea, and calm settled everywhere.

Our next stop was Eminönü, where the last remaining seats on deck were quickly snapped up—another reason to board at Kabataş if you can. From there, the ferry slipped past the mouth of the Bosphorus and out into the Marmara Sea. Istanbul’s skyline stretched behind us, a dramatic mix of glittering high-rises and grand Ottoman mansions lining the shore.

The journey took about an hour and a half, with the first call at Heybeliada. The island revealed itself with pine-clad hills sheltering a small town, where wooden villas stood shoulder-to-shoulder with modern concrete homes. I’d read that Heybeliada offers a more relaxed escape than its larger sibling, a place where time seems to slow. That’s very tempting.

Just ten minutes later, we arrived on Büyükada and as fast as the crowds had rushed to board, it was the same to disembark. The streets lining the harbour front were already bustling with life.

Before we head off to our first destination, it’s worth giving some context as to why Büyükada and its history are closely tied to the Greek and Byzantine world. Büyükada, was once known as Prinkipos, meaning Prince in Greek. During the Byzantine period, it was used as a place of exile for princes, royals and even emperors, which gave the island its name. Until the early 20th century Büyükada was home to a large Greek community, alongside Armenians and Jews. Many of the island’s grand wooden mansions were built during the late Ottoman period by wealthy Greek and Armenian families who used the island as a summer retreat. Although the Greek population declined after the population exchange of 1923 and later events in Istanbul, their influence is still visible in the architecture, churches, and cultural character of the island today.

Büyükada is sometimes called the ‘island of two hills’ of which the highest is Yuce Tepe, standing at 202 metres. The second is known as Christ Hill. Our first visit today is the Monastery of St George, which sits on the peak of Yuce Tepe. It’s one of the most important Greek Orthodox sites in the region and a popular pilgrimage destination.

There are several transport options on the island, which I’ve outlined at the end of this post. We caught one of the electric buses to Luna Park, a forest park with cafes and picnic areas. If you ask for Ai Giorgios, the driver will know what you mean. The bus stop is right at the bottom of the path that leads up to the monastery.

Be warned – this is a steep climb! In the midday heat, it was almost unbearable. As fast as I topped up with water, it instantly made its way out through my pores. Even my eyeballs were sweating. Fortunately, there were benches along the way to rest and recharge, and the small pockets of dappled shade from the trees lining the path were a godsend.

After what felt like an eternity, we made it to the top of the hill and the monastery. I, the atheist, almost turned to God in gratitude. Google Maps said this was a 20-minute walk, but it took us 40! The church dates back to the Byzantine era, though the structure we see today was rebuilt in the 19th century, retaining the traditional Greek Orthodox architecture that graces the Princes’ Islands. The church inside was simple with ornate iconography. A priest was in attendance as visitors paid reverence to the patron saint.

There are several legends attributed to the Monastery of St George Koudonos (Koudonos meaning bells) – to give it its full name. Back in 1625, a shepherd was grazing his flock on the hill when he heard the sound of bells coming from under the ground. He began to excavate and discovered an icon of St George. However, the first documented record was the construction of the Katholikan in 1752. Another legend says that St. George himself appeared to those in true need, a tale that draws devotees from all over Turkey every year, particularly on the saint’s feast day in April. One enduring local story recounts a fisherman who was saved from a storm after praying at the church, reinforcing the belief in St. George’s protection over the islanders and visitors. Another legend speaks of lovers who ascend the hill together, believing that St. George will bless their union. Maybe lovers who suffer together will stay together!

The vantage point on top of the hill offers sweeping views across the Sea of Marmara back towards Istanbul. From the craziness of the heaving metropolis to the peace and tranquillity of the island, the disparity couldn’t be more stark. The cafe at the top provided much-welcomed refreshments as a reward for the effort.

Though the Greek Orthodox community on the island is now small, their presence is still felt in the churches, schools, and cemeteries scattered across Büyükada. What’s remarkable about St. George’s, however, is that it has become a pilgrimage site not only for Christians but also for Muslims. Each year on 23 April—the feast of St. George, which coincides with the spring festival of Hıdırellez—thousands of people climb the steep path to the monastery. Orthodox pilgrims come to pray and light candles, while Muslim visitors tie threads or ribbons along the route, making wishes for love, health, and prosperity. The shared tradition gives the monastery a unique spirit of unity and a place where faith, hope, and humanity bridge division. A lesson to us all and beyond!

After a short refreshment break and a chance to admire the view across to the small neighbouring island of Sedef Adası, we began our descent — thankfully much gentler than the climb up. Partway down, our eyes were drawn to our next destination on the opposite Christ’s Hill and one of the main reasons we had come to Büyükada. Rising above the pines of Luna Park stood the vast, abandoned shell of the Greek Orphanage.

I had first discovered the story of the orphanage through an Arti TV documentary, The Last Greeks of Turkey. If you are interested in Greece and its modern history, I highly recommend this captivating film.

Almost opposite the path from the Monastery of St George, another trail branches off, winding gently through a shady pine forest. The walk along this route was much more enjoyable. Colourful birdboxes hung from the branches of fir trees along the way.

The Greek Orphanage on Büyükada was once located in the vast late-Ottoman timber building. It was built in 1898 by architect Alexandre Vallaury for the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits as a luxury hotel and casino, but Sultan Abdulhamid II refused an operating license. It was originally built to cater for Belle-Époque travellers, so it was developed on a monumental scale, entirely of wood, with around 206 rooms, making it Europe’s largest wooden building. In 1903, the philanthropist Eleni Zarifi bought it and donated it to the Ecumenical Patriarchate (see previous post), which opened it as an orphanage.

From 1903–1964 the home drew in children from Istanbul and, crucially, from waves of upheaval that created mass orphanhood and displacement among the region’s Greek Orthodox population. This included the Balkan Wars, World War I, the Greco-Turkish War, the 1922 Asia Minor Catastrophe and the 1923 population exchange. During the peak refugee crisis in 1922, records show 733 boys living there. During its 60 years as an orphanage, it is said to have sheltered about 5,800 children.

In 1964 during political tensions with Cyprus, the Turkish authorities shut the orphanage down. After a long legal fight, the European Court of Human Rights in 2012 ordered the property to be returned to the Patriarchate. Conservation groups have listed it as an endangered building, and as of 2025, there have been moves to convert it into a hotel. However, looking at it today in its very sad state, I do wonder if it has gone way beyond repair and restoration.

Before we made our way back down the hill, we made another impromptu stop at an old abandoned monastery further up the hill. Isa Rum Monastery, also known as the Monastery of Sotiros Christou, can trace its origins back to 1158 however, its current structure primarily dates to the late Ottoman era, restored by the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate and with support from affluent Greek merchants and aristocrats from Fener (the Fenariots) during the 19th century. Today, it no longer operates as a Christian entity and appears to be a private dwelling.

After climbing back down the hill we joined a short queue for the bus, which continued in a circle around the northern part of the island. Buyukada is a popular place with tourists and locals to spend time on its small beaches and the bus stops along the east coast where the beaches can be found.

We disembarked a few stops before the harbour giving me time to look at some of the beautiful old wooden houses, once home to the Greek community on the island. The elegant tree lined avenues are home to some of the island’s finest late 19th and early 20th century mansions. Many of the houses are painted white or a pale pastel colour to reflect summer heat, and also to maintain the Aegean/Greek island aesthetic.

Many of the houses were built by wealthy Greek Orthodox merchants, shipowners, and bankers of Constantinople, who used Büyükada as their summer retreat. The façades with wrought-iron balconies and ornate wooden carvings certainly give the impression of affluence and prestige.

Before heading back to the harbour for our boat ride to Istanbul, we enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the shaded streets, pausing at one of the many waterfront cafés for ice cream and a decadent San Sebastián baked cheesecake—a dessert you’ll find in cafés across Istanbul. Büyükada was busy today, but the island still offered a welcome escape from the city’s frenetic pace, and the gentle sea breeze provided a refreshing break from the summer heat.

Getting around Buyukada

There are several ways to get around Buyukada. Although the island claims to be carless, that isn’t exactly true, as there are many cars on the island however, there is a concerted effort to lessen the environmental impact here. As well as Shanks’s Pony, you can hire a bike from one of the many bike hire shops. If you go on foot, watch out for bicycles coming from all directions at pace. You can hire a tour in an electric golf cart or use the electric bus service, both available from the bus station.

To find the bus station, start at the ferry terminal building on the harbour front and take the street leading up to a small clock tower in the middle of the square. Once here, bear left and in front is the bus station. Alternatively, thumb Araba Meydani into Google Maps. You can also stop off at the Greek Orthodox Church of Panagia along the way.

At the station, there are several bus stands. It took a while to work out which one we needed, but the main service takes a circular route around the island. To the left of the wooden kiosk was the entrance to the barrier where you swipe your Istanbulkart or payment card. Once through, we queued for about 15 minutes until we were able to fit onto one of the small buses. All quite simple once you fathom it out.

We found the ticket office on the harbour front where we could use our Istanbulkart. This boat called in at several of the other Princes’ Islands along the way. Had we more time, we would have come back to explore these further. Several of the islands are home to Greek Orthodox monasteries, several of which could be seen from the boat as we sailed by. By now we were completely pooped, so we headed straight back to Istanbul city just as the sun began to set. The boat was the perfect place to appreciate this wonderful sight.

So exhausted were we, that we accidentally disembarked the boat on the Asian side. A word of warning – don’t confuse your Kadakoy’s with your Karakoy’s! Thankfully, there are several ways to get back across, and we just hopped onto another boat, which gave us beautiful views of Istanbul illuminated by the bright city lights.

Back at Eminomou, we walked into the town to Red River Pub. It may not be a very Turkish-sounding name, but I suspect one of the owners was a John Wayne fan. We’d enjoyed our meal so much there a few nights ago that we decided to go back. They offer something a little bit different than kofte and kebab-type meals, and the service is completely hassle-free, friendly and welcoming at a very fair price. To start, I had vegetable borek followed by Turkish pasta (both amazing!), and Peter had some kind of meat feast followed by fish, which was also top-notch!

This was a lovely end to an almost incident-free day! ❤️