Fener & Balat – Where Cultures and Colours Collide

Again fully charged with a nourishing breakfast, today we are going to head to Fener and Balat, two colourful neighbourhoods that sit side by side along the southern shore of the Golden Horn. This will give us a chance to put our Istanbulkarts into use and also begin our first real foray into discovering Greek connections in Asia Minor.

A short walk from the hotel is the Sultanahmet tram stop. We hopped onto the T1 tram to Eminönü, just a couple of stops away and next to the harbour. We then had to transfer to the new T5 tram towards Alibeyköy by taking the subway to the other side of the road and walking to the entrance to the T5 line close to the Egyptian Spice Market. Just a couple of stops down the line, we disembarked in Fener.

The name Fener originates from the Greek word ‘Fanari’, meaning lantern or beacon. Until today, Fener is home to the historic seat of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople – the spiritual centre of Eastern Orthodoxy. Let me digress a little and provide a bit of context. In 330 AD, Emperor Constantine the Great officially proclaimed Constantinople as the new capital of the Roman Empire. At that time, Constantinople (formerly Byzantium) was only beginning to develop as a Christian centre. Constantine ordered the construction of the Church of Agia Irene, becoming the first cathedral of Constantinople.

Constantine I commissioned the construction of the first Church of Agia Sofia – I say first because there were three in total. Although he didn’t live to see its completion, it was consecrated in 360AD during his son Constantius II’s reign. The bishop’s seat was then moved from Agia Irene to Agia Sofia, becoming the symbolic heart of Christianity. In 381AD, the Bishop of Constantinople was formally recognised as Patriarch.

So a quick hop, skip, and a jump across the centuries in 404AD, Agia Sofia burnt down during some riots and was rebuilt by Emperor Theodosius II into Hagia Sofia v2. This was also destroyed in a fire in 532AD. Enter Justinian I, who in 537AD constructed Agia Sofia v3, which is the one that still stands today.

In the middle of all this, in 1453, Constantinople fell to the Ottomans. You’d expect the Ottomans to assert their authority and clamp down on Christianity, but Sultan Mehmed II had other ideas. All non-Muslim citizens were divided into religious communities known as millets. The Greek Orthodox citizens became part of the Rum millet and were placed under the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarch, becoming an administrative leader as well as a spiritual one. The Ottoman powers recognised the Patriarchy’s jurisdiction across all Orthodox Christians within its empire, whilst also having certain privileges bestowed upon them.

As part of the Sultan’s grand plan for the city, Agia Sofia was converted into a mosque, and the Patriarchy was relocated to various churches, which in turn were converted into mosques or demolished to make way for even bigger mosques. Eventually, in 1597, the Patriarchy was relocated to the Church of St George in Fener, where it remains today. The Ecumenical Patriarchate in Fener remains the spiritual leader of 200-300 million Orthodox Christians worldwide.

The Church of St George is just a short walk from the tram stop in Fener. Entry is free of charge, but first we had to pass through security and have our bags scanned. The lady told me that I’d need to cover my shoulders, which I knew, and swiftly whipped out a light kimono top. “Very good”, she said, knowing that I’d come prepared.

A few steps took us up to a small courtyard and then through a doorway into the church that was dimly lit by low-hanging chandeliers. There was only access along each side of the church, but it was still possible to see how richly decorated the interior was with a wall of heavily gilded icons. Along one side of the church were the relics of Saints John Chrysostom, Gregory the Theologian, and Basil the Great encased in ornate reliquaries.

Our visit here was brief, but it was important for us to come and connect the dots of our journey. Photographs are forbidden inside the church.

The Sultan also encouraged the Christians to settle in Fener, where they prospered and became wealthy. Many bankers, merchants, diplomats and shipowners who became known as the Phanariots became generous benefactors to the church and to the community.

Sitting on a hill above St George’s Church is Fener Greek Orthodox College, also known as the Red School due to its imposing red brick facade. The school was built a year after the fall of Constantinople, but not in the form we see today. Under the direction of Patriarch Gennadios Scholarios, who was the first Patriarch under Ottoman rule, it was built as an educational arm to the Patriarchy, with donations from the Phanariots. The wooden buildings of Istanbul were prone to catching fire, and the school was no different. The Phanariots came to the rescue again, seeing each destructive event as an opportunity to rebuild and remodel the school (and to leave their own mark and legacy).

In the mid-19th century, a few big shifts were taking place that sparked a revival of Greek culture in Constantinople. The Ottoman Empire was rolling out reforms aimed at modernising the state, and for the first time, non-Muslims were granted equal legal status. For Orthodox Christians, this opened the door to invest in churches and schools, and to take a more active role in trade and politics. The result was a flourishing cultural and intellectual life.

At the same time, Greece had just won its independence from the Ottomans in 1830 after nearly four centuries of rule. Out of this victory grew a powerful vision known as the Megali Idea (the “Great Idea”) — the dream of uniting all Greek lands, including Constantinople itself. One outcome of this new confidence and ambition was the construction of the Orthodox College we see today. Built in 1881 from striking red bricks imported from France, it quickly became a symbol of both learning and pride for the city’s Greek community. What an incredible piece of architecture it is.

I’m not going to lie, the climb up from St George’s Church on uneven cobbles and on a 2:1 incline was a challenge – especially in the midday heat. Halfway up, I had to top up with water, which swiftly made its way out through my pores in an instant. This picture, looking back down, may indicate the challenge of the climb. Nonetheless, I was in architecture heaven, which was a great distraction from the discomfort.

Behind the Red School are several different vantage points from which to view the architecture of the building. Whilst doing so, we came across a small Church called the Church of St Mary of the Mongols or Meryem Ana Rum Ortodox Kilisesi. Maria Palaiologina was a Byzantine princess and the daughter of Emperor Michael VIII. She was married off to Abaqa Khan, ruler of the Mongol Ilkhanate in Persia, to cement a political alliance. Widowed young, she returned to Constantinople and founded a convent here, which became her lasting legacy.

Tucked away in a little corner, it is easy to miss, but this church has a remarkable claim. It’s the only Byzantine church in the city never converted into a mosque after 1453. It is known locally as the Bloody Church (Kanli Kalisi) because of the fighting that raged here during the Ottoman conquest, but it has remained in continuous use by the Greek Orthodox community. The Byzantine symbol of the double-headed eagle can just about be made out in the stone plaque above the door.

After exploring Fener, we slowly weaved our way through the cobbled streets into nearby Balat. In fact, they merged so seamlessly that I wasn’t sure at which point we made the transition. Balat occupies the lower slopes of the fourth hill in Istanbul. The name Balat is believed to come from the Greek word ‘Palation’, meaning palace, and which refers to the nearby Blachernae Palace of the Byzantine emperors.

It was traditionally home to the Jewish community, particularly Sephardic Jews who arrived after their expulsion from Spain in 1492. Development of the area along the Golden Horn and also the creation of the State of Israel saw a slow decline in the Jewish population here. What it is now famous for, though, is its labyrinth of colourful wooden houses, steep cobbled lanes and as prime Instagram territory – honestly, there were bodies draped over every set of steps with a vibrantly coloured facade! Yes, the vivid colours were picturesque, but my favourites of all were the old wooden houses that had been left as they were, with a little touch of patina and decay.

Both Fener and Balat are UNESCO-protected for their multi-ethnic heritage (Greek, Jewish, Armenian, Muslim).

It’s also worth mentioning that there are a couple of Greek restaurants in and around Balat. Had the heat not drained me of my appetite, we would have sampled their wares – but not today.

Back down at ground level, we wandered through an eclectic mix of buildings along a street that was now home to trendy cafe bars, antique shops and traditional bakeries. The area has recently become popular with artists, café culture, and boutique businesses — I guess gentrification manifests itself wherever there’s a business opportunity. The place has a real bohemian vibe.

This part of Istanbul must definitely not be missed. You could spend the whole day taking a slow amble around the gorgeous houses and resting in one of the many cafes along the way. For us, we jumped back on the tram to Eminomu and whilst there had a quick whip around the Egyptian Spice Market. Peter was curious as an Egyptian to see how authentic it was, but of course, it was a very carefully and beautifully curated display of products at an inflated tourist price. We won’t be buying any saffron from here at those prices! However, the interior of the building is quite something. You will find the Egyptian spice market close to the impressive Yeni Cami Mosque.

Later that evening, we decided to eat at our hotel’s restaurant called En La Luna. We had haidari, similar to tzatziki with bread to start. Peter had a mixed grill whilst I had the Sultan’s kebab. Here, Yeni Raki was 1000TL for a 200ml bottle – about £18. Much more expensive than an equivalent bottle of ouzo, but much better priced than the 2500-3000TL at other places. I’m going to assume that alcohol is taxed very highly in Turkey, but the cost of living here has also increased dramatically over the last few years. To finish the meal, Peter had baklava, and I had a chocolate soufflé. The meal came to 4960TL, which converts to around £90. Turkey is no longer the place to go for a good value holiday – but then we don’t travel because it’s cheap – we travel to enrich our souls and satisfy our quest for knowledge, and Istanbul is doing that in bucket loads!