Istanbul

A Greek colony called Byzantion was founded on the point where the Golden Horn meets the Sea of Marmara in the 7th century BC, on a site whose defences and control of the strait mattered more than its size. In 330 AD Constantine the Great refounded it as his new capital, and as Constantinople it became the richest city in Europe: the seat of the Eastern Roman emperors, the centre of Orthodox Christianity, and the place where Justinian raised Hagia Sophia in 537. Walls built under Theodosius II kept out siege after siege for a thousand years.

On 29 May 1453, after a siege of several weeks, the army of the Ottoman sultan Mehmed II broke through the walls. Constantinople became the Ottoman capital and was repopulated with Turks, Greeks, Armenians and Jews, many of the last invited after their expulsion from Spain. Sultans and their architects, above all Mimar Sinan in the 16th century, filled the hills with mosque complexes, and Topkapı governed an empire across three continents. By the 19th century the sultans had moved to European-style palaces on the Bosphorus, and Pera, today's Beyoğlu, filled with embassies, banks and the terminus of the Orient Express.

Allied troops occupied the city after the First World War, and when the republic was declared in 1923 the capital moved to Ankara; the name Istanbul became official in 1930. Its Greek, Armenian and Jewish communities shrank through the 20th century, sharply after the riots of September 1955. From the 1950s migrants from Anatolia arrived in enormous numbers and the population grew from about a million to more than fifteen, spreading the city far along both shores.

Istanbul produces most of Turkey's books, films, newspapers and television, and its dialect is the basis of standard Turkish. The city's manners — fast, ironic, formally polite — are admired and resented in equal measure elsewhere in the country. Hospitality is unfailing: tea arrives before business is discussed, and refusing it is harder than accepting.

Religion is present but unevenly. Call to prayer sounds over every district, Friday fills the great mosques, and Ramadan changes the rhythm of the whole city, yet Beyoğlu and Kadıköy keep a secular, alcohol-drinking nightlife a few kilometres away from conservative Fatih and Üsküdar. The Ecumenical Patriarchate of the Orthodox Church still sits at Fener on the Golden Horn, and Armenian churches, synagogues and Catholic churches survive among the mosques, remnants of a far more mixed population.

Music runs from Ottoman classical and Sufi ceremonies to Turkish pop, arabesk, rock and a large electronic scene; the summer festivals bring international acts to open-air stages. Football divides the city three ways between Galatasaray, Fenerbahçe and Beşiktaş, and derby days empty the streets. The hamam, the public bathhouse, remains a working institution as well as a tourist experience, and backgammon, card games and long conversations over tea in a kıraathane are the standard way of passing an afternoon.

About fifteen million people live in the province, making it the largest city in Europe by population. Most live far from the historic centre, in dense apartment districts that run for tens of kilometres along both shores and inland, and daily life is defined by the commute: metrobus, Marmaray, metro and ferry, or an hour in traffic on one of the Bosphorus bridges. Rents have risen faster than wages, and many households share flats or live with family for longer than they once did.

The city generates a large share of the national economy — finance, trade, media, textiles, shipping and tourism — and its port and airport handle much of Turkey's traffic with the world. Work runs late, shops stay open into the evening, and breakfast, a long spread of cheeses, olives, eggs and bread, is the meal families take seriously at weekends.

Two issues sit constantly in the background. One is the expected earthquake on the fault beneath the Sea of Marmara, which drives a continuing programme of demolition and rebuilding of older blocks. The other is the pressure of growth: water supply, traffic, building on the northern forests and the arrival of large numbers of migrants and refugees are all argued over in local politics. Weekends mean family breakfasts, the ferry, the seaside promenades and picnics in whatever green space is nearest.

Istanbul's kitchen gathered the whole empire and then the whole country. The day begins with simit, the sesame-crusted bread ring sold from red carts, or with a full kahvaltı breakfast of white cheese, olives, tomato, honey and clotted kaymak. Street food is a serious business: balık ekmek, grilled fish in bread at the Eminönü quay; midye dolma, mussels stuffed with spiced rice and squeezed with lemon; kokoreç, seasoned offal grilled on a spit and chopped into bread; and kumpir, a baked potato mashed with butter and cheese, associated with Ortaköy.

Sit-down eating runs from the lokanta, where ready-cooked stews and vegetables in olive oil are chosen from a counter, to the meyhane, where small plates of meze — stuffed vine leaves, smoked aubergine, fried liver, hummus — are eaten slowly with rakı, the aniseed spirit that clouds when water is added. Kebab houses serve Adana and Urfa from the south-east; palace cooking survives in dishes such as hünkar beğendi, lamb stew over a smoky aubergine purée. Fish is seasonal, with bluefish and bonito from the autumn Bosphorus runs.

Sweets and drinks are their own world: baklava in pistachio and walnut, künefe of shredded pastry and stretchy cheese, milk puddings such as sütlaç and the caramelised kazandibi, and lokum from confectioners trading since Ottoman times. Turkish coffee is served in small cups with a glass of water, tea arrives in tulip-shaped glasses all day, and in winter street sellers carry boza, a thick fermented millet drink dusted with cinnamon.