Three Months in Kadıköy: Heatwaves, Pickleball, and a Cowboy Driver

Our Turkish adventure began with a quiet midnight arrival at Istanbul Airport. Immigration was smooth, the bags were ready and waiting, and we found our pickup service without a hitch at Door 8. Things were off to an efficient start—until we met our driver.

A self-styled cowboy behind the wheel, he had us careening through Istanbul's late-night streets. I sat backward in the van, facing the other guests, channeling every ounce of willpower to keep my motion sickness at bay. D, in the front passenger seat, looked stoically ahead while I craned my neck to confirm he’d buckled his seatbelt. (Of course, we were the only ones wearing them. 🤦🏽‍♀️ Safety first, folks.) Luckily, our journey to the hotel was mercifully short—just long enough for me to realize I should have taken Bonine ahead of the journey.

The next day, we returned to the airport and took the metro to Kadıköy, a bustling and vibrant district on Istanbul's Asian side. The journey involved multiple stops, including a brief encounter with two enterprising kids—one playing an accordion and the other collecting money. The younger of the two fist-pumped everyone on the metro, tugging at D’s sleeve for a donation, but we held firm on our policy against child exploitation. Cute? Yes. Concerning? Absolutely.

The Airbnb was perfectly located, near the water (Marmara Sea) and a lovely park, which we immediately adopted as our outdoor workout space. And while frequenting the park, we discovered a completely different pastime: attempting to avoid the very friendly stray dogs in the park. They weren’t just friendly; they were overly friendly. As soon as we tried to stretch, jog, or even sit down, one of them would saunter over, plop down next to us, and give us those “I’m your new best friend” eyes. After a workout, one particularly determined dog tried to make itself comfortable by plopping right down on my towel in the grass. I briefly considered surrendering my spot, but managed to shoo it off—after all, a towel is a precious post-workout commodity!

Life in the Sweatbox
The Airbnb itself was...an experience. By July 5th, I had officially deemed it unlivable. Imagine a fifth-floor apartment (sixth-floor in US terms) with no air conditioning during a heatwave. We kept every possible window open for airflow, which invited a cacophony of city sounds and, occasionally, rainstorms that turned the hallway floor into a hazard zone.

One afternoon, during a particularly dramatic storm, I warned D about the wet floor and then promptly forgot my own advice. Cue a spectacular fall that left me sprawled on the tile, the wind knocked out of me, and tears streaming down my face. D rushed over with pillows, proving once again he’s my MVP. The bruises to my ribs and hip (but luckily not my head) lasted for days; my resentment toward the apartment, far longer.

Sleeping there was a cruel joke. With temperatures hovering around 85°F (29°C) by 8:30 AM, nights were brutal. One night, I took an ice-cold shower fully clothed, only to dry off within 15 minutes from the sheer heat. By the end of the first month, I was surviving on two-hour naps and a diet of frustration.

Salvation with A/C
On July 19th, we moved. The new apartment had air conditioning, and it was as if we’d entered paradise. For the first time in weeks, I could sleep with a sheet—a luxury I hadn’t realized I’d missed so dearly. Sure, there were weekly power outages and an unnerving police presence in full combat gear stationed outside, but compared to the previous sweatbox, this place was a dream. (Actually, it was a really nice apartment and we'd definitely visit it again.)

The new neighborhood–a mere 5-minute walk from the other one–offered unexpected delights, including a courtyard with kittens and an equally easy walk to the Marmara Sea. During one of our walks through the city, I stumbled upon a bronze-cast news scene on the sidewalk and spent quiet mornings watching the city wake up. For the first time, I felt the peace I’d been craving since our arrival.

Quirks, Culture, and Curious Encounters
Kadıköy is a treasure trove of experiences. We walked miles to the beaches, explored shopping streets, and found a pottery studio that might become a creative outlet. (Alas, that did not work out, and I was pottery-starved for 3 months!) Stray dogs in the park were friendlier than expected—borderline too friendly—and grocery stores ranged from grimy to slightly less grimy (yes, they were disappointing), with some offering incredible produce despite their appearances.

There was the incident, where I had to intervene when the preparer of my veggie burger touched the bun with ungloved hands. (Um, gross!) There was also the bakery where we discovered flatbreads, breakfast pastries, and stuffed grape leaves that became staples of our diet. We also frequented Zapata Burger, the local burger joint–yes, we're now eating a traditional diet–and an amazing falafel joint called NoHut, where the owner welcomed us with tea and free testers.

A Summer Feast of Fruits in Istanbul

One of the unexpected joys of spending a summer in Istanbul is the bounty of fresh, local fruits that seem to embody the very essence of the season. Walking through the streets, you might stumble upon cherry trees offering their ruby-red gems for free. Yes, you read that right—cherries, ripe and sweet, growing from trees scattered throughout the city, like nature's generous little surprises. It was impossible to resist stopping for a quick snack right off the branch.

And then there were the figs. Oh, the figs. These weren’t your average, puny grocery store finds. These were figs the size of my palm, bursting with flavor so rich and sweet that eating one felt almost indulgent. Their velvety skin hid a treasure trove of soft, honeyed flesh, perfect for a mid-morning treat or a post-dinner dessert.

As the summer rolled on and our time in Istanbul drew to a close, the pomegranates began to mature. Their ruby seeds promised tart, juicy goodness, hinting at the transition to autumn. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy for those who’d get to enjoy them fully ripened.

Of course, the markets were overflowing with other local delights—peaches so fragrant they perfumed the air around them, and plums in every shade of red and purple, their sweetness tempered by just the right amount of tang. Each fruit was a testament to the region’s incredible agricultural heritage, a celebration of flavor and abundance.

And then, there were the bananas. Not local and noticeably pricier, they were our one regular splurge. We relied on them for our pre-workout fuel—quick, convenient, and packed with energy. Maybe it was the heat or the physical exertion of the summer days, but those bananas, despite their imported origins, became essential.

Every piece of fruit felt like a little piece of Istanbul’s soul—simple, delicious, and unforgettable.

Final Reflections
This three-month journey was a mix of heat-induced misery, surprising discoveries, and moments of serenity. Kadıköy has a rhythm of life that’s equal parts chaotic and charming. From cowboy drivers to kitten-filled parks, this district left an indelible mark on us.

Would I recommend a summer stay in Kadıköy? Absolutely, but only if your Airbnb has A/C and your travel bag includes some chill.