Istanbul is slowly setting into autumn, making it the perfect time to explore the districts of Fener and Balat. Many flock to the neighborhood just to take a stroll and look at the quaint buildings. But I find that, when I'm equipped with some basic knowledge about the history of these neighborhoods, it becomes one of the most fascinating tours you can take in the city.

While actually two different neighborhoods with very different histories, the names "Fener" and "Balat" have now become almost interchangeable. The name Fener comes from the Greek name "Fanarion," meaning lighthouse, suggesting that there was a lighthouse nearby. This was because Fanarion, and later Fener, was a trade hub that received a lot of sea traffic due to its position on the coast of the Golden Horn. Tülay Artan in the TDV Islam Encyclopedia explains that, following the fall of Constantinople, the Byzantine nobility escaped to Europe and the Mediterranean in droves. When Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror declared religious freedom for all inhabitants of the new empire, they began to return to Istanbul and many settled in Fener. The residents of the Greek-majority neighborhood became known as Fanariots, a class of people who were well-educated, cultured and often wealthy tradespeople. Many were employed by the Ottoman state as translators and foreign dignitaries.

Meanwhile, Balat was a famous Jewish neighborhood. Turkish art historian Semavi Eyice notes in the Istanbul Encyclopedia that some theorize that it was a Jewish neighborhood even in the Byzantine era. What we know for certain is that after the fall of Constantinople, Jewish citizens from different lands, including Spain, Italy, Macedonia and Rhodes, came in waves to settle here. The neighborhood was a lively commercial hub, full of Jewish-owned stores and workshops, from glassmakers, antique dealers to fez makers. Today the area still hosts some major synagogues, but there are some hurdles to jump to get the chance to visit them. If you have the chance, join a private tour guide that has a good relationship with the synagogues there. They’re worth a day trip just on their own! Today, I’m going to be focusing on what I can get into easily on foot, keeping the budget low.

Patriarchate of Constantinople

I start in the late morning by heading to the most important building in the neighborhood, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Constantinople.

You may be familiar with the old building of this ancient organization: the Hagia Sofia, now known as Hagia Sophia Grand Mosque. The official religion of the Byzantine Empire was the creed of the Eastern Orthodox Church, under the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople. After the fall of Constantinople, the patriarchate moved many times until finally, in 1602, it moved to the Monastery of St. George, where it sits today.

I'm visiting the church of the complex, St. George's Cathedral, which is right next to the patriarchate building. While it has sat at this location for centuries, the building itself is not that ancient. Zafer Karaca in the Istanbul Encyclopedia notes that little remains of the original building after extensive restoration, and a lot of what exists today is from the 18th and 19th centuries. However, due to its connection to the patriarchate, the building contains many priceless artifacts that are seen as holy by Christians. Such as a stone believed to have been part of the rock that Jesus was tied to and whipped, and three coffins containing relics from St. Euphemia and two of her followers. In fact, most of St. Euphemia's relics are believed to be contained in this church.

I think any visitor to Istanbul needs to see this bastion of an organization that has been around since 330 A.D. The church is open to visitors between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. Its entry is free of cost, however, taking care of such old buildings costs a fortune, so please leave a donation if you can spare it.

The Greek Orthodox School

This tall redbrick monument, rising ostentatiously amid the hodgepodge of houses, can be seen as far as the Galata Tower. You might mistake it for a patriarchate, but in fact, it is just a school. I like to imagine that this is what Harry Potter's Hogwarts actually looked like.

According to Engin Yenal in "Bir Kent: Istanbul 101 Yapı," many of Fener's noble families were pushed out in the 1830s after they secretly supported the Greek independence movement. The Greek bankers of Galata quickly replaced them as the top dogs. In 1881, several powerful Galata bankers came together to have this school built on a steep slope just behind the patriarchate.

The building is closed to the public, but honestly, it's the exterior that is most worth seeing: a three-storied building topped with towers, covered in bright red bricks and built in the most impractical location in the city. The building is a celebration of the new rush for Greek nationalism: Patterns and embellishments from Ancient Greece, structural elements that evoke Byzantine architecture. But I wonder what the Feneriots would have thought about the gaudy taste of the nouveau-riche that replaced them.

Afterward, I head to Smelt&Co for lunch. As it is a tiny eatery with just four tables, I had to reserve a place a few days beforehand to secure my spot. It's an ambitious gastronomic restaurant that serves seasonal dishes. It serves no alcohol and instead focuses on an extensive kombucha menu. If you’re hungry in Balat and looking for an elegant experience, this is the place to go.

The Church of Sveti Stefan

The Church of Sveti Stefan, known in Turkish as simply "the Bulgarian Church," sits in the middle of a park on the coast of the Golden Horn. It's difficult to miss; its huge metal structure is in stark contrast to anything else in the city. The building is prefabricated, made mostly of cast iron elements forged in Vienna and shipped all the way to Istanbul.

The building also tells a story about the rise of nationalism and the changes it made to the spiritual life of the city. Again, I refer to Engin Yenal for this detail. The region that was to become Bulgaria was, during the Ottoman period, under the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. In the mid 19th century Bulgarians became influenced by nationalism, like many other ethnic groups. They found it problematic that they had to follow the authority of a majority Greek leadership and that their language of worship was Pontic Greek. In 1870 the Fourth Council of Constantinople granted the Bulgarians an autonomous Bulgarian archbishopric. Basically, they became semi-autonomous. Building a separate church for Bulgarians in Istanbul, so close to the patriarchate, was just another statement of their newfound autonomy.

While you're there, make sure to poke your head into the Camhane Art Center, a hub for all kinds of glassworks. As mentioned before, this part of the city has, for centuries, been known for a select number of trades. One of those trades was glassmaking and glassblowing, then a practical skill that has now become an artistic venture. The Camhane is an excellent spot to shop for unique art pieces while also supporting local artists. It also hosts the occasional workshop for those who want to get a little more hands-on. If none of that excites you, make sure to drop by just to look at the amazing pieces on display and the building itself, a gorgeous brick Greek house. Everyone who works there is very friendly.

Cumba houses

What puts Fener and Balat on the map is the quaint architecture of these neighborhoods. After the 20th century, the quintessential style of Istanbul residential architecture changed sharply. But the winds of change failed to blow in Fener and Balat, and it was lucky enough not to be replaced with the concrete sprawl that now covers most of Istanbul. Instead, it is filled with two-storied semi-attached wooden houses, each one jutting out sharply in the middle to form what Turks call a "cumba." Istanbulites from old would sit in these small, closed balconies, sip tea or coffee, and watch passersby.

You can see this style of residential architecture all over Fener-Balat, but the best place to take a good social media photo is, infamously, on Merdivenli Yokuş street (literally, "slope with stairs" street). Multicolored cumba houses sit in a row, waiting for Istanbul's many amateur photographers. That said, it can get rather busy, so try to visit it earlier in the day if possible. Today, I've arrived right after lunch, and it's packed.

Balat Mosque

Toward the end of the Balat quarterquarterquarter is Balat Mosque, also known as Ferruh Kethüda Mosque. What appears to be a humble neighborhood mosque was in fact built by the famous Ottoman architect Sinan, known as the most influential architect of the Ottoman period.

According to Baha Tanman in the TDV Islam Encylopedia, the building was built in 1563 as part of a dervish convent's complex. The mosque also functioned as the "Tevhidhane," or ritual room, of the convent. It's interesting to see a piece of work from Sinan's repertoire that was not a major imperial complex but instead intended for humble dervishes. Some details to keep your eyes peeled for are its gorgeous wooden ceiling and a small sundial on the southwest corner of the building.

The convent was dedicated to the dervishes of the Sünbüli branch of the Halveti sufi order and was used by them from 1563 until 1925. It's little details like this that let me fall in love with Turkey. A neighborhood's unassuming meeting point can turn out to be a building that was continuously used by the same group of people for 360 years. When all dervish lodges in the country were closed in 1925, the complex fell into disrepair. But today it's newly restored and looks lovely in the setting sun.

Coffee and antiques

After visiting the mosque, I turn back and head to Coffee Department, hands down the best cafe in a neighborhood full of them. The cafe serves beans freshly roasted from their roastery just a few blocks away. Each coffee you order comes with a small card that explains the coffee bean's flavor profile and origin. You may say that's "too hipster," but if you know your coffee preferences, you'll never get a cuppa you don't like here.

The cafe has gorgeous tall windows letting in plenty of daylight and sits right on the high street next to a quaint little church. In short, it's ideal for people-watching. In my time sitting on its porch, I've seen all kinds of sights: both priests and imams, hipsters and bare-foot children, expats in love with Turkey and Turks fluttering to go abroad.

But my favorite thing to watch is in the evening, when the cafe right opposite the street, "Lokasyon Balat," turns into an informal and chaotic antique auction. An auctioneer shouts at the bidding crowd that spills onto the street and absorbs curious passersby.

As I've mentioned before, Balat has actually been a location for antique selling since the Ottoman period. But the auction culture nowadays is one of the more bizarre things I've seen in the city, and really worth going to see just for the people-watching aspect. The strangest things go up for bidding. I've seen people go into bidding wars over literal trash: Gaudy ceramic cats, terrible paintings, broken electronics.

There's an auction going on in some corner of the neighborhood every evening. For Lokasyon Balat, you need to DM them on Instagram to learn the time and place for their auctions. But if that's too big a hurdle, another great spot to watch antique auctions is "Falan Filan Mezat," a cafe-and-auction-house that holds auctions every Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings.

Agora Meyhane

Turkish "meyhane" culture has been the praise of visitors to Istanbul since the time of Mehmed the Conqueror. Some theories even suggest the practice was a tie-over from the Byzantine era. The practice today involves slowly drinking rakı alongside plates and plates of small dishes designed to pair well with the beverage, called "meze," followed by fried dishes called "ara sıcak," finally to be finished off with fresh fish.

As they serve alcohol, meyhanes were run exclusively by non-Muslims, often Greeks and Armenians. Thus Fener-Balat has been known as a hub for meyhanes for centuries. It was ideal: A non-Muslim neighborhood on the coast of the Golden Horn, where fresh seafood was always to be found.

Agora Meyhane is one of Fener-Balat's few remaining taverns, a bastion of a by-gone era. Open since 1890, it was handed down from father to son for three generations. Nowadays, it's run by a new owner that tries to honor its Greek roots. It became particularly famous in the 1960s, and many artists and writers used it for inspiration. My favorite song about the tavern is "Agora Meyhanesi" by Zeki Müren, perhaps the most famous singer of Turkey's 60s.

You must be very careful when you visit, as there is another Agora Meyhane in the neighborhood that is not as good. Also, watch out for your pockets. Meyhane can get very expensive, but this one's worth the price.

After the 19th century, Balat went into steep decline and many of its Jewish citizens moved to Pera. Fener managed to keep onto its minority population until the 1940s, when Greek citizens slowly moved to other districts or left the country for Greece. Many of the buildings of the neighborhood fell into disrepair, becoming ruins. Turks from different regions of Anatolia moved into the neighborhood, looking for opportunities in the big city.

The Fener-Balat that I remember from my childhood was not one that I was excited to step into, full of ruined houses and drug trade. But nowadays, Fener-Balat is on the up and up. Nearly all the buildings in the neighborhood have been restored, and hip cafes are popping left and right. Now, perhaps, the danger is that we might push out even the newer residents from the neighborhood. In a few years, will we get to see lower and middle-income families running about the neighborhood? Or will another generation of residents have all gone? As I stand in front of Agora Meyhane, I'm grateful I got to see this version of Fener-Balat, perhaps, it will change once more.