(Photo Credit: Depositphotos.com)
Traveling through Turkey, I quickly realized the true locals aren’t just the people—they’re the cats. From Istanbul’s colorful bazaars to Cappadocia’s dreamlike fairy chimneys and Çeşme’s shimmering turquoise waters, cats wander freely as cherished “citizens,” moving with the confidence of a population that knows it belongs. Rooted in Islamic tradition, maritime history, and Ottoman culture, these feline companions embody independence, resilience, and everyday joy.
Everywhere I went, people were tuned into the cats’ presence. No one necessarily owns them—yet everyone cares for them. I watched a man weave through the Grand Bazaar with an enormous sack of kibble slung over his shoulder, stopping to feed strays between the jewelry stalls and carpet shops. In Aphrodisias, as tourists wandered the Roman ruins, a bus driver waiting for his passengers quietly scattered food for a cluster of expectant cats in the parking lot. On a quiet road on the Urla Peninsula, a businessman in a crisp suit pulled over, popped open his trunk and retrieved an entire box of cat food for the neighborhood’s feline residents.
Each destination in Turkey offers its own glimpse into how deeply woven cats are into the country’s identity—lounging on ancient stones, threading through markets, or soaking up the sun on waterfront promenades. They are living reminders that history isn’t only told through monuments and museums, but also through the creatures who inhabit a place, shape its rhythms, and make you feel unexpectedly at home.
Istanbul: Where Tradition Begins
In Islam, cats are cherished companions; the Prophet Muhammad is said to have once cut off part of his robe rather than wake a sleeping cat. The city reflects this reverence. Ottoman-era mosques open seamlessly to courtyards where birds, trees—and cats—live among worshipers. The acclaimed documentary Kedi (“Cat”) captures this soul of Istanbul through its street cats.
Istanbul Grand Bazaar
One morning in the Grand Bazaar, while sipping a strong Turkish coffee, I noticed an orange-and-white tabby eyeing the scene from a high ledge like a benevolent overseer.
Istanbul (Outside Hagia)
A tabby enjoying her perch outside the Hagia Sophia (left). Even my hotel, the Conrad Istanbul Bosphorus, had a resident cat who clearly felt no need to check in with reception.
Cappadocia: Cats of the Dreamworld
Among fairy chimneys and cave dwellings, Cappadocia’s cats look almost mythical themselves. Their presence reflects the region’s long history of resilience and refuge: underground cities once sheltered entire populations, just as locals now provide food and shelter for cats. In Turkish folklore, cats often serve as mystical guides—fitting in a landscape where the line between earth and dream is blurred. Maybe that’s why cats seem perfectly at home here.
Cappadocia Hotel
I met several cats at the Cappadocia Cave Suites, where they played on the terrace with the arid, cave-pocked scenery beyond. The landscape looked so surreal, I half-expected them to slip through a portal in the rock.
Cappadocia
As I walked around the town of Göreme, I spied a long-haired beauty holding court at a pottery shop, watching tourists with the stillness of an oracle who has seen centuries pass.
Bodrum: Aristocrats of the Harbor
Once the port of ancient Halicarnassus, Bodrum carries the legacy of cats as maritime guardians. Ships along the trade routes relied on them to protect precious cargo from rats, and their descendants still stroll the harbors and lounge by the Aegean’s turquoise waters. Today, they remain symbols of coastal life—half watchful guardians, half sun-bathing aristocrats.
Bodrom
One sleek gray-and-white cat posed against the whitewashed skyline like a model on assignment.
Bodrom
An orange-and-white tabby (left) greeted me among the ancient columns at the ruins of the Theater at Halicarnassus.
Ephesus & Selçuk: Guardians of Memory
In and around Ephesus and Selçuk, history and cats are inseparable. Among the great marble avenues where philosophers once debated and trade caravans once arrived from every corner of the ancient world, cats lounge across stones polished smooth by centuries, as if they, too, are guardians of the past. In sacred spaces and old neighborhoods of Selçuk, they weave between archways and courtyards with an ease that suggests long-standing acceptance.
Ephesus
Many cats sunned on Ephesus’s ancient pillars and statues, seemingly obvious to the ancient history around them.
Selcuk
Selcuk -- St.John
Among the furry greeters I met in Selçuk were a little tabby peering out of an ornate grate (above) and a friendly cat hanging out at the Basilica of St. John.
Çeşme: Protection & Leisure
In the breezy Aegean resort town of Ceşme, cats bask on fortress walls and stroll the marina with the ease of seasoned sailors. Their presence recalls Turkey’s seafaring past, when cats traveled on Ottoman ships as indispensable pest-controllers. Today, they remain symbols of protection, independence, and leisure—perfectly at home in both ancient fortifications and modern seaside cafés.
Cesme (Cafe)
At one café, a black-and-white cat joined me, purring loudly as I sipped coffee and wrote.
Cesme
Another local kitty waited along the esplanade for a fishy handout.
Izmir: Renewal, Written in Pawprints
Modern Izmir rose from the ashes of the catastrophic 1922 fire—and the cats rose with it. Today, they are everywhere along the seaside Kordon and beyond: sleeping on bench backs, padding into bookstores, and wandering along café-lined boulevards.
Izmir
I stopped to pet a calico sunning on a windowsill. A woman smiled and launched into animated description—no doubt about the neighborhood cat and her adventures. I didn’t speak a word of Turkish, but I didn’t need to. Cat people speak fluent cat.
Author Bio:
Highbrow Magazine Contributing Writer Barbara Noe Kennedy is an award-winning writer and editor, who specializes in travel writing. She worked for more than 20 years for the National Geographic Book Division, and she has also written for the Washington Post, National Geographic Traveler, the Los Angeles Times, and Fodor's -- in addition to penning a few books -- including 25 Joys of Paris, which was published recently. She is also a Lowell Thomas travel journalism award winner. Barbara has traveled extensively around the world and, along with her husband, is actively involved in helping Zambian students achieve their education and career goals. She writes travel articles for Highbrow Magazine.
For Highbrow Magazine
(Photo Credits: Barbara Noe Kennedy and Depositphotos.com)