Zeyrek Cinili Hammam revives Ottoman bathhouse culture in Türkiye’s Istanbul

The Zeyrek Cinili hammam stands as a beacon of cultural revival in the heart of Istanbul's historic Zeyrek neighborhood, where traditional life pulses through narrow streets and local shops.

The Zeyrek neighborhood of Istanbul is a quintessential residential area, where life unfolds at a leisurely pace, Caliber.Az reports, citing foreign media.

Men engage in spirited games of backgammon on makeshift tables, and discarded vegetable crates line the streets, adding a rustic charm. The neighborhood’s array of grocers, butchers, and spice shops, each vying for a few patrons, creates a mosaic of everyday commerce.  

As I turn onto Itfaiye Street, my gaze is drawn to a series of silver domes rising against the horizon. Below them, at the Zeyrek Cinili hammam, a lively scene is unfolding. Groups of friends and solitary tourists gather near the arched stone entrance, some with slicked-back hair and others with large bags stuffed with towels and exfoliation scrubs.  

The vibrant activity around the newly restored 16th-century bathhouse is a testament to a broader cultural revival in Istanbul—the resurgence of the historic hammam tradition. Hammams, where the traditional communal bathing ritual of being cleansed and scrubbed by an attendant once thrived, were central to Ottoman society.

These bathhouses, originally state-run, fell out of favor in Istanbul during the 19th and 20th centuries, many either closing or being acquired by private entities.   In the past decade, however, there has been a notable resurgence in interest. Several hammams have been meticulously restored to cater to growing demand for this historic practice. Among these, the Zeyrek Cinili hammam stands out as the most impressive. After nearly 13 years of restoration, the project included the excavation of Byzantine cisterns beneath the structure and the creation of a museum dedicated to hammam culture.  

Other significant restorations include the 16th-century Kilic Ali Pasa hammam, which reopened in 2012 after a seven-year renovation, and the 19th-century Cukurcuma hammam, which resumed operations in 2018 following extensive renovations that began in 2007.   Luxury hotels have also embraced the hammam tradition, incorporating it into their offerings. High-end establishments such as the Four Seasons Sultanahmet, Shangri-La Bosphorus, and Six Senses Kocatas Mansions feature their own opulent marble bathhouses, highlighting the enduring allure of this age-old ritual. Curious about the buzz, I step into the sogukluk, or cold room, of the women’s section at Zeyrek Cinili.

This area serves as a place for bathers to hydrate before their treatments and to unwind and socialize afterward. Most bathhouses feature separate sections for men and women, although some smaller establishments alternate hours for each gender.   Koza Gureli Yazgan, the director of Zeyrek Cinili hammam, greets me in the cold room before my treatment begins. Alongside her now-retired mother, Yazgan has been instrumental in the ambitious restoration project.   “Renovations were originally expected to take three years, but we kept uncovering new discoveries,” Yazgan recounts.

Among these were the Byzantine cisterns, a series of elaborate galleon carvings, and a variety of archaeological artifacts that required careful excavation.   Driven by a commitment to honor the historical and cultural significance of the hammam, Yazgan and her mother extended their timeline to meticulously restore each find.

“Our goal was to preserve and celebrate the tradition of this regional wellness practice,” she says. “That’s why we renovated the hammam using traditional Marmara marble and maintained original design elements, including the ornate tiles — or cinili — that inspired the bathhouse’s name.” The walls of the Zeyrek Cinili hammam once shimmered with cerulean tiles, but only six remain in the women’s section today. The rest were either lost over time or transferred to European museums long ago.   “While some modern hammams have adapted to contemporary tastes, our guests seek an authentic immersion into the historical and cultural essence of the bathhouses,” Yazgan explains. “We strive to preserve the traditional ambiance and rituals, allowing visitors to connect with the centuries-old legacy of this practice.”  

Upon entering the cold room, I am greeted with a refreshing glass of cold sherbet, a customary drink meant to hydrate and prepare guests for their treatments. After finishing the drink, I head to the changing rooms, where I undress and wrap myself in a pesthemal—a traditional lightweight cotton towel.   As I step into the sicaklik (hot room), I am awestruck by the grandeur of the space.

The high domed ceilings are adorned with star-shaped apertures through which sunlight streams, creating a dazzling interplay of light across the marble surfaces.   Around me, women relax on heated stone slabs or recline on marble steps, their attendants scrubbing them with practiced ease. The soft murmur of conversation and laughter fills the air, punctuated by the soothing sounds of flowing water.   My attendant directs me to lie on the central hexagonal table to acclimate to the heat.

After ten minutes, she leads me to a brass washing basin, where she begins a thorough exfoliation with a kese, a traditional rough mitt designed to invigorate and cleanse the skin. Mounds of frothy soap are poured over me, and the attendants’ nimble hands swiftly massage my legs. After a thorough scrubbing, a cascade of cold water rinses away the soap, leaving me refreshed and clean. I’m then escorted back to the cold room to relax.   Reclining in a cushioned alcove, I observe groups of friends chatting animatedly and a mother and daughter exchanging playful banter in the corner.   Kate Fleet, director of the Skilliter Centre for Ottoman Studies at the University of Cambridge, elaborates on the historical significance of hammams. “Hammams have long been central to social life in Ottoman society. The practice of cleansing oneself holds great importance in Islam, making bathhouses crucial communal spaces,” Fleet explains.  

Hammams served as vibrant hubs for socializing, conducting business, and celebrating significant life events, such as weddings or births. Fleet notes that these spaces were particularly important for women, who could visit hammams independently and engage with other women outside their family circles.   “While there was certainly socializing and gossiping, there were also discussions on business and politics,” Fleet says. “In the 19th century, there was considerable concern that hammams were places where both men and women voiced dissent and criticized the Sultan.”