Four Seasons Hotel Istanbul at Sultanahmet

Istanbul is a glorious city—marvelous in its architecture, profound in its history, and exciting in its cuisine. And now, at last, there is a proper place to stay and enjoy it all… in a former jail. But what a jail it is. Certainly, our idea of a penitentiary doesn’t include a delicate, lemon-yellow Neo-Classical facade, complete with archways, balustrades and columns at every turn. The entrance, meanwhile, with its elaborately worked limestone detailing, is enthralling.

In many ways, this is not your typical Four Seasons hotel. Certainly, in terms of design, the Four Seasons Istanbul is more interesting than many of her sisters. Throughout, carpets, antiques, and hand-woven Ottoman tapestries abound, alongside ochre stonework, tiled tabletops, and floors inlaid with Turkish geometric designs. The wood and the wrought iron are native and the distressed paint work on the walls done by hand with a spatula, just like artisans did it in Ottoman palaces for centuries.

The Four Seasons Istanbul is also tiny, with just sixty-odd rooms. But despite its size, it has managed to have more windows that any other Four Seasons hotel. And every window has a front row view of the two most beautiful buildings in the city—the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia.

Service is dreamy. The 24-hour staff will get you anything and everything—strawberries with your champagne, a private helicopter, and at tip-top speed. It’s pretty typical for Four Seasons, but in this city, it’s unsurpassed. And though you’re surrounded by cloisonné trinkets and hand-woven kilims, it’s always nice to know that the Four Seasons mattress, considered by many to be the best, is the same in Istanbul as it is in Austin. And if sleeping in someone’s old cell still disconcerts you, you can take heart. Only the cream of the jailbird crop stayed here. It was reserved for writers, artists, and aristocrats only, and was even immortalized by Graham Greene in Stamboul Train. So as a Four Seasons guest, you’re joining a roster that is both good and proud. Besides, the sight of Hagia Sophia in the morning mist, so close you can almost touch its onion domes, is enough to make prisoners of us all.