Istanbul

With just thin cotton covering my modesty, I obey Karim, my stern white-haired masseur, before he sets about drenching me in cold water and scouring my skin head to toe with a cloth mitt.

Hardly a prude, it takes some convincing before I agree to visit a traditional Turkish hamam. The arm-twisting continues now I am inside, as scantily-clad Karim flips me over like a rag doll before conjuring a cloud of soap suds and setting about the real work - removing the knots and aches from my weary limbs with a brusque, hard massage.

Only when it's all over and I'm left on my back to steam and relax do I get a chance to really appreciate my surroundings. Cemberlitas Hamami is one of the oldest hamams in Istanbul, commissioned by the wife of Sultan Selim II in 1584 and built by Sinan, the chief architect behind some of Turkey's greatest mosques. A relic of the Ottoman era, its services are in demand as much today as they ever were and offer a welcome release after a long afternoon exploring the nearby labyrinthine Grand Bazaar and Spice Market.

Istanbul has the distinction of being the only city in the world to straddle two continents, a fault line where East and West grind and bristle against each other in a schizophrenic clash of modernity and tradition, secularism and religion.

When we arrive, the city is in the final throes of Ramadan. In the cool twilight, the modern trams that snake through the narrow streets of the Sultanahmet ferry thousands of people to the Hippodrome to break fast daily. A carnival atmosphere is rife. Extended families meet and sit with picnic suppers or mill around market stalls where sticky sweets and baklava are doled out to ravenous, wide-eyed youngsters.

Even from the vantage point of our hotel roof terrace, the whir of the crowds and the sound of muezzins calling Istanbulus to evening prayers echoes around the Bosphorus. Named after a former Grand Vizier whose palace lies opposite, Hotel Ibrabim Pasha is a smart boutique hotel tucked down a quiet street in the centre of the city's old district. A stone's throw away, the Blue Mosque towers into view between the terrace and the Sea of Marmara beyond. It's an ideal base for delving into Istanbul's many millennia of history.

Alongside the many faithful devotees entering to attend Ramadan prayers, we make the Blue Mosque the first stop of the day. Intended to rival the neighbouring Hagia Sophia, it was controversially built with six minarets - a feature previously only found in Mecca. Arguably falling short in their task, the architects did make the interior design of the mosque especially beguiling. The initial feeling of intrusion or visiting during prayer time immediately melts away while looking up at the hundreds of thousands of blue Iznik tiles lining the inside, made only more atmospheric by the imam reading aloud from the Quran.

My prior knowledge of the Hagia Sophia, or Aya Sofya, was limited to the Cold War intrigue of From Russia With Love. The image of Sean Connery's 007 stealthily ducking behind its pillars has long been replaced by thousands of ambling tourists. And rightfully so. The Hagia Sophia is one of the last great wonders of the world and Istanbul's crowning jewel. Built first as a Christian church, converted to a mosque and now existing as a museum, the cavernous nave and dome house some spectacular original gold mosaics.

In search of more shade, we next duck into the Basilica cistern. A 1,500-year-old marvel of Byzantine engineering, the cistern once provided fresh water to the palace above. Nowadays, the underground chamber feels more like a time capsule, with carp patrolling the dark water underfoot.

Aside from navigating the streets, one of the better ways to experience Istanbul is by water. There are many Bosphorus Strait boat tours on offer but we opt, like locals, to make a return trip on the commuter boat from Eminönü to Üsküdar on the Asian side. It's a short but breathtaking voyage. The sea air soon whets our appetite so we set off to Beyolu for a bite at one of its many vaunted taverns and rooftop restaurants.

On seeing the hordes along Istikal Caddesi, the main thoroughfare, we make a hasty retreat and wander off the beaten track in search of dinner. Our detour proves to be yet another pointed reminder of the city's Janus personality; beyond busy main streets of young Turks, there are backstreets of old men under billows of cigarette smoke, playing backgammon and swilling tea.

David Walsh was a guest of Turkish Airlines and the Hotel Ibrahim Pasha