Princes' Islands, Istanbul — Ferries, Islands & Day Trips

The Princes' Islands are the nine islands of Istanbul's Adalar district, of which four — Büyükada, Heybeliada, Burgazada, and Kınalıada — are served by regular ferries. No cars run here. The horse carriages that once did were retired in January 2020, and today you get around by bike, on foot, or in a small electric minibus. As a result, the loudest thing on most streets is a bicycle bell.

So which island should you pick? That question is most of the planning, and the honest answer depends on your pace. The islands are Istanbul's oldest escape hatch. In summer, for instance, the district swells from one of the city's smallest populations — around 16,300 people (TÜİK, 2023) — to many times that, as ferries pour day-trippers onto the waterfronts. Notably, a single day covers one island properly, or two at a push. Nobody does all four in a day, and you should not try.

Büyükada {#buyukada} Büyükada is the largest island and the one most first-timers choose. The classic route runs from the clock-tower square up to Aya Yorgi, the Greek Orthodox monastery church on the 202-meter hilltop. In our experience the walk takes about an hour at an easy pace. The Marmara view at the top settles any argument about whether it was worth it. Twice a year, on April 23 and September 24, thousands of pilgrims — most of them Muslim — climb the same path in silence, many unspooling thread as they go. For example, the island's strangest chapter: Leon Trotsky spent his exile years here, from 1929 to 1933, writing in a rented mansion above the sea. Back at sea level, rent a bike near the ferry, and book the Büyükada boat ticket if you want the crossing with commentary.

Heybeliada {#heybeliada} Heybeliada is the second-largest island and the quieter counterweight. Pine forest covers most of it, the swimming coves are calmer, and the waterfront is a working neighborhood rather than a promenade. In contrast to Büyükada, nobody is performing for visitors here. On the hill sits the Halki seminary, the Greek Orthodox theological school closed since 1971; in 2026 Turkey announced plans to reopen it, though at the time of writing that has not yet happened. The island also carries a naval past — its historic naval school closed in 2016. Take the Heybeliada boat ticket for the self-guided version.

Burgazada {#burgazada} Burgazada is the small island writers claimed. Sait Faik, Turkey's great short-story writer, lived and wrote here; his house is now a free museum run by the foundation he left it to. Meanwhile, locals head for Kalpazankaya on the west shore, the island's sunset spot, where the rocks meet the water and the evening boats drift past. If you want an island with almost no crowds, this is the one.

Kınalıada {#kinaliada} Kınalıada is the closest island to the city, which makes it the quickest swim-escape on the map. Notably, the name means "henna island," after the reddish, iron-tinged slopes that face the sea. In Byzantine times this was the exile island of first resort — deposed emperor Romanos IV Diogenes ended his days here in 1072. In short: fewest sights, fastest crossing, clearest water-to-effort ratio.

The name is Byzantine, and it is not a compliment. For centuries the empire used these islands as a velvet prison: deposed princes, inconvenient royals, and the occasional empress were shipped out to island monasteries, close enough to watch the capital and far enough to never touch it. The monasteries came first, and the exiles followed. In other words, the "princes" of the name did not summer here by choice. Consequently, the islands entered history as a place you were sent, not a place you went.

The islands' second act began in 1846, when steam ferries connected them to the city. Within a generation they became the summer resort of Istanbul's Greek, Jewish, and Armenian bourgeoisie, who built the wooden mansions that still line the lanes. Likewise came the hotels, the pine promenades, and the summer social season the islands were famous for. That layered past is the island's texture today: monastery bells above, Art Nouveau woodwork below, and ferry horns in between.

The islands' most famous exile came late. After losing the power struggle to Stalin, Leon Trotsky lived on Büyükada from 1929 to 1933. According to Britannica, it was here he wrote his autobiography and much of his History of the Russian Revolution, with the fishing boats of the Marmara outside his window.

Specifically because nothing replaced that era — no bridges, no cars, no towers — the islands stayed a museum of it. That accident of geography is what you are visiting.