A Personal Story From Cuong: Feeding The Street Cats of Istanbul

This isn’t one of my usual reflective travel articles. It’s a personal story, told the way I’d share it over coffee with a friend. Last November, I spent five days in Istanbul, and while the skyline, the food, and the layers of history left their mark on me, something entirely different shaped my trip the most: The Cats.

If you’ve ever been to Istanbul, you know. The cats are not just a side note. They’re everywhere. On stairways, along the Bosphorus, inside cafés, next to shop entrances, sunbathing on parked scooters, weaving through crowds as if they own the city. Istanbul belongs to them as much as it belongs to the people.

I’d seen photos before I went, but nothing prepares you for the reality of it. On my first evening walk, I counted dozens without even trying. Some were well-fed and clearly loved by the neighbourhood. Others had makeshift shelters built from plastic crates, lined with blankets, placed outside shops or apartment buildings. You could tell those were monitored lovingly by locals. But then there were the others; the ones with thinner frames, dusty fur, or cautious eyes. The ones who didn’t have a crate or a caretaker.

After 2 days walking around and witnessing it, the evening of the third day it just hit me, and that’s when something shifted.

The idea that became the purpose of my trip

The next morning, instead of rushing to a museum or ticking off landmarks, I walked into a small supermarket near my Airbnb. I didn’t really overthink it. I just picked up cat food. Wet food, dry food, whatever I could carry. The cashier didn’t even blink; I guess he’d seen this before.

There was no grand plan. No route. No Instagram mission. I simply filled a bag with food and stepped back into the city with one intention: to make the experience mean something beyond myself, even if only for a few days.

I had expected to feel good about it. What I didn’t expect was how grounding, humbling, and strangely emotional it would become.

Wandering without a destination

Istanbul is chaotic in the most beautiful way, and walking without a purpose other than “find cats who need a meal” became an experience in itself. I wandered through narrow residential streets in Kadekoy, climbed steep neighbourhoods where laundry hung from balconies, and stopped beside parked cars and under stone archways.

Each time I spotted a cat, I approached gently. Some ran off immediately, those I left alone. Some paused, unsure. A few bold ones walked straight toward me with tails up, already knowing the ritual.

I would open a packet, and place the food on a clean spot; sometimes next to a curb, sometimes in a quiet corner. There was no choosing based on looks or condition. Anyone who showed up got a meal. And sometimes, cats who were too shy to come close waited for me to walk away before they approached.

The city reacted too

People in Istanbul noticed. More than once, someone passed by, gave a small nod, and continued walking. An older man placed a hand briefly on his heart and smiled. A woman sweeping outside her store pointed me toward an alley where two tiny kittens were hiding behind an iron fence.

Locals didn’t treat feeding street cats as a heroic act. It was simply part of life. There was something deeply human about that. No spectacle. No fuss. Just an unspoken agreement that the city belongs to every creature living in it.

Istanbul belongs to them as much as it belongs to the people.

The moments that stayed with me

There was a ginger cat near Galata Tower who followed me for a full block after finishing his food, brushing against my legs. A black-and-white one sat patiently beside me until I opened the packet, as if demanding service.

In Karakoy, a timid tabby emerged from under a car the moment I knelt down; I remember how she froze when a group of tourists passed by, then continued eating once the street went quiet again.

Most of all, I remember the rhythm of it. Walking, pausing, observing, offering, moving on. It felt simple and honest. Feeding them wasn’t going to solve a long-term issue, and I knew that. But for one meal, for one moment, they didn’t have to search or scavenge. And sometimes that’s all you can give.

What giving back taught me

You don’t need much to create meaning in your travels. It doesn’t require volunteering programs, organized efforts, or large donations. Sometimes it’s a small act of care with no expectations. A way to acknowledge that you’re a temporary guest in someone else’s home, whether that someone is a person or a cat.

That trip reminded me that memorable travel doesn’t always come from iconic landmarks or big experiences. Sometimes it comes from walking slowly, paying attention, and deciding to leave a place a little kinder than you found it. And honestly, those five days felt richer, softer, and more human because of it.

Tips if you want to feed street cats in Istanbul

• Choose local brands: There’s no need to buy expensive imported cat food. Local brands are perfectly good, widely used, and support the local economy (I bought a mix of both, as a particular brand had a good promo; see tip below)

• Use the Istanbul Card for supermarket promotions: Several supermarket chains offer small discounts when you show your Istanbul Card. It’s worth asking at the counter.

• Look for cats without shelters: You’ll see many makeshift shelters created by residents. The cats around them often have regular caretakers. Try seeking out the ones who roam alone or don’t have a spot to return to.

• Dry and wet food: Dry food is ideal for feeding more cats because it stretches the budget and quantity. Wet food offers important nutrition, especially for older or skinnier cats.

• Bring a small spoon or foldable dish: It makes feeding cleaner, especially in areas with limited flat surfaces.

• Avoid feeding in extremely crowded areas: Cats in busy tourist zones often get food from cafés, visitors, or nearby residents. The quieter residential streets often have more need.

• Don’t try to pet or pick them up: Some are friendly, but many are shy or stressed. Feeding from a short distance is respectful and safer for everyone.

• Dispose of empty packets responsibly: Keep a small plastic bag with you to store used packaging until you find a bin.