One-Bedroom Balcony Apartment

Forty-two square metres divided properly: a living room with a proper sofa and the kitchenette, a separate bedroom with a king bed, and a sliding oak door between them. The door matters. It is the difference between a studio that pretends to be an apartment and an apartment that knows what an apartment is for. Close it and the morning espresso machine becomes someone else's problem.

The balcony runs along the Çukurcuma Street side of the building. It is narrow — a chair and a small table, no more — but it gets the late afternoon sun, and from it you can see the steady traffic of the antique street: the dealer hauling a Bursa armchair, the cat that lives on the corner, the lamplighter who is actually just an electrician. The third guest sleeps on the living-room sofa, which is wide enough to be slept on by a six-foot adult, which we have tested.

The kitchen is full — induction hob, an oven that fits a tray of börek, a small dishwasher concealed beneath the counter, a real espresso machine. The bathroom is on the bedroom side, walk-in marble shower, the same brass fittings as the rest of the building. Laundry is in its own cupboard off the entry. Underfloor heating throughout.

It is the room we suggest for a couple plus a parent, or two close friends who would rather have separate rooms than a bigger studio. Five nights here is comfortable. Two weeks is also comfortable, and we have written down which neighbour to ask for an extra pillow on the second floor if you need one.

Wellness privilege: 10% off at Çukurcuma Hamamı 1831, included for direct-book guests of the apartment.