8/28 Wednesday
We
have to walk a few miles, or at least it seems that far, to get to the tram.
The tram takes us over the Bosporus River, to the most touristy part of the city, the
Sultanahmet district, the Old
City. We stop to see a
stone column from 330 BC, a relic from the age of Constantine. We walk past
some cafes, where the waiters practically corral you into sitting. We stop at
one, saying we just want drinks, some cold water. The waiter sits at the table
with us with the menu, pointing to the pictures and telling us “Everyone gets
this! Everyone likes this! You can order this!” We can’t take it, we have to
leave. Then we stop at a shop selling spices, nuts, teas and Turkish delight. I
ask for a small box of mixed flavors of candy. The shopkeeper packs up a box
and weighs it, and tells me it costs 65 lire! That’s more than thirty dollars,
while I’m expecting to pay seven or eight USD at the most. Bob has a 'discussion' with the guy, who unpacks most of the box until it costs 20 lire, and
we go on our way feeling somewhat pestered. Fortunately, these are not our
typical experiences with the Turkish shop people.
We
head into the Old Bazaar, a huge ancient mall, a covered brick complex of streets
filled with shops of all kinds. The vaulted ceilings are decorated with
beautiful tiles. The place is full of tourists, of course. The shops are so
varied and colorful, selling jewelry, carpets, mosaic lanterns, leather
pillows, gorgeous Turkish ceramics, traditional and modern clothes, scarves and
pashminas, boots, soaps, spices, musical instruments, hookahs, all sorts of
things. I’d love to buy pretty much all of it. I do pick out a beautiful silk
scarf that I can pack and carry home. At first, the shopkeeper is busy with
four Japanese tourists, young women, who are all buying three or more of the
most expensive cashmere scarves. So, while every other place is haranguing us
to buy from them, I have to wait in line to buy the one thing I want to purchase.
After
working our way around the bazaar streets that seem to go around in an infinity
loop, we walk out into the sunny streets where we find even more shops. We
happen to land in the Party Dress street. Store after store with elaborate
gowns: shiny, sequined, slinky, poufy, high glam dresses. The odd thing is that
so many of the women walking along the street are completely covered in black
burkas, and nearly all the others are dressed in lighter overcoats, still
completely covered up.
We’re
in a huge maze of stores. We walk sort of towards the tram station at the top
of the hill. As we turn down a quieter side street, we find ourselves in the
land of grommets. Every store on the street sells grommets and grommet-fixing
presses. All of them. Every store window is piled full of bags of grommets. How
would anyone decide which store to shop in? Who knew there was such a demand
for grommets.
We
spot a little doner shop on a side street. Nice and quiet. There are a dozen or
so working men having tea at the nearby tables, and they have all their blue
wheelcarts and heavy backpacks parked on the curb. The backpacks are made of
carpet and leather, designed to tote a big load of whatever on the man’s back.
We sit and order a sandwich, relaxing away from the shopping mobs. A nicely
dressed man comes up the street speaking sternly in Turkish, and all the men
get up and grab their wagons. Apparently a truck has arrived and needs to be
unloaded. As we have our lunch, the men come and go, leaving the carts, taking
the carts, taking a break, getting back to work. One older man puts on his
backpack, and another guy piles a huge sack onto it; it has to go somewhere
that won’t take a cart, probably up six flights of stairs. The man walks off,
doubled over. These people work hard.
1 Video Included
Istanbul Grand Bazaar
Cool. Miss you! J and F
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