August 26, 1996

What would you like? A carpet, ancient kilim, gold jewelry, a woven skullcap, silk scarf, brass candelabra? Maybe a charm to ward off the 'Evil Eye', an Aladdin's lamp, a Turkish drum or a sequined bra for belly dancing? Hand painted lacquer box, curly-toed sultan slippers laced in gold, leather jacket or ivory pipe? Or perhaps you would like a pair of shoes in solid silver? Plunge in. But be careful, you can easily get lost in the maze at the Grand Bazaar.

This could very well be the shopping experience of our lifetime. Istanbul has over five bazaars in old town. In the Grand Bazaar alone there are 65 winding covered streets crammed with 4000 tiny shops and cafes. It is easy to get lost and we did. "Haven't we been down this street before?" We looped; we circled; we ended up, we thought, at the same courtyard, the same entry arch. But we could never be sure. It is mind-boggling. Where to begin? We were overwhelming. By the time the morning and most of the afternoon was behind us, we hadn't bought a thing. We had counted on looking first and doubling back to find that one store again. An impossible feat.

Outside the maze of tiled arches there is even more. Sections of streets are devoted to gold jewelry, silver jewelry, silks, books. There are rows of leather goods, shoes, buttons, paper, and brass urns. If it be can be imagined, it was for sale somewhere. Eventually we stumbled into a corner courtyard where woolens were sold. Piles and piles of socks, mounds of sweaters, hats lined the small shops. The prices were too good to resist. "Socks for everyone." Then we wandered through the book bazaar, the ceramic section, the water-pipe cafe. Finally we collapsed in a tiny restaurant that catered to locals. Breads, yogurt salad, spinach and chick-pea dishes. We ate and watched the world go by.

The selling, the buying, the crowded streets, this city has energy; chaotic, frantic, almost schizophrenic. Streets are noisy and crowded; motorists continually blast their horns; men in Turkish costumes call to sample the sour cherry juice; men carry heavy loads on their backs, they peddle chestnuts, pastries or shoe shines; street vendors shave meat onto flat breads; and everywhere tea trays loaded with small glasses fly past doorways. The pulse of the city enveloped us and we loved it.

But shopping is only the tip of the iceberg here. Istanbul is filled with art, history and architecture. On one side of the city lies Asia, on the other Europe. The scenery from these two continents are separated by the Bosphorus; a narrow channel connecting the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmar. From the bridges linking them, and from almost every street in town, we could see the domes and missile-like turrets (minarets) of the Turkish mosques. There are monuments, palaces, ancient walls. Tile work decorates arches, ivory and marble adorn entry ways and columns.

The flavor of this city captured our ears and noses as well. In courtyards we were shown ancient kilims. Musty odors rose from their folds. In the covered bazaar the songs of the carpet sellers rang through the streets, "Hello my good friend, come take a look". The haggling, the tingling of tea glasses, the smell of spices in the halls of the Egyptian Bazaar, the backdrop of wailing songs of prayer; everything brught us back to the stime when Sultans ruled, when Istanbul stood at the center of the world.