The market economy

Our guide book simply said, “Nothing can prepare you for the Grand Bazaar.” On our penultimate day in Istanbul we were compelled to find out why. The bazaar is a maze of streets covered by brightly painted arched roofing. It’s the pre-modern mall. Inside all manner of goods are for sale and have been since 1453. Garry and I spent an enjoyable afternoon wandering its indoor laneways, coming across old marble water fountains, cafes and all manner of crafts.


Earlier in the days we’d wandered through Misir Carsisi, more popularly known as the Egyptian or Spice Bazaar. This L-shaped market was built in the 17th Century and specializes in spices, herbs, nuts and Turkish confectionery. Each stall owner displays his colourful spices in artfully heaped mounds and sacks. The market bustles with activity until the call for prayer begins at the neighbouring mosque. Within minutes we watched most stalls close and its menfolk dash for the exit as the final call to prayer ended.


Perhaps the most unusual item we saw on sale wasn't actually in either bazaar. A street vendor outside the Spice Bazaar was offering leeches for sale, promoting them as the ultimate health tonic. Unlike the nearby T-shirts vendors, this stallholder had the local market cornered.

While both bazaars were fascinating, perhaps the most colourful market we encountered was an informal affair along the waterfront. Every evening after dark hundreds of private vendors set up shop on a rug or box hawking all manner of goods between Gatala Bridge and Sirkeci railway station. The footpath bustles with local buying snacks, children’s shoes and simple electronics. The sounds and smells alone felt far more authentic than those of the Grand Bazaar. Our guide book was wrong. Nothing prepared us for the impromptu market of Eminonu.