I break through one of the many crowded entryways to the world famous Grand Bazaar and let out an audible, astonished gasp. Never in my life have I seen so much activity in one place and it’s happening all around me; 360 degrees. It’s crowded, noisy, stiflingly hot and smelly-in ways both pleasant and not. Talk about sensory overload. On my left is a Turkish rug shop, it’s window display is overflowing with beautiful rugs of all shapes and sizes. They are crammed against the clear glass like ornate, delicate sardines. Next to the rug shop is a spice stall. The turban clad, moustachioed vendor is arguing loudly in turkish with a customer over a bag of what appears to be saffron-the gold of the Middle East. Across the vast hallway is a sweet shop, it’s tables piled high with sugary sweet turkish delight. My mouth waters as my eyes explore the delicious looking indulgences.
The bazaar is filled with people, oh so many people, who swirl around me in a fluid, homogenous mixture of nameless, unidentifiable faces. It would be so easy to get lost here and I bet that many people do. To just disappear into the churning crowd and simply become someone else-anyone else-is tempting, and I suppose that temptation is what attracts many of the millions upon millions of visitors who travel to Istanbul, the world’s fifth largest metropolis, every year. If there’s a place where it’s possible to feel alone and completely independent when you’re enclosed on all sides by so many other people, Istanbul is that place.
There is a peculiar sense of freedom that comes from being in such a condensed space like the Grand Bazaar. And it’s not a sense of freedom that everyone should be offered. This kind of liberty is dangerous in large doses. The sort of freedom Istanbul offers is two-fold; both choice and opportunity are boundless here.
I make my way through the ebbing and flowing crowd of bodies, travelling in a haphazard zig-zag pattern, as I am constantly pulled and pushed this way and that, towards a minuscule shop with a forlorn facade. The tinkling sound of bells greets me as I push open the heavy door and the shopkeeper, a little old woman who’s weathered face could hold three days rain, stands up from her fold out plastic lawn chair and flashes me a wide smile. As the door swings shut behind me the noise of the outside world is dimmed to a pleasant murmur.
Outside the little shop time is still hurtling on indefinitely, but for me it seems to stand still. The walls and shelves of the shop are crammed with delicate figurines, quirky odds and ends and various household items, all with a distinctly turkish character and all looking as though they belong in some other era. I’m awestruck at the array of wonderful choices and dumbfounded that the shop isn’t packed with others, it’s dilapidated storefront must keep them away. The store is certainly overshadowed by the loud and vibrant window displays and facades of it’s neighbours. It truly is a very well hidden diamond in the rough.
I could spend all day in the shop, but a day is all I have to explore the never-ending delights Istanbul has to offer. I exit the shop and venture back out into the crowded corridor ready to dive into the proverbial melting pot of possibilities. My mind is racing a mile a minute deciding what to do next, where to go, who to see, who to be. It’s trying to milk every last drop of liberty out of Istanbul’s freedom filled udders.
About the Author: Gillian Pierce is a high school student from Edmonton, Alberta. She strives to incorporate adventure into every part of her life, especially through world travel. She loves chai tea, dogs and satirical novels; not necessarily in that order.
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Ready to visit two continents in one country? WSGT found these travel books and gear to help you prepare.
Lonely Planet Turkey: Learn about Turkey before you go.
Turkish phrasebook: Learn the local lingo to make your trip a little easier.
