A Day of Contrasts: Spice Bazaar and Istinye Park Mall

We were up by 7:00, checked my email, wrote a couple of replies, and then, as Evie worked on the pictures, I put on my ipod and walked to Bebek and back, picking up bread and a simit on the way back. What a wonderful walk it is, as fisherman line the promendade between the two villages, mostly the wealthy seem to be out for walks or runs, even with dogs, and fisherman huddled around little tables, sharing a breakfast of tea, hard boiled eggs, beyaz peynir, tomatoes, and the like. How long them have been there, I am not sure, perhaps all night, as they make their living by renting fishing equipment. I wish I had my camera as one older man, lay on the bench, fishergear nearby, dozing, no doubt having been there most of the day and night. I came home, showered, and started today’s entry, with Bosphorus gleaming in the window. We went into the city, taking bus to Kabatas, then the tram into the city, getting off at Karakoy. We walked across the bridge to the Yeni mosque an water front, where four or five fishing boats, huge and decorated in Ottoman style, cook fish and offer a fish and bread sandwich. The waiters are dressed in Turkish costumes, so it attracts lots of tourists. Then, we went into the Spice Bazaar, much the same, but with less spice and more stories selling various sundries. We bought some urga biber, thought we got taken, but found out we got the cadilac of the spice, if we are to believe the seller. The streets are packed with shoppers, more than I can ever remember, and it never let up, whether the main or side street. No wonder there are 16 million people in Turkey. We mostly looked, rarely stopping to shop, just people watching and we would not know where to begin with buying, as we have so much stuff from our previous stay. We ended up at the Brothers Jewelery, a place we used to go and recommended by Eptings. We talked with Yusuf for over an hour, had tea, and eventually we each bought a puzzle ring, He remember me, for sure, as he was able to tell a funny story about a five foot friend being called Tom Davis because he had long hair like me. We then went and ate in our old restaurant, Havuzlu in the Bazaar, and had wonder doner and an eggplant dish, just as I remember. We then headed home, the same way, through even more people; the crowds of shoppers don’t stop, various sizes, mostly lower middle class, many dressed in black with burkhas, a shock at first to see as well as many women, with boy friends often, with scarves on. We took the tram back to Kabatas, waited quite awhile for the bus, and got back about three. About three thirty, Ates called and wondered if we wanted to go to Istinye Park. We thought it would be fun, got ready to go to the park, only to find out it’s the largest, perhaps most chic as well. We were in a bit of a shock, as we wound our way up the circular parking mall to park our car; it had small red/green lights over the spot to let you know if there was an open space on the line. By the way, Ates was his usual self, talking non stop, making jokes and showing or telling us about everything we were passing, especially the Little Manhattan which we passed. Getting back to the mall, we walked around, amazed by the modernity of its architecture and clientele. It’s clear there is lots of money in Istanbul. The upper level is out side, with a glass restaurant in the middle of a square, surrounded by the biggest names in shopping, from DeBeers, to Louise Vitton, Jimmy Chou, and so on. A couple of Ferraris were parked in front of some of the stores, and everyone was out to look good and be seen, or so it seemed. We walked around, went in one store to return something, where Ates knew the salespeople, introduced us, and told him all about us. The salesperson was very nice, seemed pleased to see us. Ates then took us to an upper scale store called Vakko, where Mine seems to shop a lot. We were once again, introduced to all the salespeople and treated to capuccino. We then were taken to the food court, for anything we might want, from sushi, to Turkish food, to Pop Eyes, to Burger King, to chinese, to whatever. We then went to the indoor market, a marvelous area of the most amazing goodstuffs, organic products, surrounded by restautrants. We ended up eating a fish restaurant, picking out the our to be grilled, from the market, and eating it. We loved the hamsi, or sardines, fried, and both Evie and I had lufer, which was really fine, easy to eat though an entire fish, not fishy, light and tasty. As we sat there, at least three or four different couples walked by, knew Ates, and stopped by to talk and be introduced to us. It’s amazing, as everywhere we go, people know our Turkish friends. We then walked back through the mall, ran into two basketballers I remember, both in their 60’s, and we got pictures, Absurdly, Atex and one of the players seemed to get upset about an incident between them that happened forty years ago, where Ates supposedly told the guy he ‘fucked his mother,’ and Ates says the guy was always grabbing his privates. Ates would not admit he said it; the guy would not back down and they really started raising therr voices until Nur told me to take that crazy Ates away, which I did. Only in Turkey. As we wound our way out, we had to stop for sweets and I finally had some firin sutlac, or milk pudding which I love. In fact, Mine made me get another to take home because I liked it so much. We then drove home via the Bosphorus, down back narrow streets to the main Bosphorus road, then on to our apartment. We stayed up till 11”00, as Evie worked on pictures and I read and watched CNN. It was certainly a day of stark contrasts, the old city, with its mass of people, colors, shops stuffed together and narrow alleys, and Istiny Park, with its well appointed stores like Vendi, its wide avenues, wealthy families, with children, filling a Saturday evening at the mall, shopping and people watching, and being watched.