Exploring local markets is always one of my favorite things to do when I travel to new cities, so I knew that I simply couldn't miss Istanbul's Spice Bazaar. Built in the 1600s, the Spice Bazaar (Mısır Çarşısı) is also known as the "Egyptian Bazaar" because its construction was funded by the revenues of Egyptian imports. This Ottoman-era marketplace attracts a wide variety of hungry tourists and locals with its abundance of spices and fresh Turkish delicacies such as nuts, dried fruits, herbs, tea and lokum (Turkish Delight).
Upon entering the crowded, bustling market, it was just as exotic and overwhelming as I expected it to be. Wide-eyed and filled with wonder, I began exploring the chaotic bazaar.
I immediately felt a rush of excitement and anxiety, akin to how I felt as a child when I visited Disney Land. There was so much to do, so much to be seen, and a weird sense of pressure to fully experience it all - not missing a single stall, photo opportunity, or exotic Turkish treat. Sometimes traveling can provoke that kind of anxiety within me, as if I'm competing against myself to have the best time possible. As the crowds and stimuli of the bazaar bombarded my senses, I began to feel myself panic.
I rushed to take as many pictures of dates and baklava as possible, when shortly thereafter I realized I had lost my friends. Full on panic arose. In this loud, sprawling marketplace, how would I ever find them? Heart racing and sweating profusely, I darted past the nearby vendors, desperate to try to spot them. I could see people eyeing me, but I couldn't conceal my fear. After what felt like a thousand lightyears (which in reality, was probably only about 3 minutes), I finally spotted my friend's bright red jacket in a stall across the way. Lesson learned: it's probably not a good idea to wander off to take pictures in a crowded Turkish market.
I gave my friend's arm a loving squeeze, took several deep breaths, and sipped on some tea that the shop vendor offered me. Enveloped in the calm that always follows the storm, I no longer concerned myself with having the "the ultimate" experience. Potential photo opportunities and experiences aside, I needed to focus on living in the moment (while also not losing my friends again).
From there on out, I surrendered my senses to the enigmatic Spice Bazaar. I admired the vividly colored spices, tasted a myriad of samples, and made friends with the affable vendors. I stocked up on cumin, cinnamon, apple tea, curry and other spice mixes to take home with me, and picked up some pistachios and rose Turkish Delight to snack on while we browsed through the other stalls.
I basked in the market's vibrance. Everything we saw, every morsel we tasted, and every friendly merchant we talked to enriched our experience. I was filled with that childlike wonder again, minus the anxiety that I had originally felt upon entering the market. When I freed myself from the pressure of having to experience as much as possible, I managed to do just that.
I left the Spice Bazaar with full shopping bags, a full belly, and a full heart. While this captivating marketplace was one of my favorite places in Istanbul, it also challenged me in an unexpected way. My experience in the Spice Bazaar taught me that instead of actively seeking out experiences, sometimes you just have to let them happen.
(Next to the New Mosque)
Open daily from 8:00 am to 7:30 pm. Closed on Sundays, October 29th and religious holidays.
Entrance is free.
