Dodging four men pushing a cart full of honeydew melons, I step out of the noisy traffic of Istanbul, pass through the horseshoe-arched door, and trade one commotion for another. Suddenly the air—heated by thousands of electric bulbs—is several degrees warmer. Like carnivorous flowers, merchants seduce from glittering shops. They say, “Welcome to the Grand Bazaar.”
This labyrinthine warren of shops is called Kapalı Çarşı (kah-pah-luh chahr-shuh)—literally “covered market.” While much of the bazaar is overrun with international visitors, it still has virtually tourist-free nooks and crannies that offer an insightful glimpse into the “real” Istanbul.
