Mark & Jen's 'Around the World' Travel & Photography Blog

Amidst a cold drizzle of April rain, the Bosphorus River rocks the fishing boats back and forth against the concrete bank. The smell of dead fish (recently caught, I hope) waiting for the nearby restaurants wanders its way from the buckets to my nose. I crinkle at the smell.

We turn left into the Spice Bazaar and welcome the aromatic pleasure this change produces. Chili and saffron mingle together with ground pistachios and slivered almonds. Sticky bars of honeycomb oozing with honey from this spring’s flowers line the back of the shelves. In the distance, freshly-ground coffee beans tempt us to linger.

Istanbul: Bosphorus at night

Out on the street, we stop by the original Turkish Delight shop, still run by the same family since 1777. For ten minutes we peruse the glass cases, trying to choose the very best concoction of this gelatin, cavity-causing delight. Mark finally settles on coffee bean while I, unsurprisingly, choose chocolate-coated. We bite together and agree, mine is better.

Billboards line the sides of buildings showing the latest head scarves and the most fashionable shoes. Ladies, in and out of scarves, walk hand-in-hand from one shop to the next, chatting and pondering a purchase all at once.

Vendors tout their products in a cacophony of screams: “Ize scream, youz scream, weez all screams for ize scream!”;“Come look my shop-very good price;” “You look tired—I have coffee;” “Hey, woman, I sell chocolate;” “Ok, you keep walking. Maybe next time.”

Arabic Medallions inside Aya Sofya / Yeni Camii New Mosque

The sun sinks a little lower in the afternoon drizzle. Simultaneously, the mosques in every direction begin the muezzin—the call to afternoon prayer. In a holy surround-sound, the imams of the city sing the verses of the Qur’an in scales and arpeggios of unequaled enthusiasm. A ferry horn blasts in the distance.

As the light of the day finally fades, smart businessmen clutch their briefcases as they hurry to catch the tram before it rumbles away. Floodlights illuminate the countless minarets of the mosques. Mark and I turn into a hole-in-the-wall café and order our last Efes beer and Turkish lamb kebabs for the month, saving a little room for a left-over piece of baklava. Already, we are planning our return trip to the country that has left such a genuinely welcoming impression on both our traveling spirits.