Istanbul’s Egyptian Bazaar. Among Spices, Sweets and Gold

Sometimes while travelling, the places that stay with you are not necessarily the grand monuments or the famous historical sites. Sometimes it is simply a market full of colours, spices, noise and carefully arranged displays. That was exactly my impression of Istanbul’s Egyptian Bazaar.

We ended up at the Egyptian Bazaar in Istanbul a bit by accident. After a boat trip on the Bosphorus, this was simply one of the closest places to where the boats docked, so I suspect that was exactly why our guides brought us there. It was also my first market experience in Istanbul, although technically not the city’s most famous one. That title probably still belongs to the enormous Grand Bazaar, which is much larger and much better known among visitors.

Architecturally, the Egyptian Bazaar itself is probably not the most spectacular historical market you can find. There are certainly older and more decorative bazaars in different parts of the world. The building is interesting, but after walking through several sections, the architecture becomes rather repetitive, and with the constant crowds it was not particularly easy to photograph anyway.

What really caught my attention instead was the incredible density of trade and the care with which everything was displayed. There seemed to be an endless number of stalls and tiny shops selling spices, sweets, teas, gold jewellery, fabrics, clothing and all sorts of decorative objects aimed at both locals and tourists.

The spice displays were especially striking. Mountains of colourful powders, dried herbs and tea blends were arranged almost like small works of art. What I noticed several times was how carefully the vendors maintained these displays throughout the day. Whenever products were sold and the perfect shapes disappeared, they immediately refilled, reshaped and smoothed everything again so the presentation remained visually flawless. It was almost theatrical, but in a very beautiful way.

I had already noticed during breakfast at our Turkish hotel that Turkish cuisine places enormous emphasis on sweets and sweet spreads, and the bazaar confirmed it immediately. There were endless varieties of halva, lokum, pistachio desserts, honey-based sweets and chocolate creations that today would probably be marketed elsewhere as Dubai-style desserts. Turkish sweets are often extremely rich, very decorative and heavily based on nuts, sesame, honey, syrup and pistachios, which makes them feel quite different from the cakes and desserts more common in other parts of Europe.

There were also many clothing shops, although I photographed fewer of them. I did notice some incredibly ornate Turkish lingerie displays, full of embroidery, lace and bright decorative details, as well as many jewellery shops specialising in gold. Gold seems to occupy a very visible place in Turkish commercial culture, and entire sections of the bazaar glittered with it.

According to many guidebooks, the Egyptian Bazaar is used both by locals and tourists. Personally, though, I had the impression that tourists clearly dominate today. The only local customers I distinctly remember were people buying spices and food products rather than souvenirs or decorative items. That part at least still seemed genuinely practical and connected to everyday life in the city.

By that point, my own interest shifted almost completely toward photography rather than shopping. The architecture itself mattered less to me than the textures, colours and arrangements of all the goods on display. Most of the photos from this post therefore focus on those details – the spices, sweets, tea glasses, gold, fabrics and carefully prepared shop displays that make the bazaar visually fascinating even if you buy almost nothing.

In fact, the only thing I bought there was a Turkish tea pot. Or at least I hope it was Turkish and not manufactured somewhere else entirely. To be honest, establishing that with certainty inside a tourist bazaar was probably impossible.

The Egyptian Bazaar, also known as the Spice Bazaar, was built in the seventeenth century during the period of the Ottoman Empire. It was completed around 1664 as part of the larger complex of the New Mosque (Yeni Camii), located beside the waterfront of the Golden Horn – the natural inlet branching off from the Bosphorus and connecting with the Sea of Marmara, which for centuries served as one of Istanbul’s most important harbour and trading areas. Much of the commercial life of the city historically concentrated around these waters, as ships arriving from across the Mediterranean and the Middle East brought goods directly into this part of Istanbul.

During the Ottoman period, bazaars such as this were not simply marketplaces in the modern sense. Income generated from renting the shops helped finance the maintenance of mosques, schools, charitable kitchens and other public buildings connected with religious complexes. Trade therefore played a direct role in supporting the daily functioning of the city and many of its institutions.

The name Egyptian Bazaar most likely comes from the fact that many goods and taxes connected with the market originated in Egypt, which at the time formed part of the Ottoman Empire. The trade in spices, coffee, tea and other imported luxury products arriving by sea was especially important. Over time, the bazaar became one of the main centres of the spice trade in Istanbul, although in reality it always offered far more than spices alone. Unlike the enormous Grand Bazaar, which developed as a huge commercial centre covering almost every category of goods imaginable, the Egyptian Bazaar became more specialised and strongly associated with food products, herbs, teas, sweets and various luxury delicacies. Even today, this is still the character for which it is best known.

Architecturally, the building follows a characteristic Ottoman layout, with long vaulted corridors and rows of relatively small shops lining both sides of the passageways. Over the centuries, many parts of the bazaar had to be restored after fires and earthquakes, so its present appearance combines original historical elements with later reconstructions and renovations.

Istanbul’s Egyptian Bazaar. Among Spices, Sweets and Gold

Istanbul from the Bosphorus Waters. A Short Cruise Between Europe and Asia

Today I would like to show you what is often considered the largest city in Europe. Istanbul is a city that stretches across two continents, with most of its population living on the European side and the rest on the Asian shore of the Bosphorus. With more than fifteen million inhabitants, it is frequently described as the largest city in Europe, although its unique position between Europe and Asia makes it impossible to place neatly into a single category. And perhaps that is exactly what makes Istanbul feel so extraordinary from the very beginning.

We deliberately chose not to fly to Istanbul. Instead, we travelled overland from Bulgaria by coach. We wanted to experience the gradual transition into the city and understand its true scale. Both on the journey into Istanbul and again when leaving, we crossed enormous sections of the city – each time following a different route. That gave us the opportunity to see far more than just the famous landmarks usually associated with Istanbul. We saw the city as a vast, sprawling metropolis stretching endlessly across hills, valleys and coastlines on two continents. Even after hours of driving, the city still seemed to continue without interruption. Along the way I took hundreds of photographs through the coach window, trying to capture at least fragments of that scale. I still have not processed those images yet, but they will definitely appear in a future post.

But on the second day we pursuit yet another Istanbul experience and boarded a cruiser to see the city from the Bosphorus waters. It revealed an entirely different perspective. From the deck of the boat, Istanbul was no longer a landscape of traffic, overpasses and endless urban expansion, but a constantly changing waterfront panorama of palaces, mosques, bridges, waterfront mansions and steep hillsides rising directly above the strait. Seen from the water, the city felt calmer, more layered and somehow even more extraordinary. And perhaps that contrast between the overwhelming scale of Istanbul seen from the land and the softer atmosphere of the city seen from the Bosphorus is what made this experience so unforgettable.

The Bosphorus cruise was the complete opposite of that land perspective. Instead of traffic, overpasses and crowded streets, we watched Istanbul unfold slowly from the water itself. What struck me most was the contrast. Ottoman palaces stood directly beside the water, their façades reflected in the strait, while behind them modern apartment buildings climbed steep hillsides.

But more than anything else, I remember the atmosphere of the Bosphorus that morning. When I was a child, I once read a novel in which someone described Istanbul at dawnthe Bosphorus covered in a pale mist drifting just above the water. I no longer remember the title of the book or even the author, but the image somehow stayed with me for years. And then, standing there in Istanbul, I suddenly realised I was looking at exactly the same scene. Early in the morning, the Bosphorus was wrapped in a delicate haze. The mist softened the outlines of the city and diffused the sunlight so completely that even taking photographs became difficult. The entire landscape seemed muted and almost unreal. The colour of the Bosphorus waters surprised me as well. I had expected the deep navy tones usually associated with large sea channels, but the water often appeared aquamarine. In the soft morning light it shifted constantly between pale turquoise and blue-green shades, reflecting both the changing sky and the mist above it.

The cruise itself lasted around an hour. The Bosphorus is the narrow strait connecting the Black Sea with the Sea of Marmara and, at the same time, the natural dividing line between Europe and Asia. Earlier that day, while approaching the city by road, we had already seen large cargo vessels waiting offshore for permission to enter the Bosphorus. It is one of the characteristic sights around Istanbul. Traffic through the strait is tightly controlled and large ships wait for their allocated passage times before continuing their journey. During the cruise itself, however, the Bosphorus felt unexpectedly calm. Around us there were mainly local ferries, smaller private boats and sightseeing vessels, which allowed the city itself to dominate the experience rather than maritime traffic.

As our boat slowly pulled away from the quay, Istanbul began unfolding in layers along both shores. Above the historic peninsula rose the silhouettes of mosques and minarets dominating the skyline of the old city. Shortly afterwards we passed the Galata Bridge connecting the historic centre with the northern districts across the Golden Horn. The Golden Horn is a natural inlet branching off from the Bosphorus on the European side of Istanbul. For centuries it served as the city’s main harbour and divided the historic imperial centre from the Galata district on the opposite shore. Today it remains one of the most characteristic parts of Istanbul’s waterfront panorama.

From the water we could also clearly see the Galata Tower rising above the dense urban landscape, visible from surprisingly far away. One of the first buildings that immediately drew attention was Dolmabahçe Palace. Bright, monumental and unmistakably European in style, it looked completely different from the more traditional Ottoman architecture usually associated with Istanbul. Seen from the Bosphorus, the palace appeared almost impossibly large, extending directly along the waterfront with enormous symmetrical façades facing the water.

Further along came the Beşiktaş waterfront, followed by the magnificent Çırağan Palace. Today it operates as a luxury hotel, but it still carries the grandeur of an imperial Ottoman residence. Seen from the water, the building looked less like a hotel and more like a ceremonial palace placed directly beside the strait.

The closer we moved along the Bosphorus, the more visible the contrasts became between imperial Istanbul and the modern metropolis surrounding it. Some sections of the shoreline were dominated by historic architecture and elegant waterfront mansions, while others revealed dense modern districts climbing steep hillsides in layers upon layers of apartment blocks.

The Ortaköy Mosque was undoubtedly one of the most photogenic points along the route. Standing almost directly at the edge of the water beneath the vast Bosphorus Bridge, it perfectly captured the layered character of Istanbul itself. Historic Ottoman architecture, modern infrastructure and densely built urban hillsides all existed together within the same view.

On the Asian shore we passed Beylerbeyi Palace, another elegant Ottoman residence overlooking the Bosphorus. Beyond it stretched rows of famous yali – historic wooden waterfront mansions built directly beside the strait. Some seemed almost suspended above the water itself. Between them were hidden gardens, private piers and quiet coves barely visible from the roads running high above the coastline.

At certain moments the shape of the shoreline created the illusion that parts of the city were separated like islands. In reality this was just the entrance to the Strait from the Marmara Sea with the Maiden’s Tower, or Kız Kulesi, standing alone on a small rocky islet near the Asian shore. On the picture below from the Google Maps you can see the route there and back we took.

Before returning to the harbour, another remarkable view appeared on the European side of the city, near the point where the Bosphorus meets the Sea of Marmara. In the distance, rising above the shoreline and surrounded by trees, we could see Topkapi Palace – the vast former residence of the Ottoman sultans.

Unlike the later waterfront palaces built directly along the Bosphorus, Topkapi does not appear as a single monumental building. Seen from the water, it looks more like an entire fortified complex spread across the historic peninsula. For centuries it served as the political, ceremonial and administrative centre of the Ottoman Empire, occupying one of the most strategic locations in Istanbul, overlooking the Bosphorus, the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmara at the same time.

Further behind the palace lies the heart of the former imperial city of Constantinople, where Hagia Sophia and, beyond it, the Blue Mosque dominate the skyline of the historic peninsula. From the position of the boat, however, those landmarks remained hidden deeper within the city and were not visible from the water during this part of the cruise.

What fascinated me most throughout the cruise was how quickly everything changed. The Bosphorus never looked the same for more than a few minutes. One moment there were monumental palaces and elegant waterfront mansions, the next there were crowded residential districts or single houses climbing steep hillsides, followed by mosques, ferry terminals, modern bridges stretching far into the distance. Seen from the water, Istanbul does not feel like a single city. It feels more like a constantly shifting panorama flowing endlessly between Europe and Asia.

Istanbul from the Bosphorus Waters. A Short Cruise Between Europe and Asia

Bari. At the Crossroads of Apulia

Today I would like to write about Bari, a large port city located in the Apulia region in southern Italy. It is one of those places that can be visited well beyond the peak summer season. Even in autumn, temperatures here remain pleasantly high, although it is still worth being prepared for occasional rainy days, which can appear quite suddenly at this time of year.

Unlike many of my previous trips to Italy, my stay in Bari was not limited to walking through a historic centre for a day or two. I spent nearly a week around the city while visiting family living several kilometres outside Bari. Because I had a rental car, I was able to see not only the most tourist-oriented places, but also the more contemporary and everyday side the city. It was precisely this double perspective that made Bari far more memorable than I had initially expected. On one hand, there are the very old, narrow streets of Bari Vecchia, full of tourists, restaurants, and historical landmarks, while on the other there are modern districts, broad avenues, heavy traffic, and the everyday life of a large city. And I have the impression that only after seeing both of these worlds is it possible to better understand Bari. In fact, I have noticed that this often happens when I travel for reasons other than tourism. Sometimes it is work, sometimes visiting family, but staying a little longer usually allows me to see a city from a much broader perspective than just its old town and main tourist attractions.

Driving through the city itself was also an experience of its own. It quickly became clear that finding a parking space in the late evening in the centre where I rented an apartment, was not exactly easy. The local driving style required a certain amount of adjustment, as well. I very quickly started appreciating the fact that the car had front and rear cameras, because many parking spaces looked significantly smaller than those I am used to. Bari did not feel unfriendly towards drivers, however – rather, it felt like a city functioning according to its own rules and rhythm, to which you simply have to adapt. What also surprised me in comparison with my own country was the much smaller number of road signs. Very often, especially at junctions, you have to pay close attention to the lines painted on the road itself, because only then do you realise who actually has priority.

At the same time, the car gave us an enormous amount of freedom, especially because some of our trips around the region were made together with my two-year-old niece. Bari became our base for exploring a larger part of Apulia and even a fragment of neighbouring Basilicata. Over the course of several days, we visited places including Alberobello with its famous trulli houses, Matera with its rock-cut districts, and Castel del Monte, which remains one of the most mysterious medieval buildings in Italy to this day. All of these places are located relatively close to Bari, and it is precisely then that you realise how good a base this city can be.

Despite the numerous trips outside Bari, there was also time to explore the city itself at a slower pace. One evening was spent mainly wandering through the historic centre, while on another day I devoted practically the entire day to the historic districts of Bari itself. And it was then that I started noticing that the city is far more complex than the images usually associated with it online might suggest.

Most tourists associate Bari almost exclusively with Bari Vecchia – the oldest part of the city located between the port and the sea. This is where the best-known landmarks are situated, including the Basilica of Saint Nicholas and the Norman-Swabian Castle. Narrow alleyways, stone walls, hanging laundry, and small squares really do create a very typical image of southern Italy. Even despite the large number of tourists, this part of the city occasionally feels almost medieval, particularly once you move away from the main walking routes.

The Norman-Swabian Castle of Bari turned out to be one of the most interesting places in the city. Since I have already described it in much greater detail elsewhere, I will only mention here that it is definitely worth visiting the interior rather than limiting yourself to viewing the walls from outside. The same applies to the Basilica of Saint Nicholas, which remains one of the most important religious sites in the entire region. It is here that the relics of Saint Nicholas were brought in the 11th century, making Bari an important pilgrimage destination and one of the key ports on the Adriatic for many centuries. At the time of my visit, the castle was undergoing renovation works, and one thing that also stood out was the relatively small number of exhibits inside. In practice, apart from the plaster cast gallery located on the ground floor, the interiors were quite empty. Nevertheless, the castle itself still makes a very strong impression. The castle was also closely connected with Bona Sforza, the Queen of Poland. It was here that she spent part of her life as Duchess of Bari before leaving for Kraków and marrying Sigismund I the Old, and she later returned to Bari during the final years of her life after leaving Poland. She was eventually buried in the Basilica of Saint Nicholas, where her sarcophagus can still be seen above the altar.

At the same time, Bari does not end with its medieval quarter. Between the main railway station and the seafront lies a completely different part of the historic city – more ordered, significantly wider, and filled with elegant townhouses and representative streets. This district, developed mainly during the 19th century, presents Bari not as a medieval port, but as a modern Italian city shaped during the period of Italian unification. The most characteristic features here are the broad avenues, particularly Corso Vittorio Emanuele II and Corso Cavour. The architecture of this part of the city feels far more monumental and organised than in Bari Vecchia. Townhouses dating from the 19th and early 20th centuries dominate the streetscape, often featuring neoclassical and eclectic elements. While walking through this part of Bari, I occasionally had the impression that I was in a completely different city from the one located only a few streets away.

And perhaps that contrast is what I remember most strongly. Bari is not merely a postcard-perfect medieval town designed purely for tourists. It is a large, living city with a very long history, which for centuries served as an important port and a meeting place of different cultures present around the Adriatic. You can see medieval, Norman, and Byzantine influences here, but also the 19th-century ambitions of a modern city.

The history of Bari is much older than it may initially appear while walking through the modern city. Thanks to its location on the Adriatic coast, the settlement developed as a port already in antiquity and from the beginning remained connected with maritime trade and contacts between the Italian Peninsula, the Balkans, and the eastern Mediterranean. During the Roman period, Bari, then known as Barium, became one of the more important ports in southern Italy, although for a long time it remained overshadowed by larger cities of the region.

Towards the end of the 4th century was the empire administratively divided into western and eastern parts. Because Bari was located within Italy, it became part of the Western Roman Empire. After its collapse in the 5th century, however, the political situation in southern Italy remained unstable for a very long time. The city repeatedly changed rulers and came under the influence of the Lombards, Byzantium, and for a certain period also the Arabs. The Byzantine period turned out to be particularly important because Bari became one of the main administrative centres of Byzantium in southern Italy. As a result, the city remained closely connected for centuries with the trade and culture of the eastern Mediterranean, maintaining contacts between Italy, the Balkans, and the Greek world.

In the 11th century, Bari was conquered by the Normans, who began extensive expansion of the fortifications and strengthened the city’s role as an important commercial and military port. Part of the oldest fabric of Bari Vecchia dates precisely from this period. At the same time, the arrival of the relics of Saint Nicholas from Myra in 1087 transformed the city’s position within medieval Europe, turning Bari into one of the most important pilgrimage destinations on the Adriatic. The Basilica of Saint Nicholas was built specifically to house these relics. Saint Nicholas himself is also a much more historically significant figure than modern popular culture might suggest today, when he is associated mainly with Christmas traditions. For centuries he was one of the most important saints in Christianity, particularly venerated in the Byzantine world and eastern Christianity. This is also why the basilica in Bari continues to hold major importance for both Catholics and Orthodox Christians.

The Normans created a powerful state that included Sicily and much of southern Italy. The last Norman heiress of this kingdom, Constance of Sicily, married Henry VI of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the son of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. Through this marriage, the Hohenstaufens gained rights to the Kingdom of Sicily and, after the death of the last Norman ruler, took control of the entire state, including Bari. Their son was Frederick II, who spent part of his childhood in southern Italy and became very strongly connected with the region. One of the most important rulers of medieval southern Italy, he expanded and rebuilt several fortifications across the region, including the castle in Bari and the famous Castel del Monte.

After the decline of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, Bari later became part of the Kingdom of Naples. The Kingdom of Naples was a historical state that controlled most of southern Italy for many centuries, with Naples serving as its capital. It emerged during the Middle Ages and existed in various forms until the 19th century, when Italy was unified into a single country. Over the centuries, the kingdom itself was ruled by different dynasties, including the Angevins, Aragonese, and later the Spanish Bourbons. The city was repeatedly rebuilt and fortified, while its strategic position ensured that it played an important commercial and military role.

In the 19th century, Bari began expanding rapidly beyond its medieval walls. New representative districts with broad streets and elegant architecture inspired by the urban planning of modern European cities started to appear. It was during this period that much of the present-day centre of Bari took shape, creating a very visible contrast with the dense and narrow streets of Bari Vecchia.

Today, Bari is one of the largest cities in southern Italy and the capital of the Apulia region. Walking between medieval Bari Vecchia and the 19th-century avenues of the newer districts, it becomes very easy to see how the city evolved over the centuries. For me, however, Bari turned out also to be a very convenient place from which to explore the wider region. You can easily spend several days here focusing entirely on the city itself, but Bari works equally well as a starting point for further journeys around Apulia. And perhaps it is precisely this combination – everyday urban life, a historic centre, and an excellent location – that makes Bari stay in your memory much longer than you might initially expect.

Bari. At the Crossroads of Apulia