Revisiting Istanbul’s Pera Palace Hotel and Spice Bazaar

Cathy, with the owner of the finest oriental rug emporium in Istanbul.

Cathy, with the owner of the finest oriental rug emporium in Istanbul.

I am re-reading Charles King's magnificent book, Midnight at the Pera Palace: The Birth of Modern Istanbul, and I am there again in every line.  There is an English bookstore on the end of Istakal Street that is near the Pera Palace Hotel where I stayed for three nights with my friend Chomsri in January 2014—before so much changed in that beautiful city.  It is the most beautiful hotel I have ever or most likely ever will experience.

In the Spice Bazaar, located where you enter not far from the New Mosque, there is the most exquisite small shop owned by an older couple whose pictures are displayed atop a cabinet filled with gorgeous scarves and antique fabrics.  The downstairs is all antique fabrics and clothes.  This is a picture of the beautiful young Turkish woman from whom I bought a scarf—the very one she is wearing.  The shop It is an exquisite oasis of quiet and beauty across from a spice store that tourists are often brought to, including Martha Stewart whose picture is displayed above the caviar and saffron.  

Shop in the Spice Bazaar in Istanbul.

Shop in the Spice Bazaar in Istanbul.

On our final day in Istanbul, Chomsri and I went rug hunting.  After resisting the temptation for days, we headed to the Hagia Sophia mosque and walked down a side street to the Four Seasons Hotel in the Sultanamet neighborhood.  At the end of the street, we found a marvelous, family-run city shop with stacks of gorgeous rugs, some Kurdish dowry rugs.  It is by reputation the best in the city.  The owner has three sons.  One lives in Canada, one in Japan, one works there in the store.  The father who dresses like an elegant, retired Ataturk just remarried this July...a French woman.  I love this family and the dance we danced getting to a price we could all live with.

Such memories are rekindled each time I see the spectacular Kurdish rug that now lives at Boomerang Creek and am reminded of that magic visit to Istanbul.

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