How bazaar

*I apologize for the title of this post; it couldn’t be helped.*

My flight to Warsaw was in the afternoon, which gave me plenty of time to sleep in, take the bus from Izmit and then take the train from the bus station to the airport. Or, it would have, had I not left my passport and yellow fever vaccination proof in, of all places, my pillow case at the hostel. (All you travelers out there who hide valuables in pillow cases: Sorry for outing you. But really, it’s not a good hiding place anyway, you know.)

Eleanor Friedberger – My Mistakes

My plans then changed to having just enough time to wake up early, catch an early bus, take the train, then the tramway, then the funicular, get my passport, walk a kilometer, take the tramway, then take the train to the airport.

Somewhere in between, though, I lucked out with timing and noticed during my second tramway trip that I had an extra 45 minutes. For some reason, perhaps because I am a glutton for punishment, I decided that now would be, with my enormous and heavy backpack strapped on, the perfect time to wander about Istanbul’s famous Grand Bazaar in search of a copper Turkish coffee pot.

Thao & Mirah – Rubies and Rocks

For all the obvious reasons, this was rather foolish, and I emerged from Gate #5 sweaty, sore, overwhelmed and convinced my name was actually “Hey lady!!” But I was on time for my flight, and I had my passport — and a new coffee pot.

1 comment
  1. yea…! good call on the market. love the photos…and keep up the awesome travels =)

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