From the second you walk into the spice market in Istanbul, your senses come under attack. The babble of thousands of people talking in myriad languages is deafening for the first few minutes until you adapt, but even more ferocious is the attack of your eyes by the incessant displays of colour.
Spices that I know, cumin, turmeric and cardoman rub shoulders with flavours unknown to me, panch phoran, grain of paradise and ghost chilli powder.
Walking into one of the traders stalls, the nose comes under fire, the mix of a thousand foreign smells invade the nostrils, all vying for attention. Some are picked out and recognised, others leave me wondering.
Its a tourist trap, small, delightfully packaged packs of their wares costing much more than in a local shop I’ve no doubt, but as an experience, if you’re in Istanbul, it’s an absolute must see.