HARD bargaining at Istanbul's Grand Bazaar

A notorious non-shopper on holidays, Istanbul's Grand Bazaar held no attraction for myself. I took a quick stroll inside yesterday, entering at Gate 1 (pictured), walked long the main passageway for ten minutes or so, reached Gate 7 at the other end and then exited into bright sunlight. Smiling smugly, I mentally ticked off one of Istanbul's major tourist attractions from the must-see list. Been there, done that.

However, this afternoon's clouds that darkened the sky and threatened rain at any moment forced me to duck inside the world's oldest and largest covered bazaar for a second time. 

The stats are certainly impressive - built in the fifteen century, the Grand Bazaar has 21 gates, 66 streets, nearly 4,000 shops and almost 30,000 employees inside - and hosts millions of tourists looking for bargains on silver jewelry, fake Abercrombie and Polo apparel, and all other sorts of merchandise I had no interest in buying.

Strolling around the bazaar, I eventually grew weary of seeing the same goods displayed at multiple stalls, but did a double take upon seeing several figurines (look right) nestled on top of "Turkish Viagra" bottles, which left no doubt as to the potency of the product.  

Curious, I asked the young lad manning the stall what Turkish Viagra was made of. He vaguely replied, "A combination of herbs and spices", then proceeded to offer me a small bottle for 15 lira ($8.50). I declined, thinking to myself, "Sounds like snail oil", yet  amused by the verbiage on the bottle's label claiming that "you will be able to make love five times in one night".

"Well, how do you know that it really works?", I inquired. Even the lad, who couldn't be more than fifteen years old, chuckled at that one and shrugged his shoulders. 

"I don't want to buy it. I just want a photo", I explained, obviously not the first person to do so.

"Sorry, mister, no photos", he replied, pointing to the sign above the smiling figures lined up side by side, as if waiting to launch their missiles.

Spotting assorted bars of olive oil soap stacked among his merchandise, with a sign indicating "4 bars - 10 lira" ($5.60), I tried a different bargaining tack.

"Well, if I buy four bars of soap, will you let me take a photo?". Surely he would be eager to make a sale and grant a small favor to this polite tourist.

He pondered the offer, and countered, "Okay. Three bars and a photo for ten lira". 

It was my turn to consider. "Nah, this is stupid", I said to myself, "I'm not into strongly scented hand made soap anyway", and started to move away after waving him goodbye.

"Wait, wait", he called out, after I had taken a grand total of two steps. "Okay, four bars of soap and a photo for ten lira. Only for you, my friend". I smiled widely in response. I repeated his phrase in agreement, handed over the correct note, picked four colorful bars at random, and carefully sized up various angles before taking a lone photo.

Both sides had emerged victorious in the bargaining process. He had his money, while I had my photo, a memorable anecdote, and would surely be the freshest smelling tourist in Turkey (and Europe) for the next month. Shopping while on holiday wasn't quite so bad after all.