The scenes in Adrianople were full of typical Turkish disorder and laziness. The streets were crowded with people, but they looked unkempt and disorganized. Most of the men were half-dressed, and the women were covered up as though they were trying to hide their carelessness. The air was filled with angry shouts, street vendors shouting, and mules blocking the path. I could hear the loud cries of an iced lemonade seller. The noise and the heat were overwhelming.
A Peaceful Escape to the Caravanserai
Turning down a side street, we entered a caravanserai. This was the real East, just like in the stories of Haroun al-Raschid! It was a large, walled yard with tall buildings that were brightly painted, and had arched balconies. Trees with wide branches cast shadows over the pavement, creating a beautiful pattern of light and shade. In the center of the courtyard was a marble fountain, cracked but still beautiful, with water splashing in the sunlight. The cool sound of the water was a relief from the heat Bulgaria Vacations.
Sitting on a small platform were calm, dignified Turks, their beards dyed red, wearing loose, comfortable cloaks, and snowy-white turbans. One man had a green turban, showing that he had made the pilgrimage to Mecca. They smoked their narghiles (water pipes) slowly and thoughtfully, enjoying the peace of the moment. There was no rush or hurry here—just relaxation.
The Bazaars and the Foreign Goods
Next, we walked through the long, dimly-lit corridors lined with shops, known as bazaars. The sights were strange and colorful, nothing like Europe. The goods in the shops were from all over the world. The crockery was from Austria, the iron goods were from Germany, the cheap jewelry came from France, the bright cottons were from Lancashire, and the loud gramophones playing music to attract customers were made in America. The only thing that seemed Turkish was the dirt everywhere A Turkish Welcome.
