I often write about markets, perhaps because as a a child, my imagination was fired up by stories about exotic markets with fluttering fabrics and adventures down narrow alleyways. The result is that, in every city I visit, I visit the market. The great market of Cairo, Khan el-Khalili, is extremely touristy, but maybe I should have appreciated getting away from the traffic.
I think I prefer the one in Istanbul. When I lived in Colombia, one of my favorite places in Bogota was the Paloquemao market.
In Peru, I went regularly on field trips to explore the markets. One thing I recall is that they always had a bathroom. I went to a couple of “dicey” ones including the fabric market near Sodom, Gamarra. When I visited the fish market, it seemed like it would be something from a Tarantino film but the reality was more late night shopping channel.
Another surreal place was the market in Caracas. There was an abundance of food but no one could afford it.
When I moved to Bangladesh, I had no idea what the markets would be like.
Another market that I return to all the time is Torvehallerne in Copenhagen.
