Coffee, the smell as I walked past was divine, there was a long queue. In the shop a young boy weighed the coffee, another wrapped the coffee up into little bundles with brown paper and sellotape, another stacked the coffee, another sold the coffee, another took the money for the coffee and finally someone watched the till!. I would like to wax lyrical about Turkish coffee but, no, it is vile stuff, more a soup than a drink, you have to drink it with a glass of water, what's the point? but the smell is something else.
All across Istanbul you will see people bent double carrying huge great bundles, often from store house to shop, in this case the shop is on his back. The Turks are nothing if not entrepreneurial, they will set up a stall to sell anything from lottery tickets to umbrellas, beware the dodgy men exchanging Euros, it will end in tears.