Currently browsing: turkey
I didn’t want to interrupt my Knitting & Crochet Blog Week posts, so this has been a little delayed. As I mentioned, I went to Istanbul the weekend before last, and here’s how I found the yarn market…
First we took the tram to Çemberlitaş. The next stop says “Grand Bazaar” but the tram was so packed we couldn’t stand another stop. Don’t go on saturday afternoons!
At Çemberlitaş we asked for directions, and a shopkeeper told us to follow the mosque round until we got to Mahmutpaşa Street. Following the mosque around is fairly easy, but figuring out what street you’re on, is not. Your best bet, if you’re a foreigner, is to have “Kürkçü Han” written on a piece of paper, and show it to someone every few steps. According to my friend, it’s best not to take just one person’s word for it.
Walking down Vezirhan Street…
Passing Nuru Osmaniye Mosque on the left…
Turning left here…
Having entered Kapalı Çarşı by the Kürçüler entrance, we turned right, and this is the street we were on.
At the end of this street we turned right…
…and were finally on Mahmutpaşa. We asked directions again, and someone pointed out the tiny corner of red building in the distance. There it is!
So close…
…and yet so far.
Here at last. The entrance is right below the sign. You can see the Nako advertisement that everyone mentioned on the Ravelry forums. It’s actually an advert for one of the shops upstairs, which is where I ended up going.
Squuueeezing through the narrow entrance…
… and into the courtyard. We couldn’t see much yarn at first glance, so we headed upstairs.
A view from upstairs, with a lovely display of acrylic fun fur. Mmm…
Gülüm Yün was the first shop we came across when we went upstairs (after the acrylic fun fur), so I dove in. There wasn’t anything very different from what I get in Ankara, though there was more choice in colour. They did have some oddments of yarns which are produced in Turkey, such as King Cole, and some Lion Brand (not much Alpine about Alpine Wool, I’m afraid), but I doubt that will tempt tourists all that much. :) Here’s what I got (without duplicates):
Fridica wrote a fascinating post about Unitas yarns that are different but have the same label, and someone commented that they did the same thing in Turkey with the “export” label. You can see from my “haul” that I have 2 yarns that are “Ormo Export” but are completely different. I’ve also seen a “Nako Export” label. I think these are just surplus yarns that they package up and sell any-which-way. From left to right: Nako Saf Yün (pure wool), King Cole Riot (70% “premium” acrylic, 30% wool), Ormo Export (nothing on the label), & Ormo Export (85% wool, 15% acrylic). The unidentified Export yarn knits up very soft and has nice colour transitions. It’s similar to the Riot, which I also bought purely on account of its colours. It’s a bit like a cheap acrylic version of Rowan Tapestry. The turquoise yarn is actually very nice too, and about 4ply weight. I really look forward to knitting with it.
On the Map
Cemberlitas Tram Station to Mahmutpasa St
The red spot marks the “Kürçüler” entrance to Kapalı Çarşı (sounds about right!).
Down Mahmutpasa to the Kürkcu Han
Of course, you don’t necessarily have to go the way we did. If possible, avoid going at the weekend, too. As you can see, all the streets are very narrow. We were so tired of being jostled, that we didn’t look anywhere else. Unfortunately getting out of the Kapalı Çarşı area took us almost longer than getting in! It’s still a great experience though, and if you have the time & perseverance to look around, I’m sure you’ll grab many good bargains.
What to Buy in Turkey?
- Cotton. Everyone says this & it’s true. There’s some really nice cotton around, though most of it is mercerised. A brand called Rozetti recently released an aran-weight natural cotton that is really nice (I used it for some potholders). I’ve noticed some nice bamboo yarn too, though I haven’t tried knitting with any.
- Accessories. You’ll find some really cheap & colourful notions in Turkish yarn shops. Some of the local knitting needles & crochet hooks can be a bit rubbish, but there’s plenty of really nice, cute stuff. Surprisingly, I’ve also come across a lot of Clover products here!
- Embellishments. Turkish haberdasheries are wonderful. Buttons, ribbons, lace, and loads more is to be found in profusion. I recommend you fill your boots. :)
Other things to do in Istanbul
Have mint gelato on Istiklal Street.
Have a late breakfast at the weekend. This was at Savoy in Cihangir. We also went to Midpoint on Istiklal which had a beautiful view, and unlimited tea.
I hope this post was helpful, and that you’ll visit Istanbul soon. If you know of any other good yarn shopping destinations, let me know in the comments!
It’s difficult to find good yarn in Turkey. This might surprise a lot of knitters, especially when it’s so commonplace to see “Made in Turkey” printed on ball-bands, but it’s true. It’s a recent innovation – no doubt fuelled by the demands of the new generation of knitters – to have yarns that are 100% wool, and 4ply has only been available for a season or two. I’ve been able to find some sock yarn, imported from Germany and available in uninspiring muted hues, or garish leftover colourways, but nothing that would sate most knitters these days. You can’t imagine the envy I feel at seeing all the delicious hand-dyed yarns that appear in my Ravelry friend stream every day.
You might think that Turkey (especially Ankara) would be rich in angora, being famous for its angora goats, but even that comes plied with acrylic, or polyamide, or nylon. I was amused when I found this ball of “vintage” Nako yarn when we were moving a few months ago. Mum thinks it’s left over from a slipover she knit in the 70s. The label says “Lüks Moher” (Luxury Mohair), which is funny because, as you can see, the yarn is 15% angora & 85% acrylic. “Tiftik”, from what I can gather, is technically the term for angora mohair, but can also be used to denote any fuzzy wool; “kalın” means “thick”. Nako is probably the largest yarn manufacturer in Turkey, and you will be comforted to learn that it is still keeping up this tradition of misleading yarn naming; they currently have a yarn called “Süper Angora”, which is made up of 35% Mohair & 65% Acrylic, while their regular “Angora” is 50% mohair & 50% acrylic. Even worse, their so-called “Ankara Tiftik” has only 20% mohair.
I have to say, I still like Nako yarns though. For all their inconsistency, their 50% wool, 50% acrylic “Nakolen” is my go-to yarn (last time I used it for my Parasol Stole), because it feels nice, doesn’t pill, and comes in a wide range of colours. It’s common in Turkish to spell out foreign words phonetically, so I’m assuming the “-len” here is a transliteration of “laine”, again, not entirely accurate. Their “Merino”, though, you will be glad to hear, is in fact 100% merino (I used it for my pink hottie cover). And not to be too harsh on Nako, even our beloved Rowan isn’t above wily naming tricks. Their “Cashsoft” collection is a little short on “cashmere”, and high on “cash” for my liking.
As my second yarn, I thought I would choose a contemporary yarn that shows the “modern face of knitting” in Turkey. This is “Derya’s Choice”. Not only mine, but my namesake, Derya Baykal’s. Quoted on the ball-band she says “I’m certain you’ll enjoy knitting as much as I do, with this yarn.” This “Super Pearl” certainly isn’t a bad yarn, and I love the colours that are available. I can’t help wondering how many colours were available when Mum was knitting her slipover in the 70s. I’m sure there was nothing like this on TV back then:
“‘Derya’s World’ from 14 March onwards, every weekday from 3pm – 6pm”! She looks rather sedate in the ball-band photo in comparison, doesn’t she? Her daily TV program (which has been going for years) is a whirlwind of crafts, cooking, and discussion, and is probably partly responsible for the rising popularity of knitting and crochet in Turkey. And consequently the growing variety in yarns. Personally, I’m looking forward to more wool. Thanks, Derya! :)
Note: This post is part of Knitting & Crochet Blog Week 2011.
Well may you ask! When I came back to Turkey for a few months, I hadn’t realised that a combination of heat, intermittent internet, and a general lassitude would keep me away from work for so long. Many events have passed unrecorded, including my birthday, and the Skein Queen contest I won, to name one of her gorgeous colourways. The name I entered was ‘Summerhouse Love’, and it’s fairly descriptive of my current state. Ironically, I must await my return to Wales to fondle the Plushness, but the cool colours will be a reminder of my indolent summer days. I had already treated myself to a hank of Skein Queen yarn for my birthday (look at Deb’s gorgeous packaging! I admired it for a long time before I let myself open it), along with a tiny hank of Artist’s Palette ‘Glisten’. Really, the difficulty of the larger questions of life (its meaning, what one should do with it, etc.) pale in comparison with the painful hours of deciding which colourway of handpainted yarn to purchase.
Much of my time has been spent reading, listening to Cole Porter songs, taking photos of congruous colours, and of course, doing a lot of mindless knitting. These socks are now finished, though it’s too hot to wear them.
I mentioned in my entry to the Skein Queen competition, how much I love summerhouse novels. Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, Proust’s Swann’s Way (the only one of the series I’ve managed to read so far), and Colette’s Ripening Seed are the chief ones that occur to me. To a lesser extent perhaps von Arnim’s The Enchanted April (which I suppose is not summer), Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited, Forster’s A Room with a View, and maybe even Bellow’s Herzog, though they’re all very different books. Admittedly A Room with a View doesn’t even involve a house, but it is still one of my favourites.
And if you’re looking for musical accompaniment, here is my Cole Porter mixtape:
- I Concentrate on You by Frances Wayne
- I Loved Him but He Didn’t Love Me by Kaye Ballard
- Get Out of Town by Chris Connor
- Night and Day by Ella Fitzgerald
- Just One of Those Things by Diana Krall
- I’m in Love Again by Bobby Short
- The Laziest Gal in Town by Marlene Dietrich
- Where Have You Been? by Judy Holliday
So close to your side I’ll stay,
You can never say,
“Baby, where have you been?”
These types of knitted slippers – called ‘çetik’ (cheh-teek) – are quite common in Turkish villages. Most village women produce such handiwork to supplement the household income. They are gorgeous, comfortable, and made by very skilled hands, and the next time you’re in Turkey, I hope you make it a priority to purchase at least one pair. I’ve been given a few pairs over the years, often brought by friends and acquaintances from their own villages, but this pair I’d like to share with you is particularly special to me.
They were given to me by my hostess on a school trip to a village just outside Ankara. Our aim was to fulfil the ’service’ requirements of our IB curriculum; we were to play games and teach the children, deliver our old computers to them, and paint a pretty mural in their dining hall. Our work took us two days, and several families in the village put us up for one night. Although we were the ones bestowing the supposed “charity,” it was the generosity of our hostess that really touched me. She laid on lavish meals for my friend and I, seated on the floor with the traditional large, round tray. Their house seemed very spacious to me. Everyone I knew lived in the city, in flats that were crammed with furniture. Their timber house had a barn downstairs, and stone steps that led down to a courtyard where chickens wandered about. One of the children brought in a kid, which ran up and down the hall baa-ing for its mother. On the other side of the house was a small garden with mulberry trees and a vegetable patch. Further on were the barns that housed their cows. The village smelt rather pungently of animals and manure, and you had to watch your step as you walked along the narrow streets, and give way to herds of goats (and goatherds). On the way to school in the morning the children picked daisies and poppies and pistachios.
It looked almost idyllic to me, and yet our hostess was very apologetic and humble. She said things must be so much nicer and cleaner in the city, she was sorry they couldn’t do better. She brought out two large bags, one with knitted slippers, and one with headscarves with edges worked in delicate needle lace. I chose this pair of slippers, and a lovely dark red headscarf. I thought the bold, beautiful strawberry motif was unusual, not like the traditional, abstract motifs of Turkish socks. I imagined my hostess deciding to knit something a little different one day, sitting on the divan, alone in the living room while the children were at school and her husband asleep (he worked night shifts at the mine), crossing her legs in the shalvar she wore, and expertly choosing the colours. The black shows off the red and green to perfection. The knitting is tight, so that the slipper is hard-wearing, and the strawberries which appear upside down when the slippers are laid flat, smile up at me the right way round when I wear them. I don’t wear them too often though, because they’re so special.
They remind me of the strawberries my Granddad grows. When I was little and we visited England every other summer, my Granddad would present me with the first big, ripe, juicy, sweet, bright red strawberry of the season, and I would eat it with my Weetabix (another treat we couldn’t get in Turkey) for breakfast. They remind me of the cold winters of Turkey, and the warm red glow of the summers. They remind me of Morris’s ‘Strawberry Thief‘, and of the strawberries ripening outside the cottage right now, in Wales. But most of all, I suppose, they remind me of the generosity of this knitter. I hope she doesn’t consider herself poor for living in a village rather than a city. I hope she realises that she’s an artist, and knows that I treasure these slippers she spent hours working on. I know they must have been hard to part with.
10 April, 2011 | 
tags: 
