Perhaps Kemeralti in Izmir where eastern and western goods mingle in the emporiums is a black hole of colour and sound in the world of memories...

We always used to enter that bewitching place through the same door. The history books say that it got its name Konak, or mansion, from the ancient arch by the entrance, although I never saw it. We used to make our way along the thronged streets, going in and out of shops selling all and sundry. It was probably the market's secret hands that placed little 'bonuses' strategically so that children would not explode with boredom and heat in the crowds in this fascinating unfathomable maze that I never deciphered until I grew up and could walk around by myself. Just past Ali Galip confectionery, whose wondrous flavours were a magnet for children, comes the unforgettable Meshur Konak sherbet seller on the corner of Birinci Beyler. Not being able to remember the taste of the ice-cold black mulberry sherbet would be like erasing my past.