Kelly was able to fly out and join us for our last week in Istanbul. She’s also volunteered to be our guest writer. Here’s her first foray into blogging…
Christine has been dying to get scrubbed and buffed for weeks now, but wasn’t so keen on visiting the hamam for a naked group bathing experience without a buddy. Can you blame her? Since most hamams have separate bathing areas for men and women, that ruled out Mike as partner in crime. So, from the moment I booked my ticket to Istanbul, she started plotting our visit to the 300 year-old Cagaloglu Hamam. I was thinking we might spend a few days exploring the city and building up some grime before making our way to the baths, but Christine had other plans…
Undeterred by a blinding rainstorm, Christine navigated us through a series of narrow alleys of Sultanahmet where Cagaloglu is located. We got there around 5pm thinking we would check out the facilities, and if they looked clean, that we would take the proverbial plunge. What happened next can only be described as chaotic induction into this unique Turkish custom. Without warning, we found ourselves swept along with a group of Eastern European tourists who were frantically trying to buy their tickets. Somehow, in that frenzy, the plan to take a tour first and then decide went out the door along with 40 Euro. In exchange, we found ourselves holding a pair of tickets for the “Luxe Package” and giggling with nervous laughter as waited to enter the emporium to get our scrubbing mits and contemplate souvenir soap and towel sets.
Fast forward 10 minutes. We make our way down the hallway, past the men’s bathing section, to the women’s changing area–a large room with an empty fountain in the middle, and private changing rooms along all sides. A woman hands each of us a key to a cabin along with a small towel. From there we are led through a series of doors into the main bath–a cavernous, marble-lined dome with a large marble dias in the middle, and small marble wash basins spaced periodically along the perimeter. Naked women sit near the basins dousing themselves with water and waiting to be called to the center platform where they will be scrubbed from head to toe by one of the attendants. It feels like we’ve stepped back 2000 years in time. Christine and I make our way toward a basin in the back corner of the room and gingerly sit down on the marble floor. What do you say to your best friend when the two of your are suddenly surrounded by naked chicks, and all that separates you from them is a flimsy towel??? Even more importantly, where do you cast your gaze? Before we can contemplate an answer to that question one of the attendants gives us a disapproving look and tells us to take off our towels and hang them on the hook near the basin.
Without a towel, our only method of staying warm was to start dousing ourselves with hot water which we did until suddenly one of the attendants called me over to the center platform. It was time to lose some skin. After minutes of scrubbing, soaping, and shampooing, punctuated by rounds of rinsing, I emerged fresh as a newborn baby.
