From Gatwick to Goa: Got scrubbed, Turkish style : Antalya

We've been scrubbed. Manhandled. Cracked. Soaked. Slapped. Bathed. We indulged on a hamam (Turkish bath), a Turkish tradition of public bathing. The hamam dates back to the Roman and Byzantine tradition, when water (hence bathing) was scarce at home and bathing became a social ritual. Men would come go to hamams to bathe and chit chat over sports and politics while the ladies would go and keep a watchful eye for wives suitable for their sons. The one we decided to go to was in Antalya, the biggest port city in Turkey. It was 600 years old and the bathing chambers used were still the originals.

First, we entered the camekan, which is the area with the changing cubicles that usually surround a marble fountain. There, we were told to strip naked and handed a pastamal , a checkered cloth which we wore like a sarong.

Then, we were off to the hararet (steam room) which was a fascinating place to be in. Architects put ALOT of work in the hararet. A domed, octagonal room with intricate water basins and of course, the heated marble platform in the middle known as the navel stone. The accoustics were amazing (x6 they told us). You could hear every water drop and the door slams always made you jump. It somewhat made me think of dungeon sounds (although this would be one heavenly dungeon!!) If you've seen alot of mafia movies, this is where the secret discussion scenes take place, on the navel stone. We lied down on the stone for a while. I felt like a lizard enjoying a heated rock.

You can also use the hamam as a place to give yourself a bath (and not get the full rub-down). Men were bathing themselves in the basin. Big bellies, lots of hair. Others were also laying on the navel stone. THANK GOODNESS Chris came with me.

Then, the attendants came (Chris' was an old fella who enjoyed some navel stone time before getting to work. Mine was a short, big-bellied man who reminded me of an overweight Cheech), soaked us in hot water and scrubbed and scrubbed with the exfoliating mitt, without missing a spot (okay, maybe a couple of spots that are no-no places for attendents). Under the arms, the neck, the armpits...we were a couple of rag dolls. Chris admits he's never had another man so close to his junk before. At one point I opened my eyes to check out what was happpening on his side and he had the pastamal (sarong) bunched on his thang....I laughed quietly and closed my eyes.

Then came the actual bath. We were doused with bubbles and then messaged, well no, more pummeled clean. After getting every nook and cranny (including the face, minus the no-no parts), they rinsed us off with hot water. My attendent liked to SLAP ! and then message whereas Chris' like to CRACK ! and then message. We were told to sit up and our hair was shampooed. Wow, we had been bathed.

Enjoying some çay and fruıt

Sleepy, dehydrated yet very very clean.

Antalya is a beautiful harbour city with great views and a very unique old part : Kaleici. Pensiyons are the Turkish guesthouses, or hostels if you will. They were everywhere in the old city of Kaleici. The best part was that they were usually restored Ottoman homes made of timber or stone. This was ours, Abad Pensiyon. But it was not a bad one at all (hyuk hyuk).