Day 16. 16th Oct 2009
Location: Istanbul
Status: Cleaner than some.
Lesson: Some times it better not to look.
Author: Simon
Even since we planned to visit Istanbul a real Turkish bath, a Hamam, has been on the agenda. Really it was after listening to a Radio One pod cast by a famous and funky international DJ. He blessed istanbul with his presents in search of new vibes, new tunes that he could drop into his sets. As part of the Podcast he discribes a Turkish bath.
On the first day we passed one of the more famous baths and one that was recomended in the guide book. The leaflet shows beautiful people lounging around and being pampered. Obviously this is the place for us.
It is split into male and female sections. Allowing no embarressment or distractions.
After paying at the reception I am ushered into the main front room where the cafe and gift shop are located and then upstairs to a little wood and glass room, given a small towel and, dispite the language barrier, instructed to take everything off.
I am not realy that shy and i am never going to see these people again, so i jumped in with both feet.
Anyway, I am thinner than most there, fitter than 90% of them, I assume my manhood is average to above average and my cute girlfriend who is next door being soaped up by a team of mermaids, goddesses and freshman year college girls, loves me. And there is no one hairer than a Turkish bath attendent.
In I go.
It's a very simple concept, lay on a very hot Marble platform called a göbektaşı (belly stone), a round central platform in the centre of a hot steamy room. Sweat out all dirt and toxins. Then approched by a large scantaly clad Turkish sumo wresler (nothing like the stunners that must be rubbing Davina down) who man handles you around. First is a dry scrub with a sandpaper mit. Now I consider myself to have average to above average personal hygine even though I am now a backpacker. I use soap and shower regularly. But my goodness did he scrape some shit off me! I must have lost 1kg of skin in 39seconds. I assumed I had built up a nice tan, but back to Lilly white now.
Location: Istanbul
Status: Cleaner than some.
Lesson: Some times it better not to look.
Author: Simon
Even since we planned to visit Istanbul a real Turkish bath, a Hamam, has been on the agenda. Really it was after listening to a Radio One pod cast by a famous and funky international DJ. He blessed istanbul with his presents in search of new vibes, new tunes that he could drop into his sets. As part of the Podcast he discribes a Turkish bath.
On the first day we passed one of the more famous baths and one that was recomended in the guide book. The leaflet shows beautiful people lounging around and being pampered. Obviously this is the place for us.
It is split into male and female sections. Allowing no embarressment or distractions.
After paying at the reception I am ushered into the main front room where the cafe and gift shop are located and then upstairs to a little wood and glass room, given a small towel and, dispite the language barrier, instructed to take everything off.
I am not realy that shy and i am never going to see these people again, so i jumped in with both feet.
Anyway, I am thinner than most there, fitter than 90% of them, I assume my manhood is average to above average and my cute girlfriend who is next door being soaped up by a team of mermaids, goddesses and freshman year college girls, loves me. And there is no one hairer than a Turkish bath attendent.
In I go.
It's a very simple concept, lay on a very hot Marble platform called a göbektaşı (belly stone), a round central platform in the centre of a hot steamy room. Sweat out all dirt and toxins. Then approched by a large scantaly clad Turkish sumo wresler (nothing like the stunners that must be rubbing Davina down) who man handles you around. First is a dry scrub with a sandpaper mit. Now I consider myself to have average to above average personal hygine even though I am now a backpacker. I use soap and shower regularly. But my goodness did he scrape some shit off me! I must have lost 1kg of skin in 39seconds. I assumed I had built up a nice tan, but back to Lilly white now.
Then he emptys a pillowcase of soap on you and rubs it into evey inch of skin. I now resemble a bar of soap that has been dropped in the shower and has no control over it's direction, speed or abilty to stop. I pray that he does not let go of me, who knows where I will end up.
He gives me a massage, cracks a few bones and then rinces me off. Next is a hair wash and they must use "no more tears" shampoo as I got loads in my eyes but it did not sting.
I was now allowed to return to the heated platform and lounge like a basking serpent for a while, but it was a little to hot for much basking. Quick shower to cool off and return, via the public areas, to my changing cubical.
As I leave the hot rooms I hear the attendends say somthing and laugh a little. I can only imagine it was:
"did you see that pueny white boy, what a small $$&@, bet that girlfriend of his who is currently being pumled by our friend the Turkish shotput champion does not even like him, bet she leaves him for a Turkish lover"
I feel very clean and it was an experience. But I do think I was given the "tourists package".
It was a good thing to do just before 20hours on the train to Bucharest.
The whole place made me think of "Health clubs" that an ex collegue frequents. Full of naked soaped up men being men. Not for me.
From: D
While I leave Si to his imagination I think I will enlighten you on what I saw on the other side. A naked woman size 20 or so shaving...but not her arms or legs.
Sent from my iPhone
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