pain is nothing to me now! next step, childbirth!!!
in an effort to make amends with our angry skin, laurren and i indulged in the full treatment at the hamami (turkish bath) the next day. i have to say that it was really relieving to not be the only gangly, confused tourist in this adventure! even finding the place was a task in itself. with lonley planet in hand our eyes skanned every corner for any sign of a street name (an anomaly in turkey). we were literally chased out of a few hamamis on acount of our using the man's entrance instead of the woman's! the third time this embarrassing event repeated, lauren had the brilliant idea of jumping in a cab and letting the taxi driver deal with locating it. in an amusing turn of events, he drove around the block to a place we had previously traversed! we paid him the 3.6 turkish lira and scurried into the correct entrance this time.
from the beginning, we were in a haze -a white haze. following the prompts of the women working there, we decorated our shoes with plastic booties and followed their lead to our changeroom. nervous and naive, we didn't know what norm to prepare for. in another stroke of genius, laurren decided to take a trip to the bathroom to scope out the scene to see what was appropriate (not) to wear. against the objections of the women working there, she scuttled through the steam to the bathroom, took a peek and reported back. we then stumbled out with our towels on and the provided plastic sandals. we were led into this high ceiling marble heaven lined with taps overflowing the vases beneath with water. captivated and slightly shocked, we slowly caught on to the sequence that we were to follow: wet selves with water like bathing goddesses, lie face up on pedastal in the middle of the room, endure the pain of exfoiliating recently waxed legs, turn when tapped on the bum two times, delight in watching large amounts of expired skin shed, get rinsed, lie a second time face up, notice the natural sunlight sparkling through star shaped sky lights, get lathered and massaged, turn when tapped on the bum two times, resist the urge to fall asleep in relaxed state, stand up and stooper over vase a second time, rinse self at leisure -and i mean leisure! mid massage, a woman broke out into a haunting hum filling the entire room with echos of minor messages.
yes, the turks certainly do have it figured out! if only ron andrews would catch on...
in an effort to make amends with our angry skin, laurren and i indulged in the full treatment at the hamami (turkish bath) the next day. i have to say that it was really relieving to not be the only gangly, confused tourist in this adventure! even finding the place was a task in itself. with lonley planet in hand our eyes skanned every corner for any sign of a street name (an anomaly in turkey). we were literally chased out of a few hamamis on acount of our using the man's entrance instead of the woman's! the third time this embarrassing event repeated, lauren had the brilliant idea of jumping in a cab and letting the taxi driver deal with locating it. in an amusing turn of events, he drove around the block to a place we had previously traversed! we paid him the 3.6 turkish lira and scurried into the correct entrance this time.
from the beginning, we were in a haze -a white haze. following the prompts of the women working there, we decorated our shoes with plastic booties and followed their lead to our changeroom. nervous and naive, we didn't know what norm to prepare for. in another stroke of genius, laurren decided to take a trip to the bathroom to scope out the scene to see what was appropriate (not) to wear. against the objections of the women working there, she scuttled through the steam to the bathroom, took a peek and reported back. we then stumbled out with our towels on and the provided plastic sandals. we were led into this high ceiling marble heaven lined with taps overflowing the vases beneath with water. captivated and slightly shocked, we slowly caught on to the sequence that we were to follow: wet selves with water like bathing goddesses, lie face up on pedastal in the middle of the room, endure the pain of exfoiliating recently waxed legs, turn when tapped on the bum two times, delight in watching large amounts of expired skin shed, get rinsed, lie a second time face up, notice the natural sunlight sparkling through star shaped sky lights, get lathered and massaged, turn when tapped on the bum two times, resist the urge to fall asleep in relaxed state, stand up and stooper over vase a second time, rinse self at leisure -and i mean leisure! mid massage, a woman broke out into a haunting hum filling the entire room with echos of minor messages.
yes, the turks certainly do have it figured out! if only ron andrews would catch on...
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