Saturday: The Baths and the Bazaar

Saturday, October 20th, 2012: The Baths and the Bazaar 

(Steve writing) One of the appealing things about this itinerary was the fact that it included an overnight in Istanbul plus another half-day in port. After breakfast in “the trough”, we met up with Michael and Shaun at 8:00. We headed toward the tram and took the T1 line to the Çemberlitaş (pronounced “chem-behr-lee-tahsh”) stop in the Old Town. The stop was across the street from one of the oldest hamams (Turkish Bath) in Istanbul, the Çemberlitaş Hamimı, built in the late 16^th century for the Sultan’s mother, designed by famous architect Sinan.

At 8:30 in the morning, the hamam was fairly quiet. Very little English was spoken, but through a series of mono-syllabic instructions (e.g. “change”, “down”, “wash”, “sit”, etc.) and much pointing, we managed to make it through just fine. While this hamam was available for both sexes (separated), we didn’t see any women come in until we were leaving.

We each got a key and a kese (a raw-silk mitten used to exfoliate skin) and were sent upstairs to our small private rooms where we changed out of our clothes and put on peştemals (a large piece of cotton fabric – sort of like a towel but thinner material) and slippers. We were then directed back down to the main floor and entered the hot, wet central section of the bath, the caldarium (Shaun remarked later that this part of the experience was very Imperial-Roman in feel). A giant, somewhat curved round marble slab occupied the central section of the room. We took off our slippers and were told to lay face-up on the stone (which was hot - and even hotter toward the center). Above, the domed-ceiling was broken up by openings for natural light. It was humid and mostly quiet.

One attendant was dedicated to each person: I had a nice, burly, mustachio’d man probably a few years older than myself. For some reason he thought I was Spanish, and later complimented me on my moustache. “Like Turk”, he remarked.

The attendant used a brass bowel to get warm water from nearby taps and then poured it all over me. This took several trips, and then he told me to use the overturned bowl as a headrest (a most welcome relief from that hot stone). He then used the kese to soap me up and gave me the exfoliation of my life. It was heavenly! He wasn’t too rough, and we repeated the process for my back side. He then had me sit over the edge of the giant stone with my feet dangling, where he soaped and massaged my head. Again, heavenly.

Since this process was done on all of the participants almost simultaneously, Shaun and I were done at about the same time. Each of our attendants directed us to go to a cooling area for a few minutes, and then shower, and use fresh towels to dry off. We were both glowing from the experience. Eventually we were sent back to our rooms to further cool down and change. We turned in our keys and waited in the multi-story open area which all of the men’s room surrounded. Shaun said it reminded him of a Japanese bath house – probably due to all the wood work. Allan got a bloody nose and was given several cotton balls to stanch the bleeding.

(I was let’s say… most pleased with my attendant in the hamam. More so than the rest of our merry band. Mine was a beast of a Turk: probably 55 yrs old, about 210 lbs., with a handsome, but well worn,  squarish and kindly face. His eyes twinkled mischievously when he smiled. He was about my height [5’10”], with broad shoulders, medium-short wavy black hair, and a bushy moustache – and very cute slightly chubby cheeks. Oh – and nicely hairy in all the right places.

It took him a few tries before I understood that I was to take a place one “layer in” toward the center of the marble slab. It was very hot inside the caldarium, and I don’t frequent saunas or steam rooms, so it took me awhile to acclimate to the room. It did feel truly old – nearly ancient, and had a wonderfully comfortable and languorous vibe about it.

After I’d been lying on the slab for about 10 minutes, my Beast pulled me over to the edge [like a side of Lamb] and began sluicing me down with hot water. Then he grunted at me with a smile and motioned for me to turn over. I did so and he began soaping me up and mercilessly kneaded my claves, thighs, and back with his strong but soft hands. I nearly cried out when he was doing my calves; they were probably quite tight and a bit sore from the never ending shuffle of the day before. He grunted at me again to turn over, which I did. [It’s probably a good thing he gave me some pain in the process of the washing or I most likely would’ve had a woody and turning over would have been a little embarrassing]. He went through the exfoliation with the silk mitt and made quite a show of the rolls of skin he managed to scrape off my arms and chest/belly. He seemed very pleased by this, as was I…except (grrr) when he was nearly finished with my scalp and face as Steve mentioned he reopened a very small wound I had on my nose that must be right on a capillary. I immediately started leaking blood from the wound – copiously, but enough to be worrisome both for me and for the Beast. He was very sweetly concerned and dashed out to get some cotton for me then scooted me over to the shower. I was once again mortified [the day before
I managed to start bleeding again just as we were entering the Blue Mosque – FABULOUS! I thought, now I’ve brought some Muslim curse down upon myself for shedding blood in a Mosque…], but I dutifully showered and by the time I came out my bleeding had stopped. I told the Beast I had a tip for him but needed to get it from my room. He seemed to understand this, asked if my nose was OK and sent me off to my room to change. As Steve notes below I tipped the Beast 20 TL which he seemed pleased with. I actually wished we had sprung for the “full meal deal” – with a 30 minute massage after the bath, but we all opted for the “traditional” treatment. When we left the hamam I felt like a new Lamb: freshly washed, scrubbed, and glowing… Heavenly! – afk).

One last note; we were encouraged (by our attendants) to tip them. I tipped TL5.00, but discovered later that the other guys tipped TL20.00 each. I felt terrible, and they really rode me on it: “Now the poor guy won’t be able to feed his family” and “I’m sure the family cat was tasty for dinner”. Heaping, steaming piles of guilt, delivered ad nauseum for the rest of the day.

In our post-hamam glow, Shaun and I bought some börek: phyllo pastry stuffed with sweet cheese. Let’s call it a Turkish Danish. It’s made in large sheets, then cut lengthwise, and then cut into smaller, bite-sized slices. It was warm when we bought it, but wasn’t as sweet as we were expecting (or hoping for). Oh – and kept in a cardboard box all day, the grease comes right through (good thing it was in a plastic bag).

Our other goal of the day was to return to the Spice Market and actually purchase some items. On the way there we went through a retail area that had groups of items for sale (as we had in Paris as well). For example, many stores selling nothing but stationary, then stores selling hats (Shaun and Michael each got one, then realized the same hats at the next store were cheaper. Too late.), then stores selling electronics, and so forth. Allan popped into one place and come out with a $20 pair of Levis jeans. I think they’re knock-offs. But he was happy. (Yes they probably were and yes I was/am happy with them – afk).

Eventually we made it to the Spice Market and since it’s smaller than the Grand Bazaar, we managed to survive (and actually purchase some things). Allan bought some saffron, curry, dry vegetable spice (to be used with rice and soup), lemon ginger tea, and several boxes of Turkish Delight (called lokum in Turkish). It’s a sweet cube of gelatin dusted with powdered sugar, sometimes embedded with nuts. This one particular vendor seemed to have the freshest and the most interesting varieties. We all left with bags in hand (although the “market shuffle” had worn us out a bit).

We walked across the Galata Bridge, enjoying the views across the Golden Horn and the Bosporous. We caught the T1 tram back to the Findikli strop and strolled back to the ship. During our stay in port, the ship was joined by the Regent Seven Seas Navigator and the NCL Norwegian Spirit. After we got on board, we ditched our purchases and went to the Silhouette Dining Room to experience lunch there. It was good, as all other meals have been, and as we were enjoying our dessert, the ship left the dock on schedule at 1PM and headed south and west toward the Sea of Marmara.

Allan and I went up on deck and watched as we slowly passed the major structures in the Old Town that we had visited the prior day: the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and Topkapi Palace (the vastness of the latter was quite apparent from the water). Since we had arrived in Istanbul in darkness, we were shocked to see how huge the city was. There were tall apartment buildings in all directions, and dozens of ships waiting to come into port. Clearly the city’s importance is still relevant in the 21^st century.

Afternoon naps were in order, and then that night we ate in the second specialty restaurant, the Tuscan Grill. The theme was Italian, and the food was quite good. The service was terrific, with a delightful Ukrainian waitress and a Croatian assistant. The setting was in the rear of the ship, with large windows all around. We actually went through the Dardenelles during our dinner – not as interesting in the dark.

So we ended our experience of incredible Istanbul. We were all so taken with the city (and with the Turkish people and food) that we discussed how best to return; perhaps a five-day stay followed by a week-long Black Sea cruise. We’ll see….

(Just a quick side note here: yes! we loved Istanbul, we will definitely return. The swarthy, hairy, hot Turkish men [beasts and monkeys all], the delicious and exotic food, and the rich sense of history and antiquity here could not help but draw us back someday. – afk)