Travel

Hammam

This morning I met some fellow school mates who have moved here. Drank a lot of Turkish Coffee.  Bought Simits, a sort of round pretzel, for the journey tomorrow, as well as peanuts coated with sesame seeds and locum wrapped in rose petals. Trawled a few shops for old photos, the best being a shot of a submarine on the Bosphorus.

Spent the hot afternoon in an even hotter Hammam, ladling hot water over myself to cool off (though I cheated and turned on the cold tap a lot). Marble sinks, tiles white with lime, the sound of running water and echoed voices.  Felt a bit like being a large toddler with women in threadbare bikini bottoms slapping one to turn over and scrubbing and shampooing.  Though she splashed me hard with evident delight the lavender body wash did not seem to rinse off and made my skin so sticky that walking back to the apartment I caught floating midges on my skin like I was fly tape, and the hair washing gave me some insight into what waterboarding must be like. Yet, when I sat down on the sofa later I felt completely relaxed and content.