I began sweating profusely as I laid face down on a hot
stone slab with 20 of my new closest friends. I was quite surprised when I
entered the Cemberlitas Turkish Bath and was greeted by 5 topless women
surrounded by plenty of other semi-nude patrons. As I laid in the sweltering
heat, feeling more like cooking in a turkey baster, than a soothing spa, I
couldn’t help wonder whether the liquid dripping down my nose was water
condensation from the humid air, or just plain sweat. I flipped over a few
times, roasting with a handful of strange women and a few of my friends for a
half an hour before a large topless woman tapped me on the leg and motioned to
follow her. I looked around at the other ladies and it seems this was the
custom. So, gathering my towel, I went to the other side of the stone slab.
The woman motioned for me to lay face down. She explained to
me that I was ready to be scrubbed since I had allowed myself to “moisten” long
enough. Apparently the water on my face and now body was, in fact, sweat- the
prime ingredient needed for a successful Turkish Bath. The women took a small
hand towel and began scrubbing me from head to toe, front and back. It felt
sort of like sandpaper along my skin. Luckily I was wearing the black underwear
given to me, compliments of the establishment, or else the bath scrub down
would have been extremely more awkward. Uncomfortable at first, the women
scrubbed even my chest, but I eventually got used to it because it seemed like
everyone was doing it. As she finished with the cloth, she brought my hand to
my stomach and giving me a stern look. It seems she believed I was quite dirty,
because she showed me all of the dirt and skin she had removed. Yes, it sounds
pretty gross, but luckily everyone I talked to had the same experience. The
curse of being tan from the sun- it comes off at a spa…and it’s noticeable. I
must have been one of the dirtier ones, because after she surrounded me with a
wall of soap bubbles, washing the rest of my body, she handed me the scrubber
to take home. I was the only one in my group of friends who was given the
“honor” to clean myself again back on the ship.
My bath mistress led me over to a wash station where she
rinsed me down and shampooed my hair. I enjoyed the little head massage, but
wasn’t quite sure whether I would be alive after almost drowning from all the
water unexpectedly dumped on my head. After the car-wash like experience with my body and hair clean, I was free to
socialize in the hot tub carved into the ground, which looked more like a small
warm swimming pool. I wanted to keep up with my friends because they were
finished a bit before me, so I only took a dip in and quickly left the sauna
room to wait for the next part of the spa treatment.
When I met my friends in the waiting room, there were no
more towels, so I had to awkwardly sit topless while I waited for my massage.
The wait was so worth it though. I’m a sucker for massages, and this one was
one of the best. I was even treated to a bonus facial during the 30 minutes of
heaven. When I emerged from the massage room I felt like a hundred pounds had
been lifted off my shoulders, leaving me weightless.
The Turkish Bath is not just a place for women to be washed and gossip, but also for men. From what I heard, the men did not have the same pleasant experience however. Seems they may be a bit more rough outside of the “females only” spa club. For me though, the Turkish Bath was by far my favorite activity I did the entire time in Turkey, and if I could go back, I would probably just ask if the bath rented rooms because I would stay there and go down for a daily washing each morning. When we left we received free postcards to send to our friends back home, probably to brag about the great experience and encourage others to visit in the future.
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