Cagaloglu Hamami
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Istanbul,
Turkey
Friday, November 16, 2007
After leaving Jess and the girls, my first challenge was to work out how to catch the tram. It turned out to be pretty easy - I just had to buy a token for 1.30 lira and walk through the turnstile. It's the same price for all trips. The tram was absolutely jam-packed. I could hardly move.
My fist port of call was the Archaeological Museum. This is a vast collection of antiquities and well worth a visit. I spent a couple of hours wandering though the exhibits, which were up to 4500 years old. My favourite exhibit was the remarkably preserved Alexander's Sarcophagus.
After this it was time to steel myself and head to the hammam. The one I had chosen was Cagaloglu Hamami, perhaps the most famous in Istanbul, maybe even the world. It is 300 years old and is featured in the book '1000 places to see before you die.'
I walked down the marble entranceway with more than a little nervousness. I wasn't sure what was in store. As I entered I observed 30 or so men sitting around chatting, some in towels. I was offered a menu of services, everything from a 'self service bath' (whatever that is) for 24 lira up to a 'grand experience'. I chose the middle 'complete experience' which involved a massage, a wash and a bath. The cost was 51 lira, which was a little more than I had expected based on guidebooks and Internet research.
I paid my money and was led around the corner to a shop where I was offered an exfoliation mitt that would be used on me. 'It is nicer to have your own personal mitt rather than a used one' the man on the desk told me. Who could argue with that? I didn't fancy the dead skin of other people being used on me. Still another 10 lira down.
I was then led to my changing cubicle, a spacious room where I took off all my clothes and wrapped myself in a tiny red towel that was provided to me. I left the room and took the key with me. I was led by a large Turkish man wrapped in a blue towel - my 'attendant'. He showed me another door and told me to go in.
I entered a large, very warm, very humid room. The room was quite large and domed. It was all marble, including the dome. The hammam is 300 years old and I thought immediately of the many baths that had taken place in this room, and what the average patron might have made of me 300 years ago.
In the centre of the room was a large marble slab at sitting height, about 6 or 7 meters in diameter. Around the edges were several small alcoves and fonts and sitting areas for washing.
There were a couple of men dressed, like me, in tiny red towels sitting on the central slab. I sat too. The slab was quite warm to touch. I began to sweat. I guessed that I was to wait there until my attendant came to get me. Attendants came to get the other men. Other men entered and sat, and then their attendants came and got them. I was beginning to think that I had been forgotten. Sniff, sob. But wait. Here was my large Turkish man coming to see me. He brought with him a cushion, which he placed down and asked me to lie down on my back, head on the cushion.
He began to massage me. This consisted of him grabbing my flesh and pressing hard. He started on my legs, applying pressure. Then he massaged my stomach using the same technique. He asked me to position my arms a particular way, then pressed down very hard and I felt every bone in my back crack. Ouch. Then I was asked to roll over and the same procedure was applied to my back. After about 10 minutes of this my massage was over.
My attendant motioned for me to go to one of the alcoves and sit down. I did as I was told and he started pouring hot water over my head. He did this until I was completely soaken. Out came the exfoliation mitt, which rubbed off all the dead skin I didn't know I had. The concept was a bit revolting actually, but it felt quite nice. Then more water poured over me.
My attendant then offered me a 'super massage' (presumably not the Turkish version of a happy ending) but I declined anyway. The next stage was the wash. I was washed all over with a large soapy towel. Then my hair was washed too. Then more water poured over me.
Then it was all over. My attendant shook my hand and informed me that his tip was 10 lira. Hmmm. I spent another 15 minutes or so in the hot room and poured water over myself. Then I went out of the room back to my cubicle.
The barber came up to me and offered me a shave which I initially declined and then I thought 'why not'. It was another experience! So for another 10 lira I sat in the barber's chair while he lathered me up and took out his cutthroat razor. I was pleased to note that he took out a fresh blade. After shaving me he then lit a large wick-looking-thing which he proceeded to light, He flicked my ears with the flaming wick and I could hear (and then smell) the hairs in my ear (that I didn't know I had) burning. After that he trimmed my nose hair and I felt all clean and hairless.
So that was my hammam experience. Would I do it again? Probably not. Did I regret doing it this once? Not for a minute.
