Monday was to be another relaxing day bumbling around Istanbul.  We decided to sleep in and skip breakfast.  This was the first day the jetlag really floored us.  I am sure the 5 am nights didn’t work in our favor, but whatever the reason, we were just wiped.  The great part was – we were tired so we slept.  No clue what day of the week it was.  We only backed into knowing it was Monday because we were flying to Izmir this evening.

We headed out of the hotel around noon, and stopped for sandwiches at a little cafe.  By now we have seen 6 or 7 blacks, so we have stopped counting (many Tunisians it turns out).  Americans – still a shortage.  I think the count is at 2 or 3.  We were also counting the number of dogs we saw – we got to around 7 and stopped counting dogs too.

After the cafe we decide to treat ourselves to a traditional Turkish bath – Cagaloglu Hamami.  CH is this huge marble ornate Turkish bath that was built in the 1700s, and it is on the list of 1000 Places to See Before You Die.  How do I know this?  Because the always timely P.Lo gave me the book as a very appropo last birthday gift (25 if you must know).  I also know it is on the list because everywhere you walk inside the bath, they have posters screaming it.

The idea of a Turkish bath is that you get buck naked, wrap a washcloth-size towel around you pipru/ghaan, and stroll into this huge marble hall.  You sit in a beautiful traditional sauna for about 15 minutes, then an attendant comes and gets you to give you your bath.  The “bath” starts with a massage with you laying down on your back.  My attendant’s name was Turan (and after his performance, if I had to guess last name’s I am going with McHandserson).  Turan starts with a solid rubdown.  I had to stop his hands a few times when he got too comfortable, and he had this kung fu grip (that he used on my chest and arms!) which wasn’t all that comfortable, but it only lasted about 10 minutes.  I stood up (clutching washcloth) red as a tomato.  He then led me to a stall areas where he took a lufa and smacked me up/flipped me/rubbed me down with soap, shampoo, soap again.  I will spare you the details, but lets just leave it at – this man is thorough.  Again, the Turkish men must have very few personal boundaries because he was trying to go places I don’t let people go without dinner and a movie first.  He even tried to scrub my nosering out until I convinced him it was jewelry, not a stain.  He was perplexed.  I think the weirdest part – really it was all pretty weird – was the fact that he was wearing the same washcloth that I was.  I was ready to bounce at the end.  Incidentallly – the girls had female attendants who were also rather girthy, buck nakedy, and quite comfortable with the flesh of another female.  To pass the time and make things less awkward – Nads struck up a conversation with her attendant and found out she is both young and eligible.  She told her about our friend back in the States – Big Nit – and she seemed very interested in seeing where things go.  She wouldn’t let Nads take her picture, but she did give her a little “souvenir” to convince Big Nit of her eligibility (and Nads can vouch for her strong hands).  If Big Nit is out there and interested – email me, and we will send you the pic of the souvenir.

After the wonderfully soothing bath, we moved on to our last site in Istanbul – Suleymaniye Cami (which is a mosque built by Suleiman the Magnificent in 1557.  Unfortunately a large part of the mosque was undergoing renovation, but it inspired me to coin my own “Fareesh the [blank]” name.  I am still working on options, but if anyone has a suggestion, feel free to leave it as a comment.  We wrapped the day up with another jaunt through the bazaar, another failed attempt to get manpris (and convince Nads it was ok), and then headed to the airport for our flight to Izmir.

From Izmir we picked up our rental car and embarked upon our journey that was driving 70 clicks in a stickshift car in a country whose language we couldn’t speak and road signs/rules we didn’t understand.  Turns out – it wasn’t half bad.  The most awkward part of the trip was at the toll booth right outside the airport exit I was still getting used to the soft clutch (NY’er = NO’driver), and as we pull away from the toll booth (flush with Turkish po-po), I rip one off, leaving about 3 inches of rubber and smoke behind me.  The po-po looked to stunned or lazy to get up and follow – from there we just motored.

The hotel we were checking into is called the Ephesus Princess Club hotel, and it is an all-inclusive resort.  It is absolutely gorgeous, and one of the most picturesque hotels I have ever stayed at.  The only one that comes close is the Sharm Hilton. There is too much to say about this hotel, and I just don’t have the passion to blog it all out (but Nads, who found this gem, does -so I am reserving this section for her to make a guest appearance and give this place its due).

We check in too late for dinner, but there is a midnight snack of cream of mushroom soup and toast, and we are ready to hit the hotel club.  We finally got the nerve to drink the Raki - a local Turkish hooch that turns milky when poured over ice.  It tastes just like Ouzo, and after the first sip me and Quag are breathing fire!  Tonight we are dragons…

After our Rakhi-thon and partying at the club till they close at 2am (my ACL is quite better, thank you for asking), we head down to the beach and chill out.  We get into an interesting “conversation” that lasts almost 70 minutes.  The old adage that you shouldn’t discuss politics or religion is actually true (who would’ve thunk?) especially after running on Raki fuel, and being someone who is predisposed to having strong opinions and finds no discomfort in challenging others on theirs.  That is all I will say for now (think of it as a teaser, because the subject of the conversation is definitely getting its own post when I get back stateside – I just don’t have time or energy to get into it now).  The good thing is that we are all adults and no one took it personally – just another heated conversation, and after a good night’s sleep we all awoke friends, and husbands, and wives.

Ahhhh, sleep.