This recent trip to Istanbul finally fulfill my long time 'dream' of visiting a proper traditional hamam. As previous blog mentioned, I've discovered, learned and appreciated this time round in this charming city so much more, hence visiting a hamam was one of the 'got to dos' for me.
I've always heard interesting stories of hamam visits. The funny ones, good and the bad ones, and the sleazy ones but regardless I was determined. Took the chance of D having to attend a conference call in the hotel (D wasn't interested. I wonder why? :-), had my recommendations from the Concierge, my map, and off I went. It didn't take me long to find the place, as this hamam happened to be right in the city centre and a well historic and popular one in Istanbul. I can feel the whole scene of 'Chinky face, don't speck Turkish, let's charge him loads and give him poor service' appearing in my head. With all these thick moustache, massively fat hairy men laughing all over me. But I refused to let all these defeat me. Guarded with my Lonely Planet that explains all the 'to dos' when in a hamam, I took a deep breath and walked in.
Tarihi Galastasaray Hamami (Opened since 1824) is one of the city's best, with lots of Moorish marble design all over the internal wall of the building. You walked into this beautiful court yard with a fountain right in the middle. The whole place echos of water droplets and traditional zen like sounding Turkish music. It was still early when I arrived so it was really quiet. When you look up the court yard, all you can see was a massive stair well with three floors of small cubicles skirting around it.
Then a rather skinny attendant came over, showed me a menu of services in Japanese and English (Here we go! I can still hear the laughter in my head). He tried to explain to me each one means and consist of. And I've decided to go for the whole works. The use of the hamam, scrub down, massage and soap bath. All paid for and I couldn't wait!
I was then shown to a dressing cubicle. Got changed to the given bath wrap (a thin sarong) and slipped into the clickety wooden clogs, which was 3 sizes bigger (wasn't even trying to attempt to ask for the right size for me). An attendant then leads me through the cool room, and told me to wait. Sat there and just when I was feeling a bit chilly with only my skimpy sarong, the thick door pushes opened and here walked in this short big bellied and hairy body Turk, old enough to be my great uncle pointed at me to the other room (At that very moment, my hamam fantasy bubble burst into the thin air!) He pushes the thick wooden door and here we walked into the hot room where you sit and sweat for a while. This apparently helps you relax and loosen up your body, mind and skin. This room is in a massive circular shape with marble basin dotted around with cold and hot water taps. Separate washing areas were also found in four corners of the room. Right in the centre is this huge square raised platform atop the heating source. My Harry (I decided to name him that) then laid a thin sarong over the platform, made a low sound and pointed me to lie down (I wasn't even trying to ask him why). He left the room and I lied there for almost twenty minutes. Looking up, it was a huge dome shape like ceiling with windows looking through to the sky. Droplets of condensation was dropping from the top to the marble platform, soothing Turkish music was echoing in the background, I was literally being steamed like a fish on the marble top, sweating my hearts out, falling asleep. Enjoying the feeling. Feeling liked I was one of the princes having my daily pampering session
Then I heard foot steps. The clogs were coming closer. I know Harry is coming to get me! He walked in, pointed at one of the marble sink and got me to go over. He mumbled something, turned on the water taps and started douses me with warm water, lathers me with a soapy sudsy swab. I was literally shampooed all over. My hair, my face, body and legs. More douses of warm water followed. Next I was scrubbed with a coarse cloth mitten loosening dirt that I've never thought I would have and seen ever before. Dark dirt and dead skin was peeling off from me from his rather aggressive scrubbing. Its was painful and pleasurable at the same time (I was only hoping then for a hunky Turkish guy doing that to me). Wasn't trying hard to contain my laughter while my mind was slipping off to you gals with me, giggling our heads off.
When the scrubbing ended, he pointed me back to the marble platform, instructed me to lie facing down (By then Harry and I have already established the common way of sign language in a hamam). He started soaping me up again, but this time working on massaging my legs, arms, hands and back. I felt like a steamed skinned white chicken on a chopping board. He is now hurting me on parts of my body that I never thought of pressing and adding pressure on. Every muscle contours of my body, Harry's hands were over them, rubbing and 'soothing' them with his thick hands and fingers. Turning my legs and arms into weird positions and there I lied helplessly at the mercy of his expertise.
And I was then instructed to turn around (Hmm ;-), he started working on my front concentrating on my chest and stomach (Where is my dreamed hunky Turkish guy?!). At one point I thought my intestines were gonna tangled with the way he was rubbing my stomach like a baklava or bread dough.
Before you knew it, it was finally over. The massage I meant! I was ushered back to the wash basin, sat me down and Harry started lathering up this huge pot of soapy water with this long stringy cloth mitten. I never thought you can create so much bubble by doing that. With one swift action using his arms and with the help of the mitten, he scooped up a huge chunk of the bubble and started bubble bath me down again. I felt and looked like a giant snow man in bubbles!
With a few more douses of warm water, I was done! Cleaned should I say!
Was then ushered back to the cool room, another attendant came in with dry towels and even tower dry me in the most unusual and efficient way. Wrapped me around with the towel, including my head, walked me out to the court yard once again, sat me down by the fountain and offered me a small glass of hot Turkish tea.
Sitting there relaxing and reminiscing of the whole experience. Looking up the big stair well and all the cubicles around, imagining all the chatting, chest playing, men catching up with each other of their daily lives, transporting me back to the old times when hamam was just a way of life. With now the city growing and modernising, more and more hamams are shutting down due to low usage. Only the older generations are using them and they have to rely greatly on the tourism trade now a days.
I've always heard interesting stories of hamam visits. The funny ones, good and the bad ones, and the sleazy ones but regardless I was determined. Took the chance of D having to attend a conference call in the hotel (D wasn't interested. I wonder why? :-), had my recommendations from the Concierge, my map, and off I went. It didn't take me long to find the place, as this hamam happened to be right in the city centre and a well historic and popular one in Istanbul. I can feel the whole scene of 'Chinky face, don't speck Turkish, let's charge him loads and give him poor service' appearing in my head. With all these thick moustache, massively fat hairy men laughing all over me. But I refused to let all these defeat me. Guarded with my Lonely Planet that explains all the 'to dos' when in a hamam, I took a deep breath and walked in.
Tarihi Galastasaray Hamami (Opened since 1824) is one of the city's best, with lots of Moorish marble design all over the internal wall of the building. You walked into this beautiful court yard with a fountain right in the middle. The whole place echos of water droplets and traditional zen like sounding Turkish music. It was still early when I arrived so it was really quiet. When you look up the court yard, all you can see was a massive stair well with three floors of small cubicles skirting around it.
Then a rather skinny attendant came over, showed me a menu of services in Japanese and English (Here we go! I can still hear the laughter in my head). He tried to explain to me each one means and consist of. And I've decided to go for the whole works. The use of the hamam, scrub down, massage and soap bath. All paid for and I couldn't wait!
I was then shown to a dressing cubicle. Got changed to the given bath wrap (a thin sarong) and slipped into the clickety wooden clogs, which was 3 sizes bigger (wasn't even trying to attempt to ask for the right size for me). An attendant then leads me through the cool room, and told me to wait. Sat there and just when I was feeling a bit chilly with only my skimpy sarong, the thick door pushes opened and here walked in this short big bellied and hairy body Turk, old enough to be my great uncle pointed at me to the other room (At that very moment, my hamam fantasy bubble burst into the thin air!) He pushes the thick wooden door and here we walked into the hot room where you sit and sweat for a while. This apparently helps you relax and loosen up your body, mind and skin. This room is in a massive circular shape with marble basin dotted around with cold and hot water taps. Separate washing areas were also found in four corners of the room. Right in the centre is this huge square raised platform atop the heating source. My Harry (I decided to name him that) then laid a thin sarong over the platform, made a low sound and pointed me to lie down (I wasn't even trying to ask him why). He left the room and I lied there for almost twenty minutes. Looking up, it was a huge dome shape like ceiling with windows looking through to the sky. Droplets of condensation was dropping from the top to the marble platform, soothing Turkish music was echoing in the background, I was literally being steamed like a fish on the marble top, sweating my hearts out, falling asleep. Enjoying the feeling. Feeling liked I was one of the princes having my daily pampering session
Then I heard foot steps. The clogs were coming closer. I know Harry is coming to get me! He walked in, pointed at one of the marble sink and got me to go over. He mumbled something, turned on the water taps and started douses me with warm water, lathers me with a soapy sudsy swab. I was literally shampooed all over. My hair, my face, body and legs. More douses of warm water followed. Next I was scrubbed with a coarse cloth mitten loosening dirt that I've never thought I would have and seen ever before. Dark dirt and dead skin was peeling off from me from his rather aggressive scrubbing. Its was painful and pleasurable at the same time (I was only hoping then for a hunky Turkish guy doing that to me). Wasn't trying hard to contain my laughter while my mind was slipping off to you gals with me, giggling our heads off.
When the scrubbing ended, he pointed me back to the marble platform, instructed me to lie facing down (By then Harry and I have already established the common way of sign language in a hamam). He started soaping me up again, but this time working on massaging my legs, arms, hands and back. I felt like a steamed skinned white chicken on a chopping board. He is now hurting me on parts of my body that I never thought of pressing and adding pressure on. Every muscle contours of my body, Harry's hands were over them, rubbing and 'soothing' them with his thick hands and fingers. Turning my legs and arms into weird positions and there I lied helplessly at the mercy of his expertise.
And I was then instructed to turn around (Hmm ;-), he started working on my front concentrating on my chest and stomach (Where is my dreamed hunky Turkish guy?!). At one point I thought my intestines were gonna tangled with the way he was rubbing my stomach like a baklava or bread dough.
Before you knew it, it was finally over. The massage I meant! I was ushered back to the wash basin, sat me down and Harry started lathering up this huge pot of soapy water with this long stringy cloth mitten. I never thought you can create so much bubble by doing that. With one swift action using his arms and with the help of the mitten, he scooped up a huge chunk of the bubble and started bubble bath me down again. I felt and looked like a giant snow man in bubbles!
With a few more douses of warm water, I was done! Cleaned should I say!
Was then ushered back to the cool room, another attendant came in with dry towels and even tower dry me in the most unusual and efficient way. Wrapped me around with the towel, including my head, walked me out to the court yard once again, sat me down by the fountain and offered me a small glass of hot Turkish tea.
Sitting there relaxing and reminiscing of the whole experience. Looking up the big stair well and all the cubicles around, imagining all the chatting, chest playing, men catching up with each other of their daily lives, transporting me back to the old times when hamam was just a way of life. With now the city growing and modernising, more and more hamams are shutting down due to low usage. Only the older generations are using them and they have to rely greatly on the tourism trade now a days.
I can only wish that the hamam which has been going on for centuries will persevere and open for a lot more centuries to come! The ancient form of Spa. What a treat!
1 comment:
We went to a Hamman too in Marrakesh on our last day and had the same sweating, scrubbing, showering routine, followed by a body massage and a rose petal bath!
When u go to Marrakesh, this is where you need to go:
www.lesbainsdemarrakech.com
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