Visiting Turkish Bath (Hamam) - Istanbul, Turkey - February 2016

The term "turkish bath" has never conjured a specific image for me. Rather, invoking a sensation of luxury and intrigue, foreign culture and ritual of a distant past.

The term took on very tangible, hot and sweaty, manifestation when Clare and I visited Budapest on our honeymoon in the summer of 2014.  We "took the waters" at the historic turkish baths on multiple occasions, forming some of my fondest memories of Hungary. There, it means an ancient complex of mineral baths and saunas of varying temperatures and atmospheres. Massage and other wellness services also being offered, but self guided relaxation being the most prominent activity.

The hot spring and sauna enthusiasts that we are, really took to this new variation of the theme.  We are accustomed to these activities in undeveloped natural solitude, the ancient and elaborate setting in Budapest added a fun new element.

A local north east minnesota masseuse and spa owner told us that his visit to the turkish baths in istanbul many years ago literally changed the course of his life. (In hindsight, i can see many turkish bath influences at his oasis on the north Shore of lake superior) We were sure to heed his advice.

After some Internet research, Clare decided that,  unfortunately, due to her pregnancy that she should refrain from going.

There are many hamams in istanbul, and most of them that are findable online are geared toward tourists. The reviews are all mixed (probably because people are either prude and unadventurous, or they expect a spa treatment more customary to their home country), but one theme was consistent, over priced.

Luckily for me, there was a less advertised place down the street from our apartment in old town. This was a very "local" street, so I thought it should bode well. Also, very minimal online presence.

After inadvertently walking in the seperate women's entrance (sexes are split up), the experience began.

I walked down a flight of stairs into the courtyard of a three story room lined with changing rooms,  obscured by clear plate glass and some stained glass. Kinda like a small hotel lobby.  A large domed ceiling.

There were a couple old men sitting around on benches, one got up and greated me at the door with a laminated piece of paper. The two options were written in english, either a simple self service entrance fee, or the complete package including sauna, scrub and massage.  For 50 lira, i took the full package (the big tourist hamams offer the same for 150).

I was led to one of the rooms and handed a pestamal, a stiff table cloth looking thing, that i was to wrap around my waist. The room literally was all clear windows, so no privacy. My kind of place!

After changing, another man showed me into the hamam, gesturing that the "sauna was back there." He then muttered in broken english to get him when i was ready.

I felt only mildly self concious about not really knowing what to do. I had done enough prior research to know the general routine. Plus, I have uncanny mimicry skills. Experience with saunas and being naked amongst strangers also helps (don't ask).

The marble room had a large marble platform in the middle under the domed ceiling and was lined with marble basins perched on a six inch step. The basins each had a hot and cold tap (really hot, really cold) and no drain (they kinda looked like toilet bowls). There was also a row of semi private marble stalls, each with its own basin. The sauna was in the back corner. There were a few other people in there, each sitting by a basin on the step, dousing themselves with water using a little plastic dish. The taps running full blast, the basins over flowing.

I sat down at a basin and started copying. After i drenched myself, i moved into the sauna. It was a marble room with wooden planks covering the bench, heated by steam pumped under the benches and was very hot.  It wasn't really steamy, though, like a steam room.  It was more like a dry sauna. There was a basin in the room.  I settled in, feeling at ease.

After a few rounds of sauna, i was sitting on the large marble platform cooling off when a man came up to me and asked "massage?"  I said yes, and he led me to one of the stalls and told me to wait. I sat on the step near the floor and continued to douse myself with cold water.

A few minutes later, the man who initially showed me the hamam appeared before me. Large belly, grey hair, balding and draped in a pestamal like mine.  He had a towel over his shoulder, a bar of soap in his hand and a black scrubber pad. I felt vulnerable as i looked up at this half naked figure filling the stall.

After getting the water in the basin just right, he doused me a few more times.  He then got down on one knee and started rubbing me with the rough scrubber mit he had attached to his hand.

He tilted my body forward and scrubbed my back, then my chest and my arms.  He held my arm out and rested my hand against his chest.  The scrubbing motion jostled my arm causing my fingers to course through his chest hair.  It was oddly intimate.

He moved onto my legs, propping my ankle on his hip as he knelt and scrubbed my sauna softened, wet skin.

The pad was rough and he was strong and deliberate. I wouldn't call it relaxing.  He doused me with water, and i could see coils of skin rinse away.

He then led me to a marble bench where i laid on my stomach where he proceeded to lather soap on my back. He simultaneously washed and massaged my back, legs and arms. Again, strong deliberate motions, not particularly enjoyable in the moment. He rubbed the back of my legs so hard, my knee caps painful as they ground into the hard marble.

I turned over and he continued with my chest, stomach and legs. He propped my legs, one at a time,  on his hip and rubbed hard, my knees hyper extending. When he got to my left leg, (knee recently operated on), I kept it bent to protect my knee. He did not like this.  After a few grunts and hand gestures, he conceded that he needed to "go slow".

He then doused me several times, rinsing away all the soap. I was led back to the stall where he washed my hair and beard. Once i was thoroughly rinsed, he left me to relax.

I emerged from the hamam and was wrapped in towels and sat on a bench. A cup of tea was set in front of me. There were a couple of other middle-aged turkish men relaxing.

After 20 minutes I dressed and headed on my way,  squeaky clean and refreshed.

(Unfortunately i don't have any pictures of my experience, but if you follow this link you will get the idea. )

Istanbul, Turkey - Old City - February 2016

Despite the suicide bombing that took place in istanbul a few weeks ago,  targeting German tourists in the popular Sultanahmet square, we decided to maintain our plan to visit.

The easy thing to do would have been to cancel and go somewhere else. Somewhere warm, we even thought. I personally never wanted to change plans. To me, getting caught up in a tragedy, whether in an "exotic" place like Istanbul, on a routine domestic flight, at work or at a party comes down largely to bad luck. These random occurances have very low statistical probability of happening.  It's bad luck. Period.

In light of the zika virus shit storm that has errupted, I'm actually feeling vindication for not making a rash decision and heading somewhere warm. By opting not to change plans and visit (with my pregnant wife) a "safe" place such as mexico, the Caribbean or south east asia, all "plan B" options that we (thankfully!) scuttled, we avoided a quantifiable threat.

We got to Istanbul around midnight. Originally the plan was to arrive mid day, but our turkish airlines flight was rescheduled, probably to consolidate. We decided to book a hotel room for the first two nights because we wanted to avoid the potential arrival hassle that we commonly experience with airbnb. On top of that we were arriving so late. Wandering the streets of a big unknown city in the middle of the night with our luggage didn't seem prudent. So, we booked a hotel and paid the extra to have a driver waiting for us at the airport.  Normally something we wouldn't do, but for 25 euro, it was a reasonable price to pay for peace of mind.

The hotel was modest and inexpensive,  but it included breakfast and the staff was very nice.  There are millions of hotels in Istanbul, competition is on the side of the consumer.

We both slept really hard that night.  Our bed in Greece was very narrow making it difficult to sleep there.  It was nice to be in a full queen.

If you look at an Istanbul map (and you should),you'll see that the old city with many iconic sights (sultanahmet square, ayasofya, blue mosque etc) is separated from the more modern bustling area of taksim and istiklal street by a large inlet called the golden horn.  There are a couple bridges that span it.  You will also notice another long skinny waterway adjacent to the taksim area and that intersects with the golden horn in the sea of marmara. This waterway is the bosphorus straight. It bisects the European and Asian continents and basically connects the black sea with the Mediterranean.  It also disects the city of Istanbul, creating the third well known, but less touristed area,  "the Asian side".

Our first day we dove right in and headed to the Grand Bazaar. A guard with a metal detector wand casually monitored the flow of people in and out. There are many entrances to the market housed in an expansive old building with high arched cielings lined with blue tile. 

The market is a maze of vendors selling everthing from carpets to lamps, to ceramics and leather. Many of the shops sell the same tourist souvenirs, and then there are high end jewelry and antique stores. Little cafes and mosques are scattered throughout. 

We wandered for a while getting acclimated to the constant request for us to stop and shop. "Yes please. Exuse me...." Unfortunately for the shop keepers, they don't realize they are actually repelling us.

The streets surrounding the bazaar are basically an open air extension, although more clothing, housewares, luggage etc are sold.  Lots of counterfeit watches and handbags, shoes and clothes.  People everywhere, busy.

We made our way down to the "spice bazaar". Very similar to the Grand, but smaller and with an emphasis on spices and tea.  Super crowded! Hard to stop and shop if you want to.

The next day we moved to an airbnb about 15 minute walk away. It was on the 4th floor overlooking a busy,  what I'll call local street. Neighborhood markets, restaurants, shops etc catering to the local community, not very touristy. Definitely had a little edge to it. There was a "pide" shop across the street, specializing in wood fired flat bread. We would get our breakfast from them, along with an orange at the market  (where we also bought our water, 10 liters at a time for about a dollar). Local currency is the turkish lira, 3 to a dollar.

The apartment itself was really nice and newly remodeled. It had two bedrooms with queen beds, a kitchen and a large bright teal couch. Gaudy gold crown molding and chandeliers made the place fit for a sultan. The marble tile shower and huge shower head was a treat after the wand and baby bath tub we had in Greece. There was a decent view from the room, but from the roof top terrace it was divine.

Sunsets looking over the mamara sea were unreal. Imagine a painting,  boats moored in the sea, so many large ships in close proximity that it is almost a caricature. Vibrant colors in the sky, domes and spires silhouette the horizon.

The old city is full of must-sees, and we hit a lot of them the next day. First Topkapi palace, including the sultan's harem. Talk about painted tile, lounges and fire places! Not to mention a harem of women and and army of eunuchs at your service!

Next was the ayasofya, an ancient church turned mosque turned museum. The expansive dome with giant caligraphy discs were impressive. Huge circular chandeliers hung from the high dome, loomed right over head, maybe 7 feet off the ground, creating a very cozy vibe inside the otherwise cavernous structure.

Adjacent to the ayasofya is the famed blue mosque with its towering domes and spires. We didn't enter. Supposedly it's more magnificent on the exterior. The call to prayer sounded while we were in the courtyard between the two.  A booming call and response from adjacent spires filled the air and drowned out the sound of thousands of bustling people. Amazing.

This is the area where the suicide bombing occurred and we saw some German flags placed at the spot.

We then visited the historic basilica cistern, an underground man made cavern supported by rows of marble columns, dimly lit,  the sound of water dripping all around and classical music playing in the background. Large fish could be seen swimming in the places with more illumination.

Afterward, we relaxed outside at a small cafe, drank tea and I smoked a hookah.

The next day we shopped carpets. I'm detailing the experience in a separate post found here.

On Tuesday, we went to the Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum. It held an impressive collection of ancient Qurans, old carpets and even a beard hair from the prophet Muhammed. We were hoping for more carpets, fresh off our shopping spree and new found appreciation. I guess an ancient beard hair will have to do.

Next we went to the Istanbul Museum of The History of Science & Technology in Islam. (We bought a five day all access museum pass when we visited Topkapi palace, so we are getting our money worth). Apparently, a lot of scientific achievements from people of Islam have been reappropriated by westerners or western Europeans during the writing of history.  This museum catalogs these achievements, mainly in the form of replicas and videos, and straightens out the history (or spreads a bunch of propaganda).

That night I visited my first turkish bath or "hamam." There are some big tourist hamams, but this was in our neighborhood and not one of them.  It was me and a bunch of middle aged turkish guys. In short, it consists of sitting in a sauna, getting exfoliated with a rough mit by a strong man, then being aggressively bathed/massaged by said man, then doused with copious amounts of water. I am detailing the experience in a separate blog post that can be found here.

The next day we went to the Fatih neighborhood  Wednesday market. An open air market selling primarily scarves, bulk linens, womens and childrens clothes and sweatpants. The market is frequented by local women,  most of them wearing all black and colorful head scarves (apparently the way to personalize an otherwise monochromatic and plain outfit). We stuck out. 

Afterward we visited the Suleymaniye Mosque. You have to leave your shoes at the door and women must cover their heads. Clare conviniently had just purchased a couple scarves, so she fit right in.  It was similar to the ayasofya, very high ornate domes with large circular chandeliers hanging low. Impressive. We even got some free information about islam and a copy of the Quran. Hopefully they let us back into the US.

That night, we met up with Nedim, the carpet guy, and he took us out to dinner and traditional music. It was a late night full of great food,  awesome  (LOUD) music, dancing and cigarette smoke.  I have detailed the experience in the seperate blog about carpet buying.

Our bodies would make us pay for this experience for the next several days.

The following day, we packed up and left our fancy apartment and headed across the Golden Horn to the new city, the pulse of Istanbul's modern identity.

Thessaloniki, Greece - January 2016

You know the saying,  "it's all Greek to me"? To me, it was flash backs to calculus and physics, every span of words looking like a math formula. Greek is a phonetic language, however we weren't sounding anything out.

Our m.o. coming to greece has always been the food first. Because we only had 8 days in the country, we decided to pick one spot and stay put. What appears to be a simple move from place to place, planning with a child's enthusiasm and idealism, teleporting nor the hyperloop have been attained yet (although the latter is making headway).

Even traveling by airplane is not fast. We left the eko garten in Croatia at 7am and didn't walk through the door of our thessaloniki apartment until after 10 pm. A word to the wise, if you are planning a 10 day trip to europe and you're thinking, 'oh, I'll just buy cheap plane tickets and go to these 5 places,  no problem' You are in for a lot of time in airports, taxis, busses, unpacking, packing and dragging your luggage up and down stairs, without much time to do what you came for. Every move, we have decided, costs you 1-2 days.

Anyway, we picked thessaloniki because it is acclaimed for its food, we got good airfare in and out,  and it's just fun to say!

We booked a spacious joint (airbnb), just off the water front and about 15 minute walk to the city center. Our dining recommendations came from our host (a hip 30 something bachelor who was organizing protests with heavy tractors on the side),  a couple of blogs and a list compliled by a cooking school that we would visit later in the week.

The first day we had brunch at a little family run joint tucked in an ally just off of a market. We sat outside under a heat lamp (smoking inside). The owner/chef was a cheery old man who whisked us back to the kitchen to show us his fish.  Clare chose a whole fish caught that morning that they grilled and I chose these little fish tails that he pan fried. Not sure the name of either. A Greek salad and some white wine rounded it out.  Holy olives, feta and onion! And toasted bread with fresh olive oil!

The meal was completed with greek coffee, herbal tea from the mountains and some home made traditional sweets.

We then wandered through one of the large open markets. Fresh fruit, produce, olives, nuts, feta, fish, meat and their vendors all creating a dizzying visual, audio and olfactory mosaic. Resisting the urge to buy a little of everything, we wandered through and got our bearings, promising a future visit.

Thessaloniki waterfront is lined with a wide promenade bustling with people and dotted with sculptures. Large ships coming and going from the busy industrial  port. We would wander this path a couple of times every day.  Always something new to see.

That evening we came back out and ate at a nice-ish place translated to 'pomegranate and honey'. We split a home made ravioli and a mushroom risotto, again with crisp and soft toasted bread. For dessert we got two creations doused in chocolate fudge. One resembled vanilla ice cream, the other small eclairs. (We have grown accustomed to having dessert with every meal of the day, usually eaten while planning our new diet and exercise regime to start immediately upon our return home)

The following morning we had a somewhat "American" breakfast at a place called Estrella. Green smoothies, soft boiled eggs and omelets with toast followed by a cream filled croasant smothered in chocolate and berries.

We then returned to the market on a mission for snacks and breakfast supplies. We left with pomegranates, oranges, kiwis, dried cranberries, walnuts, honey and a tub of yogurt (all to be swirled together for breakfasts). And wrinkley black olives and firm green ones (watch out for pits!) and a big hunk of feta and a round loaf of fresh bread. Did I mention coffee, tea and beer,  too?

So excited by our purchases, we went home and relaxed on the big couches to dig in. I drank beer with olives (montana martini) and spent the late afternoon writing about our time in croatia.

We had dinner at a local place named Local, recommended by our host.  Shrimp and thin sliced pork with peppers. Souffle and creme broulee. After dinner drink at one of the many bars with elaborate outdoor heating setups.

The next day we enjoyed our yogurt with fruit and nuts before heading to the archeological museum. When in greece, go see old marble columns and ancient busts of gods and royalty.

With a roaring appetite we popped into a gyro shop. You know,  meat cooked on a vertical spit served in a pita. In greece,  the standard prep consists of pork from the spit and french fries all doused in ketchup and mustard and rolled tightly in a pita, eaten by hand (yes the fries are in the pita, too).  No yogurt sauce, no greens, no veges.

For lunch dessert we went to a, by all appearances, cigar shop that our host told us about.  Upstars in the lounge, decorated in antiques and library motif, they serve an extensive wine list and gourmet food along with the cigars. Thankfully there was only one other couple in there at the time, and the guy was only smoking intermittently.  He was too busy with his mistress.

The dessert was an encrusted carmel type thing garnished with balsamic, cherry tomatoes, tart berries all in a work of art.  It wasn't decadent, but it was so good and paired nicely with the red wine of unknown (to me) provenance.

We walked it off, out on a pier separating the port with the civilian waterfront.  Looking back at the city on the hill, the full moon rose above the ridge line of white meditterranean houses and the sky was pink and orange from the setting sun.

Dinner was at an "ouzerie", a restaurant specializing in small appetizer plates that pair well with ouzo, a national liquor. We shared spiced feta puree, yellow lentil puree and fried anchovies. I drank tsiporo instead of ouzo by recomendation. Strong astringent clear booze. You know the drill.
This was my first experience with anchovies...when in Rome. .. Well, now I know the connotations are not unfounded.

Next, with our appetites whet for history, we hit the Byzantine museum followed by a church with catacombs below. It's pretty much what you would expect, really really old stuff made from marble, glass, pottery and gold.

In a fit of dejavu we decided to eat gyros again for lunch. Clare's suggestion and i wasn't protesting. This time we went to a place recommended by the cooking school.  Here, the meat was cooked over coals rather than gas. The guys manning the grills were mesmerizing. The preparation was the same as before. So good!

We rounded out the day with dinner at a Creten place. They served us a beautiful green salad,  roasted rabbit and chickpeas with spinach.

The next day, Clare wasn't feeling well (tired, cold like stuff), so i hopped on the bike provided with the apartment and went for a spin.  I rode southeast along the shore until the promenade ended, then heading in to ride the streets and side walks, ending at a marina the next town over.

That night we ate at a "fine dining" place that ended up being a dud. The service was more annoying than attentive and the other dinners were equally annoying (mother daughter duo, on their phones the whole time, in their leather and fur.). Once they started smoking (we were under the impression it was not allowed), we took our bottle of wine and moved outside. The food was so so, but it wasn't very expensive, so not too bumbed.

Next up was our greek cooking class.  We had a private lesson with Despina, a trained chef, and charming gal in her mid forties. The day began with a trip to the market where Despina toured us around and purchased our ingredients for the meal. Wild "mountain" greens, slightly bitter and prickly, to be cooked down for a salad.  Zucchinis, hot green peppers, a squid and prawns for an orzotto and feta for a greek pie.

We returned to the kitchen where we snacked on some pastries and tea, then got started. We chopped and prepped all the produce and seafood. Then into the pan.

The results were a spicy and flavorful calamari and prawn orzotto (like risotto, but with orzo), a cooked mountain green salad, a flaky feta pie, and dessert was cardamom and orange zest semolina concoction.  We washed it all down with greek wine and mountain tea. A fun experience leaving us with some great recipes and some new techniques.

Needless to say, we had a very light dinner.

The following day was sunny and beautiful. Despite Clare battling a minor cold, we rented a second bike.  We retraced the route i took the other day, ending at a little seaside restaurant adjacent to the marina. Much to the surprise and confusion of the waiter, we insisted on sitting outside.  It was pretty warm,  maybe 60, and we feared another smoking party. We dined on salmon and mussles. The mussels were prepared two ways;  cooked in a spicy tomato sauce and the other served in a creamy yogurt sauce.

That evening I holed up at the coffee shop across the street from our place to do some more writing.  Maintaining this blog from my smartphone takes a surprising amount of time without a proper keyboard.

For our last dinner we had an unceremonious take out gyro. We found out that night that our flight the following morning had been rescheduled for 10pm, so we were left with a bonus day.

Having eaten all our yogurt etc, we returned to Estrella for breakfast. I had a loaded bagel and Clare had the pancakes doused in chocolate. Yum!

We then headed up the hill to thessaloniki old town to wander the meandering narrow streets. Much of the city was destroyed in a fire in 1917, including all of the lower part along the water,  then rebuilt in a grid. Furthermore, in the 50s and 60s, owners were incentivized to demolish old buildings in favor of new apartment buildings and shops that would yield a greater return. Not until more recently did the government ban such demolitions.

Up on the hill we stumbled across a monestary that is a unesco inscribed world heritage center. It had a coup of peacocks. So colorful!

We made our way back down to the waterfront where we stopped for a drink and to watch the boats at one of the many cafes that line the coast.

We returned to the cigar shop for our final meal, this time ordering more than just dessert. We had an artful green salad full of fruit, a risotto and an extravagant cheese plate.

At about 6pm we jumped on the city bus headed to the airport. With our luggage, we crammed into the already full bus, so full we couldn't make it to the kiosk to pay. Out the window the sun set over the water, and the sky glowed one last time.