My spontaneous trip to Turkey with Mette in June was one of my better summer decisions. With only 2 days notice, we ended up with one week of ultimate relaxation, including lots of ice cold Turkish beer, card games, tours of ruins, Turkish baths, Police escorts, market days, lots of Mediterranean sun and sea, yummy food, Turkish tea and a countryside BBQ hosted by local Turkish farmers. Of course, when you travel with Mette it also includes lots of good music.
We were lucky to stay in Mette's parent's house located just outside of Kusadasi. It's perfect spot for tranquil, lazy days. Perched on top of a hill, it has beautiful views of the sea, the Greek island Samos, and amazing sunsets. When we weren't lounging at the house, the beach was only a quick walk down the hill for swims in the sea and beers at the beach hut. I loved the peace of this setting, away from the hustle and bustle of Kusadasi, but close enough so it's there when we want it. The house was quiet and every night you could hear people chanting prayers and music from the temple. The distant chanting was very soothing on those warm summer nights.
Effesus
Mette agreed to visit Effesus again for me, so we were full on tourists that day. The ruins are truly impressive. These photos don't do it justice, but take a look at what I was able to capture...
Turkish Baths
I was most enthusiastic about getting a Turkish bath while in Turkey. I've never had one, but I love massages and look to get one as often as humanly possible. Mette, even though she has been to Turkey many times, has never had one either. Perfect, I thought a new experience for both of us. As we talked to some neighbors in the area, we were referred to a specific bath, apparently a local favorite. We agreed and the neighbor arranged everything including our pick up time.
Service in Turkey is like nothing I've seen before. If you call ahead of time to eat in a restaurant, they will pick you up and drop you off at your house. I can't think of anyplace in the world, that I've visited anyway, that does this. It seems to be very common place in Kusadasi.
So, the next day we get picked up by one of the massage therapists and before we leave, the neighbor smiled and tells us he told them to give us special treatment. We thought, "great, we're in for a treat!" At the Hamman, first, we sit in a lounge area and drank some apple tea. We were both suddenly super relaxed. I still question what was in that tea and, more specifically, where I can buy more. Next, we take 10-20 minutes in a dry sauna for more relaxation. Now, with our pores open and our muscles relaxed, it's time for a soapy massage. In a tiled room, Mette and I get a full body scrub, massage, and are covered in soap bubbles while two Turkish men, wearing only towels wrapped around their waists, peel a layer of skin off us. This process is repeated a couple times... rinse, repeat, more soapy bubbles. This experience was actually amazing. I felt as if I've never been cleaner. After, we covered ourselves with a towel and relaxed in the lounge again for more yummy tea. Both of us, a little delirious and tingly from the scrub, wear big smiles and agree that this experience is well worth repeating multiple times while on the trip. This is only about an hour and a half into the bath experience. Next, is the oil massage.
This time we're led into different rooms for our hour and a half oil rub down. I won't go into too much detail, but it was a different type of massage than I'm traditionally used to. After getting so clean in the soapy massage, I ended up leaving the oil massage feeling dirty again. It became apparent that the massage therapist was only really interested in focusing his energy on my inner and upper thighs, and buttocks area. While trying not to be rude or non-appreciative of the Turkish technique, I tried to discourage this focus and shift it to my neck and upper back area. Apparently, I was wrong and all my tension is not in my neck and back, but rather further south, according to the Turk working on me. I became increasingly more uncomfortable during this very naked massage, which didn't help matters because I think the old, hairy Turkish man rubbing me took it as a sign to work harder to make me more comfortable. I can say that I've never been more uncomfortable in a massage. I only felt relief when it was over... an hour and a half later.
As I shifted nervously in the lounge area, with plenty of towels covering me, I carefully sipped more apple tea and waited impatiently for Mette. A moment later, I see Mette enter with eyes wide open, clutching her towel tightly, and walking towards me. I urgently whispered to her, “How was it?” Her whispered response, “It was a little bit of an EXTREME experience for me,” said it all. I felt a little bit better knowing that both of us got such “special attention” but still couldn't wait to get out of there. They asked about driving us home, we immediately said “no, thanks” and paid as quickly as possible. They asked Mette about our plans later in the week and Mette replied with something roughly like with “we have lots of plans, so many plans, we're very busy, busy, busy.” We left with absolutely no plans, except to never go to a Turkish bath again.
The next day, we were still rehashing the horrifying experience we both had at the bath when we ran into some other Danish girls who were staying near us. I asked them what they thought of their Turkish bath experience and they were all smiles as they enthusiastically described how much they loved it. My timid second question was, “Was it more of a sexual experience than you're used to?” I was horrified all over again when they responded that theirs was not sexual AT ALL. They went to the touristy place that obviously doesn't give “special attention” to guests. I think they were in and out in under an hour. Very different than the 3 hour spa time we had. Next time, if there is a next time for Turkish baths, I will be sure to go to the most touristy place I can find to avoid unexpected and unwanted extra service. I really want the soapy scrub part of the massage again, so I might have to give it a try again at a different place. Now, when I meet anyone who's been to Turkey, I love asking about Turkish baths. The reactions are wide ranging. Have you been to a Turkish bath?
Police escorts
Mette and I got a healthy dose of male attention in Turkey, to say the least. We found that the Police were also extremely friendly. They may or may not be effective at catching local thieves, but they seem to find no trouble finding time to chat with us day after day, usually right at sunset. Like clockwork, the sun would set and the police would arrive to say hello. There were usually at least 4 or 5 of them driving around in a van, patrolling the area. They had full uniforms, including berets and semi-automatic weapons. To me, they looked like little boys dressed up in costume. On different occasions the translator of the group would make small talk and offer us rides “for safety.” All excuses to spend time flirting instead of policing. It became a little much when hours past sunset, the police arrived back at the house and tried to invite themselves in for coffee. I was already sleeping when Mette had to refuse 5 armed police men looking for company. I guess it's nice to know the police are in the area, but so much special attention in Turkey is a little overwhelming.
Markets
In the city, we went to a couple market areas, but I didn't buy much. The Turks working at the markets are definite entrepreneurs and therefore are very aggressive. Lots of shouting, “Yes Please,” “Come buy from me,” “I make you special offer, yes please,” “ yes please, are you married?” “yes please, I have something special for you.” We quickly learned the word “Yok” which means No. I was also relieved to have a wedding ring because it helped distract some attention from the men.
Learning Turkish
The language handbook for tourists was hilarious to me. I think the section about what Turkish you should know when in a disco says a lot about the dating culture here. Take a look...
I quickly learned the word married and actually used it with almost every person we spoke with. I've never been anywhere where they ask so often if you're married.
Mediterranean sea
I have a new appreciation for swimming in warm waters after moving to Denmark. I spent as much time as possible swimming in the tranquil waters and even encouraged Mette to do night swims with me. There is nothing better than swimming in the sea under a starry sky. This is one of my favorite things. When the sun is out, I always prefer to go topless when possible as well. Maybe this is because in the United States such things are illegal, but I feel completely free and natural when topless at the beach. When I asked Mette if this was acceptable in Turkey, she reminded me that I was in a muslim country. Then I looked around and realized I was wearing a leopard print string bikini, with electric blue straps, while the woman next to me was sporting a head-to-toe bathing suit, covering hair, arms and legs. At least said body suit was pink, so she had some flare happening. This felt a little strange and as I started to wonder how my leopard print was being received by the other people on the beach, I began to feel a little exposed even with my top on.
Turkish BBQ
One afternoon, Mette and I were invited to a private and authentic Turkish BBQ by the local farmers in the area where Mette's parent's house is. This was truly a highlight of the trip. The farmers were so incredibly generous and nice even with only being able to speak a couple words of English. We first met at their house and nibbled on fresh fruit while the wife ran around picking fresh vegetables for the BBQ. The fruit was some of the freshest and juiciest I've ever had. As Mette said, you can actually taste the sun when you eat it. Amazing. We then jumped into their big tractor and climbed up the hillside. All along the way, the farmers are passing out vegetables and fruit to other locals. Such good people. Once at the top of the hillside, we stopped next to a few of their cows and other farm animals for our picnic spot. There they pulled out fresh fish caught that morning (special for me since I don't eat meat) and started preparing the BBQ. They grilled the fish and vegetables, while we drank cold beers and took in the view. The farmers call me American Tourist, thanks to Mette teasing me with my camera. Over and over again, they would shout... “American Tourist!” and point to things in the area, mostly their bunnies, to photograph.
The meal was one of the best ones I've had in recent memory. Seriously Amazing. It was so good, you didn't even mind that there were loads of flies and cows relieving themselves just feet away from you. I'm very grateful for such an authentic experience and to have made friends with such nice locals.
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