They say you need a catchy headline!
Janice begins her journey to Istanbul and Uzbekistan
Yes. Finally I’m back to international travel. It’s been over 2 1/2 years since Ethiopia! This trip to Istanbul and Uzbekistan was originally planned for the fall of 2020. With more time to study and plan, I’m hoping this slightly revised itinerary may be even better than the original.
This is definitely a different experience than, say, Papua New Guinea or Toraga or Ethiopia. It is heavier on history and the cultures are more ancient than they are remote. Frankly, I’m worrying if this journey will make for good blog fodder, let alone photographs. But -I was truly flattered when so many of you immediately asked, when hearing I was off on an adventure, “will you do the blog?” So with the blessing of Elegant Island Living and Kathi …who is always up for late night editing of a mishmash of photos, emails, texts usually sent from a bar stool, always the best place anywhere in the world to get a WiFi signal…here I am!
Many of you have read previous blogs, so you know my personal history of how they came to be. (FOREVER grateful to David Butler for laughing at the crazy idea of a husband and wife spending 7 weeks driving cross county together and insisting: “Yeah!? Tell us how that goes!” ) Also, these aren’t travelogues about my hotel (unless it’s a yurt), or restaurants (unless it’s around the fire pit of a southern Ethiopian tribe). They’re mostly my experiences, observations of what I see and people I meet.
Lastly, a comment specific to this trip: I have said before that guides provide their perspective; as they are usually licensed by the government, that perspective may also be the government’s perspective. Turkey is run by what is widely considered to be an increasingly authoritarian government. Media, internet are becoming government controlled and freedom of speech is threatened. Uzbekistan, while not part of the Soviet Union since 1991 and with significant improvements made in the past 5 years by its current President, opposition remains “difficult” and discouraged. I obviously do not fully understand the reality and the implications of any of this. However I will respect opinions shared with me if said in some degree of confidence. And I will not tell untruths but I may also be vague if/when it seems best.
So...why in the world am I here anyway? In 2011, I tore out an article from the New York Times about traveling the Silk Road. As “the ‘Stans” increasingly became a popular (lol to other weirdos like me) travel destination, Uzbekistan stood out for having had the most important stops on the old Silk Road, incredibly beautiful architecture, and a culture which, post Soviet era, has worked to reclaim some of its past character. And Istanbul? Well, really the only way to get to Uzbekistan is thru Istanbul! More importantly, the Ottoman Empire, centered in Istanbul and founded by Turks (Turkmenistan) was a mid-point between the eastern and western parts of the Silk Road. And with its increasing control of the sea (Black Sea and Mediterranean), the Ottoman Empire played a later role in the Silk Road’s shift from land to sea.
But you want to know how I got naked. When in Turkey, try a Turkish bath! And I did!! (Photos of the baths below are from Google as I obviously couldn’t bring my cell phone into a Turkish bath!)
There are many Turkish baths in Istanbul, many centuries old. But high-end hotels also offer hamam-like experiences and even some traditional baths offer manicures and bridal party events. Originally the baths served both religious (Islam emphasis on cleanliness) and social purposes; they were a gender-specific place to hang out and drink coffee. They were not about sex. The baths are still used occasionally by Turks; my guide said his wife goes every month, his daughter maybe twice/year, he does not.
I went to Hurrem Sultan Hamam, designed in 1556 by the main Ottoman architect who also designed several of the city’s famous mosques. It has been, of course, restored but supposedly authentically. It was stunning.
Here’s what happened. I entered the women’s entrance to the building (on the opposite side of the building as the men and women’s facilities are supposedly mirror images).
The huge room was hushed and there were maybe 4 women, wrapped in tiny towels, sitting on sofas drinking tea or “sherbet” (more about that in the next blog). After checking in, a nice woman (called Bahar or Spring) took me by the hand--literally, gently and softly holding my hand--and led me up the stairs to a changing room. I was told to remove all my clothes and handed a soft woven silk/cotton towel that was JUST big enough to wrap around me.
Locking the door behind me, I went back downstairs where Bahar again took my hand and led me down a marble hallway into a HUGE domed “room,” for lack of a better word. I was stunned by the beauty. The walls and floors were all Carrara marble. Everything not marble was brilliant white. The domed ceiling was 75 feet up with tiny octagonal windows letting in sunlight that sparkled off the wet marble surfaces. The room was quite warm and humid. It wasn’t steamy like a steam room, but nearly. Around the perimeter of the room were 4 alcoves, one step above the main floor. A couple of the alcoves had women sitting in them. Each alcove had a low marble step on each wall and in the middle of the wall was an urn. All the floors were wet. (Yes, I was scared to death I was going to slip and fall on wet marble--which may be why Bahar kept holding my hand or arm!)
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Bahar, who never spoke through the 90 minutes we were together, sat me on the low step next to an urn, removed my towel and turned on the two faucets, quickly filling the bowl with hot - very hot, and cold - very cold water. She then took one of the 160 carat gold plated bowls and repeatedly poured the mostly very hot water all over me, head to toe. Over and over. I then realized why all the floors were wet; the water just seemed to run everywhere. Bahar then wordlessly handed me the bowl and walked off. I finally figured out I was supposed to sit there and sweat…although I did cheat by dipping the bowl under the cold faucet a couple times!
After I don’t know how long, Bahar returned. She got down on her knees (on the marble!) and began to scrub me front and back with a loofah type mitt. I almost laughed as she scrubbed my leg because the motion of her arm and her kneeling reminded me of a woman scrubbing a floor. And I suspect she is gentler scrubbing her floors than she was on me! Ouch!
Finally, she stood me up, used that pretty bowl to dump water on me and rinsed me off. Then, holding my hand, she led me to the middle of the domed room where a towel was laid out on this enormous tiled octagon. Instructed to lay face down, I nearly melted into what was clearly warm heated marble. I read later it’s called a belly stone.
Then came the bubbles! She dipped a giant towel thing that was like a pillowcase into a big jug. She swung the “pillowcase” through the air a couple times until it filled with air…and then squeezed it out on me. There were the most incredible piles of warm bubbles! Beyond description! This was repeated several times as she washed me off. I was grateful to be laying on the towel because I felt like if I didn't have that, with all her rubbing and shoving, my soapy self may have slid right off the wet marble onto the floor!
Finished, she led me--limp noodle that I now was--into a slightly cooler room where she dried me off. Wrapped up in a towel, I was again led out to the main room, seated, and served a glass of pomegranate and herb “sherbet” they say “to aid healing and balance blood sugar." When I guess Bahar felt I was back to "normal," she helped me back to my changing room.
And THAT was my Turkish bath experience. Of the various salt scrubs, steam rooms, massages, etc. I’ve had, this was certainly the most exotic, most pampering. And I was cleaner than I’ve ever been!
So just a bit on Istanbul.
First, it is incredibly crowded. It makes the streets of New York City seem like St. Simons Island. The traffic is impossible. And the sidewalks are jammed. There are 16 million people in this city vs. 9 million in NYC. I’m no slouch with city crowds, but this was pretty intense.
Istanbul sits on two continents: the “old” western side is in Europe and the eastern side, Asia. Dividing the two is the Bosporus Strait. It is vital to international marine traffic as it links the Black Sea (where Odessa, Ukraine is) to the Dardanelles and the Mediterranean. It supposedly has 3 to 4 times the traffic as the Suez and Panama Canals. It is similar, interestingly, to St. Simons Sound because it is so narrow, at times only a half mile across! Supposedly there are also crazy currents.
As a result, ships are controlled so that there are times designated for northbound traffic and others for southbound. Concerning to Istanbul (who does not control the strait; it is controlled by the 1936 Montreaux Convention) is the risk of an accident involving tankers of oil and dangerous chemicals and the threat that would pose. Now that sounds familiar, doesn't it? I shared our Golden Ray story with a couple people and you could see their eyes grow wide, understanding the risk and threat, environmentally and financially.
They have begun to explore the option of literally digging another parallel canal further outside the city. I was stunned one afternoon, crossing the Bosporus, to look out and see easily a dozen ships waiting to enter. And there were surely more beyond the haze.
Of course, Istanbul is famous for its Spice Bazaar and Grand Bazaar. They are enormous and fascinating, filled with tiny shops selling everything from jewelry to water pipes.
Surrounding these ancient bazaars are tiny winding stone streets filled with more shops, too narrow for trucks or cars. For two hundred years, Istanbul has had a tradition of porters, or Hamals, who move merchandise throughout the neighborhoods on their backs. Today, many use carts, but still push hundreds of pounds a day. They work in squads; each squad with its own territory. It is clearly not a well paying or desirable job and today is often done by Kurds.
These were my first peeks at this ancient city, a city with both a strong Christian and Moslem heritage. Next blog, a bit more about Istanbul history, its people, and its amazing food scene before I head off to Uzbekistan!
