Istanbul, Turkey
I saw it - hundreds of years old - and of course I wanted to do it. And I did it without thinking. Once inside, I have to say, was just about the most nude experience I have ever had. All the woman – clients, and the staff – were, um, dressed down as it were.
All the woman were instructed to lay on a round marble slab in the middle of the room, and called over when the turkish bath ladies were ready for them.
As I lay there, fretting quietly, three funny British women, also new to the experience, did the same thing out loud. What is going on? said one of them, giggling.
Finally a woman called me over and began sloughing me with a loofah-like object as I lay on a towel. Then buckets of warm water and a soap down, before she washed my hair, and I left, dazed and confused, not sure what I thought. When I look back on it, it seems pleasant enough. I just can't imagine sitting in my apartment though, looking at my diary, wondering when I might be able to fit in another one.
