The marble slab in the centre of the room at the Turkish Hamam is like a sacrificial altar. Me, the ceremonial lamb, splayed across one edge ready to be slaughtered with an exfoliating mitt and bubbles at the hands of a burly Turkish woman. 

I had heard about this but never actually experienced it as the last time I was here I was too afraid. More than ten years later… and ten years braver, it was one experience that I was looking forward to (sort of)… and as a lovely bonus, C&J had offered it to me as a birthday present. 

But despite being a willing participant, I awaited my destiny at the Hamam, with a little trepidation and nervous laughter. This is nothing like a spa at home… if that’s what you’re thinking. There are no lounge chairs or soft rainforest music playing. No spa pools or soaking in the water of natural springs. There are no private rooms- Hamams are communal… so I am not alone lying virtually naked on the hard marble alter… with not too much idea of what’s going on. 

It is a very traditional hamam… completely authentic… not glamorous and not an influencer in sight.  No one speaks a word of English, so I really didn’t have a clue what to do… but after stripping off and wrapping myself in a Turkish towell I worked out, by watching another more experienced woman, I was supposed to throw a lot of water on myself before being grunted at to lie face down on the hard but warm marble slab.

My ‘attendant’ is a largish, middle-aged Turkish woman… very wet and half naked. 

My fate is in her hands. The onslaught begins when the scrubbing mitt is swiped across my back in long sweeping motions, and I can’t decide if it feels like a wire brush or very course sand paper. I’m wearing underwear but I may as well not be as the woman is an experienced wedgie giver… and there is no room for inhibitions here. 

A body tap signals me to roll over, where the process begins again, almost EVERYWHERE. I lie there looking at the ceiling thinking, this does not look like the pretty pictures I have seen on social media with pretty mosaic designs. No- this ceiling is plain white and well covered with mould (although everything else seems clean enough 🤷🏼‍♀️). Eventually she pulls me up into a sitting position and asks, “Face?” I almost laugh and quickly say no thank-you as the idea of having my face exfoliated with sandpaper like the rest of my body, is somehow not appealing. She unexpectedly douses me with a big bucket of cold water over my head and actions me to go and have a shower to wash the top few layers of my skin off which is now in dark rolls all over me. Any trace of a suntan that I may have acquired in my last two weeks in the sun vanish down the drain. 

The next round is bubbles, and is strangely delicious and very soothing as my entire, now red raw body is doused with foamy goodness. The last time I remember being this soapy was when my kids put a full bottle of bubble bath into my mums spa and flooded not just her bathroom with bubbles but her bedroom. 

I eventually leave after a rather oily massage, feeling relaxed and perhaps cleaner than I’ve ever been in my life. It’s completely impossible to find full clarity in this experience, no matter how much I try to explain it and I may be left with some profound mental images I will never forget. But I loved it… as a rejuvenating wellness experience and can’t stop laughing when I think about it. 

So we are in Bodrum now… actual Bodrum city (ancient Halicarnassus), as opposed to somewhere on the Bodrum peninsula where we have been on and off for the last few weeks. 

Bodrum. A town that smells of the sun, sea, gastronomy and history. One of the most glamorous of all Turkey’s seaside getaways, this white washed town beneath a castle is a lively mix of cool bars, restaurants and shops juxtaposed with quaint, quiet streets and pretty cafes.

We wandered the quiet white-plastered backstreets overhung with bougainvillea…

… past its glittering marina…

… and into the narrow, winding, cobbled alleyways of Bodrum’s Old Town… a maze of souvenir shops, flower-filled cafes, boutiques and fish restaurants… soaking up the local atmosphere and a respite from the sun, with narrow alleyways providing shade in the heat of the day.

We are staying at the amazing and quirky Ha La- a charming family run bohemian style place with an amazing tranquil garden. A centuries old Ottoman stone building surrounded by lush lemon trees and bougainvillea, encircled with high stone walls… An oasis which does not let the chaos in and harbors the tranquility of history and nature… all while being only minutes from the action. I love it from first sight (despite having to shower while literally sitting on the toilet as the bathroom is so tiny) and we regularly spend time relaxing in the peaceful garden… sitting under the lemon trees among lazy cats strolling around… eating breakfast or drinking wine. 

The ancient ruins of the Castle of St Peter, perched on a natural peninsula in the bay, dominates Bodrum and its well-preserved walls, towers, and courtyards stand as silent witnesses to centuries gone by. Apparently built in the 15th century by crusader knights from England, France, Italy and Germany, who each constructed one of its four towers.

We walked around the remains and imagined what the castle was like originally and marvelled again at how structures like this were built all those years ago… and at the stunning views from all sides. 

We hike up to the white windmills on the hilltops, standing in blissful silence above the harbour. Built in the 18th century… the derelict structures look every year of their age.

But the views of the water and harbour are pretty spectacular once again.

Stopped briefly at the historical site of Bodrum Amphitheatre, which dates from the Hellenistic periods and imagined a time when gladiators would battle until one of their opponents was brutally killed… more recently used for theatre and music concerts. Much more civilized!

We hung out at Yula bar, one of the coolest bars in Bodrum with its stone walls, rustic woodwork and arty decor… right on the beach with an unobstructed view of the medieval castle and the stunning clear waters of the sea… and immersed ourselves in the enchanting world of the Aegean, one cocktail at a time, as the sun set.

What a vibe! We couldn’t get enough… so returned again and again. On my birthday we sat on deck chairs with our feet in the water and sunned ourselves for the last time, swimming in the cool azure waters and soaked in the beauty around us. 

On our last day, we had a unique experience visiting the village of Stratonikeia which is one of the significant archaeological sites in Asia Minor.

Now I have to say that ruins are generally not really my thing… or at least not for more than about half an hour but this place has been inhabited continuously from the Late Bronze Age (1500 BC) to the present day with structures and architectural marvels from the Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman, and Turkish eras (including temples, public buildings, a huge gymnasium and private residences).

It really was an extraordinary experience… like stepping back in time… exploring the streets of the old village amongst crumbling Ottoman houses…

… and coming across the ruins of the ancient city. An ancient city within a living village! And excavations are still in process… the women excavating literally found a little round coin looking thing while we were watching (we weren’t allowed to take pictures as it hadn’t been documented yet). 

And this is all set against a backdrop of stunning natural beauty with the surrounding landscape of rolling hills, lush vegetation, and clear skies… with huge wild pomegranates hanging from the trees all around us.

But the actual reason we were here was with the beautiful and talented Maya, who combined with two other artists, is planning an exhibition here next year, complete with opera… which all sounds incredible… if only it weren’t so far away. 

We were welcomed into one of the other artists home (he lives here amongst the ruins) in the most gorgeous, truly rustic and authentic stone home.

Such a picturesque setting… with a beautiful garden… providing a serene and peaceful environment, perfect for reflecting on the history that surrounded us.

And perfect to enjoy the offered hospitality with delicious traditional Turkish dishes of fresh vegetables from the garden, olive oil, cheese, jams and a variety of herbs and spices. Even the fresh pomegranate juice was flavoured with basil. We finished with a meditation where we each held a small piece of history in our hands and made a wish (Johnny stay well 💗). 

I am a little anxious as I say goodbye to the boys and continue on solo for the rest of my adventure. Still 2 weeks to go in new and exciting destinations. And I think to myself… what a wonderful world