Our spa experience started dry and ended wet
Drove inland and south for 5 hours mostly on secondary roads through dusty, rolling landscape. We had been told repeatedly that there are only three, maybe four things to see in Turkey, none of them were on our route. Don't want to say that it was boring, but I was driving AND asking "Are we there yet?" Highlights included sighting giant grapes hanging from a stop light, and finding a superstore-like retail centre.
Giant grapes, just in case you thought we were making them up.
If the signs in the super store had been in English, we could have been in a Walmart in Wisconsin. We fled postehaste, but not without bounty. V managed to score a pair of swell flip flops, certainly not up to the standard of my Prada purchase, but...
On to Pamukkale, a UNESCO heritage site with both natural and cultural designations. The natural is for the splendid, white calcium cliffs which have been formed by hot spring water over millenia. The cultural is for the ruins of Hieropolis, a city dating from the second century. Before we reached our destination, however, we had to run the dreaded Denizli gauntlet, a barrier of human flesh and motorized mafia feared by all but not by us. Our--or at least my--steadfastness in the face of the onslaught was attributable to my V's discovering through research that any tourist venturing into Denzili was fair game for local shills. Like Somali pirates spotting an freighter, young men leapt from the curb while others pursued us astride scooters which looked like they had been abandoned by the ancient Greeks.
Denzili chariot
Thanks to some quick manoevering and a range of suggestive hand motions, we escaped the fate of many (according to Trip Advisor). Arriving at our destination without a reservation--if only the pirates had known--we stopped at a gilded palace on the edge of town. Dazzled by the marble entry and the gleaming smiles, I was ready to sign. V thought it best that we scope out a room first. Needless to say, it turned out to be an excellent idea. The room we were shown was also dazzling, as was the patio which overlooked a pond. However, upon closer inspection, we discovered the pond to be dotted with lumps of, dare I say, a brown-ish hue. We fled, as though pursued by gangs of Superstore associates and Denzilian scooter thugs.
A Denzilian whirling thug
Clean living and a keen eye soon brought us to the Richmond Pamukkale Thermal Hotel, a huge 500 room edifice that was all but empty. We were in luck; their best room was available, and, upon inspection, did indeed deserve that label. What a relief to go from our meager manger of the last week to a large, comfortable room with, as we had dreamed, ensuite and fluffy pillows. And the terrace had a magnificent view of the valleys to the north, a feature which more than proved its value when we were treated to the evensong of the call to prayer from several village mosques at once.
Took a quick dip in the thermal pools and had an interesting conversation with Norwegians whom we took to be German. They returned the slight by thinking us American.
Being at the far end of the building we had no idea that steady caravan of buses had been disgorging Germans and Brits--and, we discovered, Norwegians--apace. By the time we arrived in the dining room, it was chockablock. The buffet was enormous, and even my laser vision was not sharp enough to be able to see to the other end of the room. The food was great and the logistics of service a marvel. That combined with finding a quiet corner where the bus drivers took their vittles, made the meal a delight. Well fed and early to bed.
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