When in Turkey, do as the Turkish people do!
Or at least do what the other tourists are doing.
During our honeymoon a few months ago, the Husband and I found ourselves in a Turkish Bath House. 
Sorry for the poor photo quality. The lighting in the changing rooms wasn’t the best. But honestly, how attractive do we look?! (I kid, I kid.)
And by ‘found ourselves’ I mean that we walked along the deserted streets of Istanbul in the dark and thought we were going to get mugged but actually didn’t get mugged and finally found the Turkish bath we were looking for.
It was totally touristy, which we wanted, so the Husband and I changed into our cloth swimsuits and went inside. Now, normally I would say authentic is better and stay away from tourist traps – as general traveler advice. However, when it comes to stripping down naked in front of strangers and getting a bath, I wanted to be with other people who had no idea what was going on. Plus, in this bath house we all wore little ‘outfits’ and were allowed to hang out with our significant others. Perfect.
We lounged on a hot marble slab in the middle of the room with lots of other American and European couples. We stayed there until we couldn’t tell if we were dripping wet from water or sweat, which was pretty gross but also incredibly relaxing. Just like a sauna but with hot marble and in a bigger room.
To cool ourselves off we dipped cups in cold water fountains and threw it on each other. Sexy, right?!
Now let me just say, I am a cold water wimp. Really, I am.
But this cold water felt amazing.
Then, after 30 minutes or so, a mostly naked man (well, he was basically in a swimsuit, but ‘mostly naked’ sounds much more exotic) came over to us and brought us to a corner of the bigger room where we each got on our own marble slab and bather-person (I have no idea what they’re called but I want a live-in for our place in Chicago so I can always bathe like this).
A sign above the entry told us a Sultan had once bathed in this same spot hundreds of years ago.
Exotic history, that’s what I was experiencing.
Anyway.
As I was staring up at this really-old ceiling where a Sultan had also once looked, I had one of those life moments where I thought, wow…. I can’t believe I’m here. This is awesome!
Then half-naked man covered me in bubbles and rubbed me down. He even washed my hair. He slapped my skin and kind of threw me around on the marble. I shouldn’t even need to tell you it was fantastic and unlike anything I had ever experienced.
It wasn’t necessarily a massage… it was more like a real bath. With lots of bubbles. And he threw cold water on me, but my body was so warm it felt fantastic.
Oh! I just had a thought – that was probably the last time a semi-attractive half-naked man will ever scrub me down. IN MY LIFE. (Until I’m super old and need assistance with this type of thing. Let’s not think about that.)
Because that phase is so over. Marriage will do that to you.
… moment of silence for the end of an era … (Does it count as an era if it only happened once? Let’s go with ‘yes’.)
We then drank apple tea while we dried off. The apple tea I dedicated a blog post to, because I’m that obsessed.
So that was how we ended our honeymoon!
Moral of the story – if you ever go to Istanbul, it’s well worth wandering the streets to find a Turkish bath. Although, I will warn you, usually the bath houses aren’t coed and you’ll be scrubbed down by a lady instead. I wouldn’t want to mislead anyone….
Cheers!
