The Instanbul scavenge of "Enjoy a traditional public Hammam - not at a hotel" was best at the end of the day, right after jostling through the Covered Bazaar.
Armed with walking directions from the Blue Mosque, on the recommendation of our waiter from lunch, we walked the brief distance to Cagaloglu Hammam. Thinking we were off the beaten path, we were surprised to see displayed a reprint of the cover of Patricia Schultz's book, "1,000 Places to See Before You Die". And it was! Cagaloglu is over 300 years old. Prior patrons purportedly include Franz Liszt, Florence Nightingale and Cameron Diaz.
Alex and I agreed to meet in one hour and fifteen minutes at the fish restaurant around the corner. I said goodbye and went into the Ladies' entrance. I passed through a curtain of beads into a square chamber. A woman at a wooden desk on the right greeted me with a warm smile and good English. She produced a price list of about 4 different pricing options. I chose the Oriental something-or-other because it would take about one hour and included bath and massage as well as use of the changing room and towel rental. It cost 110 Turkish Lire or 55 Euros - neither of which I had enough of. I asked for the closest ATM, got the money and returned in a few moments. I paid for my chosen package and then she asked if I would like to buy my own scrub cloth for them to use for the exfoliating scrub. I interpreted that to mean, "Would you like the used cloth that has somebody else's dead skin, bacteria and other diseases in it, or would you like a new one?". I bought the new one. Ten more lire. She showed me to my "cabin" and handed me a key on a heavy brass pendant. The room was ringed with closet-like rooms, or cabins. Each cabin has hooks to hang clothes, a mirror, small counter below the mirror, a cot/bed, and a hairdryer affixed to the wall. They are trimmed in wood, fitted with frosted glass in the doors below neck level and clear glass above neck level. (Note on neck level: Not for me. The frosty glass ended just above my waist. No privacy for me. And I dried my hair at the end by glancing into the mirror at my elbows moving around). As instructed, I took everything off, hung it in my cabin, tucked my pocketbook (with my credit cards, ATM card, money, blackberry, entire life if it got stolen...) Behind the door and wrapped myself in the tablecoth-looking blue plaid fabric (not a towel), put on the pink plastic clogs and followed her to the intermediate room. The walls and floor were covered with white marble veined in grey. That led to the "hararet", the hot room, which is a quite warm, a bit steamy, and is filled withthe sound of running water. It is a grand, circular room with a high-domed ceiling. All marble, it has a large octagonal raised slab platform in the center where eight women are massaged at a time. The floors are slick with water and soap bubbles. My escort took my hand and led me all the way across the floor to the far side, where the walls were lined with cisterns. Lukewarm water was running constantly, spilling over onto the floor and into the channels which drain it away. She took away my tablecloth and cabin key and motioned to me to sit on the floor. She used a metal pan to scoop water and splash it over me repeatedly. She motioned to me to do that and signaled 5 miutes for her (break time?). I sat and watched. About 25 of us women, all white and naked were scattered about the room, in various stages of the process. The ones who were being bathed and massaged were lying on the outer edge of the slab in the room's center. The masseuses/attendants sit or kneel to do their work. When it was my turn she called to me "Lady", she smiled, and offered me a hand so I don't slip on the floor. She led me to the slab, laid me down with a small flat leather (plastic?) pillow under my head. First she washed me with water from neck down, all over and she had me turn over and do it again. Round two was the exfoliation scrub with my own personal scrubber. She grimaced and showed me the dirt rolls that peeled off of me. I sheepishly said "India" (when we compared notes later, Alex said he had the same thing happen to hin, too). Then she massaged again. Third treatment was the string mop. Well, it looked like a mop head with strings about 2 feet long, except they were made of something spongy. She used a deep bucket of very sudsy water, sloshed it over me and swung the mop around like a car wash. Massage the third and final time. The massages were more like a little shoulder rub and quick foot rub. The main event was the bathing. When it was all finished, she took my hand and placed me at the cistern again. She sat me down and shampooed my hair. Then, she motioned for me to rinse my body and that I am finished. I could have sat and relaxed some more in the steamy room, but I knew Alex would be waiting. I was given a gift - fresh underpants! I dried my hair, put on my gift and dressed to meet Alex around the corner for a beer and comparing stories at the fish restaurant.