11/27  Pamukkale, Turkey

27 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

11/27 Pamukkale, Turkey


A small mini-bus arrived and toted us off to Pamukkale.  I only knew what I had read in the bible and in travel brochures about Pamukkale.  I understood that it was one of the seven churches Apostle Paul wrote letters to and was coined the “Cotton Castle” of the ancient world.  There was an extremely old hot spring that was believed to have healing power and over time became a center of a pagan cult.  Large limestone steatite created a beautiful arrangement of pools.  There was a gentleman sitting next to us on bus that apparently taught English locally and was very interested in spending time with us.  He stated that he was an authority on the area and would enjoy giving us a tour.  He handed us directions to a friend’s rug shop and we set a time to reunite after settling in our hostel.  The rugs on display were absolutely beautiful.  There was a silk prayer rug that had caught my eye.  I was very interested in purchasing it but unfortunately I didn’t have any extra money.  I was almost running on empty.  I knew someday when I looked back I’d wish I had brought it, par for the course.  The English teacher was full of stories, history and folklore and was very interesting to listen to.

Colonnaded streets lead to where olive trees had rooted on the steps of the amphitheater.  He and Jenni continued talking while standing on the amphitheater’s stage.  I walked up its step and sat down on the last row.  It wasn’t a small amphitheater.  It probably could have accommodated a few thousand and the acoustics were wonderful.  I was surprised that I could clearly hear their conversation as if I was just feet away.  I imaged the dramas performed there where an actor would call out to the crowd that gathered around, “I’ve been foolish casting my dreams and lighting a thousand candles that listen to the prayers and sins of men”.  We were lucky to have stumbled across such an educated tour guide.  In his company we got a free pass to the gymnasium, necropolis and a free cup of hot tea in the local rug shop.  It was getting dark so we headed back to our room, hung around the dining area and played a few games of backgammon.

Jenni had remembered that she had saw orange trees on our bus ride in and wanted to go for a walk to see if we could locate some but we didn’t have any luck.  When we returned about six of us had a conversation over a game of cards.  I think it was my suggestion to sneak into the pools that night.  Like a bunch of school kids not even considering the consequences, but hell we had a few drinks.  We each grabbed a towel and hid baiting suit under our jackets since it was very cold outside.  We all climbed the hill successfully with a little help from the moon.  I was thinking to myself these three women are probably the only blond haired women in the entire country and here there were three.  When we finally reached the pools nobody wanted to risk jumping in.  We’ll I was the only fool.  I jumped in and it was cold as ice.  It must have been a pool fed from the main spring and hadn’t been refilled since tourist season ended.  As if we all had stolen hub caps or something along those lines we high tailed it back and headed straight into bed.

 

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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