Ayla and I had arranged to meet in Bodrum this afternoon, but she phoned early in the morning to say that she’d been called in to work and couldn’t make our appointment. I decided to go into Bodrum anyway and go to the free hamam session that I’d been given by Director Tours as a thank you for purchasing the Ephesus/Pamukkale trip last weekend. I grabbed the dolmus and arrived downtown at around 11 or so and made my way down to the harbour. I had a ringside seat at the café nearest the castle and drank a cappuccino while people-watching. It was really fascinating to see the variety of people who wander by; I guess because Bodrum is a fashionable place at the moment, visitors are wearing the most varied getups. Last time I had seen a couple straight out of Las Vegas in the Wayne Newton era (is he still alive?), she with huge hair, huge breasts, huge high heels and mega makeup, he with white slacks, white belt, and bad 70s hair a la the Poppy Family (if anyone out there remembers them …).This time brought a parade of women of a certain age wearing white short shorts (white short shorts!!), tank tops, and weird little high heeled slippers – really atrocious fashion sense. News flash – women over a certain age should never, ever wear tight white short shorts, or tight white anything, for that matter. Actually, IMHO neither women nor men should wear tight white short shorts at any age … I just had a vision of that old man on the beach in Lipe Island, Thailand in a white thong … eye burn! Single women with looks of desperation, Turkish and other men on the prowl, kids screaming for ice cream, cats begging for food … just another day at the fair.
I entered the castle, having asked if the underwater museum was open and received a reply of “yes”. However, the cashier neglected to inform me, and I missed the sign saying so, that the rooms were not open until 2 – damn. The weather was not as good as the last time I was in Bodrum – overcast with the odd little spit of rain so I didn’t want to wait around for 2 hours to see sunken ships, although I would have enjoyed seeing the glass wreck, I think. I did get to see a room of small display cases of glassware from Roman wrecks around the peninsula but I was annoyed with myself for not checking the opening times more carefully. After exiting the castle, I wandered through some of the pedestrian shopping streets, and then some small back streets with beautiful flowers and tiny lanes on my way to the Director Tour office for the hamam.
I had been told by a few people that the hamam in Bodrum was a very good one, and that’s where I’d assumed I was going – wrong. I got picked up by the transfer man and taken to the hamam in Gumbet, sort of a suburb of Bodrum further along the coast in the direction of Gumusluk. After being dropped off there, I was greeted on entry by the stares of the male employees hanging around the vestibule. The hamam’s manager, in describing the treatment, immediately tried to get me to purchase more than what was included with my package, saying things like “The soap sud massage is not a real massage … you want aromatherapy” (to the tune of 25 euro and up) … I did not want aromatherapy to the tune of 25 euro and up and told him that I only wanted what was included in my package and he immediately had no more interest in me. We were off to a bad start.
After changing in the small change room and leaving my things in a locker, I was waved into the hamam steam room with marble slab and left there for about 15 minutes to relax in the heat. Then a man came in, and without much in the way of communication, gave me the worst peeling I’ve had in any of the hamams I’ve been to. It lasted all of about 4 minutes. Then, another man performed the soap sud massage – it was ok but too short and he kept talking and trying to hit on me as he was working. I was not at all happy and very glad that I had not paid for it, because the session was terrible. At least, I got a free ride back to the bus station in Bodrum to grab my dolmus home.
Once back at the ranch, I hopped on my bike, intending to retrieve my korek from the beach. When I got down there, though, I saw immediately that someone else had removed them for me – they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps someone took a fancy to them and carried them off home – I hope so, rather that than have them end up in the garbage or burned. I stopped for a beer and a mixed toast at the Club Gumusluk restaurant and bar on the beach and shared my sausage and cheese sandwich with a pregnant cat who had a tiny triangular face and a largish belly. I am a sucker for Turkish cats. On the way back, I acquired more korek stalks from the hillside to replace those lost and some stalks of Queen Anne’s lace with which I will compose a still life assemblage later.
Over the past few days I have painted ten thin banners of translucent tracing paper in different colours to more or less match my painted korek stalks. I was thinking about hanging them up in a tetractys configuration behind an installation of korek, and then later making them into lamp shades to put around my tea light candles. I installed them in the studio on three pieces of string stretched between two easels, on either side of a still life of Queen Anne’s lace, two hands, a silver tea pot, korek heads and candles on the wooden table. On the floor in front of the table I placed the final two banners on either side of a pedestal with a still life of red and pink sardunya and jasmine flowers; on these banners I placed 6 glasses with silver korek heads resting in water and 6 small candles. I enjoyed the shadows cast by the plants on the wall and ceiling of the studio; these shadows moved and changed as the candles flickered and the water in the glasses trembled.
See pictures here.