adventure, Middle East, short breaks, Türkiye

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part three)

After we checked in at Hilton Istanbul Maslak, a porter helped us with our bags and showed us to room 1711. There was a bank of four elevators in the hotel lobby, and to call one, you must punch your floor number on a large keypad. But the keypad is only there on the lobby floor. All of the other floors just have the usual up and down buttons. I’m not sure why the fancy keypad was necessary. Maybe it was an attempt to make the hotel look more upscale.

Room 1711

The porter punched 17 on the keypad for us, and then showed us that we had to use our keycards to get the elevator to work. He explained the hotel’s services, which included a spa, a full scale restaurant, a lobby bar, 24 room service, and even a high end jewelry store. Bill shook his hand and palmed him a tip, and then we took a look at our room…

One thing this hotel room had, that none of the others I’ve ever stayed in have had, was a toilet that had a little spigot on the back of it. When you flush the toilet, the spigot squirts out cold water in a bidet fashion. The toilet also had a tap next to it that could turn on the spigot without flushing, causing it to shoot water at varying pressures. One thing the tap didn’t have was temperature control, which meant that sitting on the toilet while it flushed was going to result in cold water squirting in your asshole. It’s not possible to turn off the spigot– or, at least I never found a way to do that. Consequently, if you are not sitting on the commode as it flushes, water might splash out from the little spigot. I made a YouTube video to show my readers exactly what I mean…

Shrinkage city! Actually, I did use the bidet function once, and it wasn’t so bad, even with the chilly water. But then, I don’t have a dick.

The room also had a minibar, which had everything from overpriced liquor and snacks, to a pair of socks and a condom. I usually take a photo of the minibar, but didn’t bother to on this trip. Bill explored it and told me all about the contents. I actually liked the art in the room, which I thought was rather thought provoking, although the drab brown color scheme was a bit depressing.

The bed was basically okay, although the mattress was a bit firmer than I’m used to. We used the air conditioning at night, since it was rather warm in Istanbul while we were there. We never turned on the flatscreen TV. I meant to, just to see what was on the telly, but I decided I’d rather just use my computer for entertainment.

Breakfast

Breakfast is served in the hotel’s restaurant, Zaxi. It’s buffet style, and there is a guy there who makes eggs to order. I probably should have tried an omelet, but I never bothered. There were many choices in the buffet, although I didn’t think the food was especially tasty. It was certainly adequate, and even pleasing in some instances. I liked the halva they offered– a thick, satisfying sesame seed creation. They also had a huge range of Turkish cheeses, which Bill loved. There were plenty of vegetables, breads, and the usual chafing dishes with scrambled and boiled eggs, sausages, and other sides. Of course, there weren’t any pork products offered.

The one thing that stuck out to me the most about eating in the restaurant was the weird music they played. I noticed they had a loop of bossa nova styled pop songs from the 1980s. Some of the retooled songs were truly strange, and they played them over and over throughout our stay. Are you seriously ready for a Bossa Nova rendition of “Like A Virgin” or “Beat It”?

I did like a few of the songs enough to Shazam them, but there were a few that were just ridiculous. I’m sure most people don’t pay attention to background music, but I am a musician, so I always notice it. I guess I’m just glad it wasn’t Muzak.

The spa

After breakfast, Bill went to his conference. The location was close enough that Bill and his buddies were able to walk there. I went back to bed, since I was a bit jet lagged. Then, at around 11:00 or so, I decided to go to the spa. I’ve heard that the spa at the Hilton Istanbul Maslak is not owned by the hotel. I’m not sure where the truth lies… but I have to say, it was a bit of a disappointment.

Years ago, I wrote a post about how, if you go to a pool in France, you have to wear Speedos and a swimming cap. I’ve since learned that this policy is in effect in some other European (or Asian) countries besides France. And, as it turns out, at least at this particular Turkish pool, you have to wear a swimming cap to use it. This is supposedly for hygiene reasons. They don’t want hair getting caught in the pool filters.

I don’t own a swimming cap. I probably could have purchased one at the spa, but the lady who told me about the policy was not clear about it. She did say that I could use the Jacuzzi without a cap, and there appeared to be another warm shallow pool that I probably could have used. I didn’t bother, though. I was just there to give housekeeping a chance to clean the room. I also don’t know if the powers that be who run this pool also require men to wear Speedos, like they do in France and apparently other countries in Europe.

I sat down on one of the loungers in the spa, which was mostly vacant the whole time I was there. I was a bit dismayed by how worn and stained the cushions were on the loungers. One of them had broken strings at the end of the cushion, so when I sat on it, the cushion shifted. I moved to a different lounger because of that.

And there were also no towels put out for guest use. So, the spa was a bust, which was a real bummer. Yeah, I could have bought a swimming cap, but I didn’t want to go swimming badly enough to try to stuff my hair into one.

After a couple of dry hours at the pool, I went back to the room, and was happy to see it had been cleaned. I decided to do some writing and wait for Bill to come back from his first day at his conference. I know I could have gone out and walked around the neighborhood, but I correctly assumed there wasn’t a lot for tourists to see there. There’s a mosque nearby, and I think an art gallery, but there weren’t really any decent sidewalks. The area is very crowded and not particularly interesting, unless you want to look at skyscrapers and dodge other people. So I stayed in the hotel and waited… and I took a few photos of the sunset… Too bad the windows were a little dirty.

Dinner at Zaxi

And then, for dinner, we tried the hotel restaurant, which was still playing that weird Bossa Nova music from the 80s. I had a beef rib, while Bill had roasted salmon with cauliflower puree. For a starter, we shared shrimps with a dip that I can no longer identify… I remember thinking the food was pretty good. We both enjoyed Bomonte lagers, a Turkish beer that was light and refreshing. And we also had dessert– profiteroles for me, and a warm lemon pistachio tart for Bill.

After dinner, we tried the lobby bar. I think the manager was trying to make small talk, because Bill told me that when I went to the restroom, the guy asked Bill if I was his wife. I’m sure he sees a lot of men in the bar either alone, or with female colleagues. It’s not so common to bring a spouse. I can kind of understand why…

We tried a Turkish red wine. The one we originally ordered wasn’t in stock, which was kind of a blessing, because it was priced at over $100 (in Turkish lira). What we had was much cheaper, and not too bad… although after we enjoyed it, I wondered what the more expensive one was like.

That about does it for Tuesday in Maslak. Stay tuned for the next post!

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anecdotes

Going swimming in France? Bring your Speedos…

Behold, the Speedo…

Last year, as Bill and I were transitioning back into life in Germany, one of the women in the local Facebook group brought up the issue of swimming at public pools in France.  She and her husband had encountered what seemed like a strange rule at the swimming pool they visited in France.  Like many American men, this lady’s husband prefers to wear board shorts or trunks when he goes swimming.  However, if you go to a pool in France and you are a guy, chances are good that you will be required to wear what they call a maillot.  Maillot is the French term for swimsuit.  Great, you say– trunks are swimsuits, right?  Wrong.

Many public pools in France do not allow men to wear board shorts or trunks because they could be worn out on the street.  If you wear your shorts as streetwear and then jump in the pool, you risk contaminating the water with dirt, sweat, oil, sunblock or what have you.  So the close fitting maillot, which is typically available for rent if you don’t have one of your own, is required for hygiene purposes.  Now, that’s all well and good, except for the fact that wearing a used maillot still damp from the previous customer doesn’t seem all that hygienic either.  Besides, while you’re really not supposed to pee in the pool, lots of people do it anyway.  So much for hygiene.

Public pools in France also typically require swimmers to wear swim caps in order to prevent long hair from getting in the water.  Even bald men are required to comply with this rule, though curiously enough, it’s okay for people with beards to swim.  And lest you think women have an easier time with public swimming pool rules, I have it on good authority that women are also required to wear a bikini or an athletic style bathing suit.  It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you need to be wearing Speedos due to your physique.  It’s all about hygiene.  If you try to enter the water with your more modest swimming trunks, you are liable to be yelled at by a lifeguard and forced to change.  You will also need to take a shower with soap before you take your dip in a French pool.

Most men can’t rock a Speedo like the Hoff could back in the day…

Here in Germany, trunks and board shorts in public pools appear to be okay, unless you are headed to the sauna or textile free area.  At that point, you are required to be naked.  Nudity is not a big deal in Germany; in fact, there are a number of places where it’s perfectly acceptable to be naked in public.  Personally, I find the idea of public nudity kind of titillating, even though I don’t necessarily want people to see me naked.

Bill, on the other hand, is way too bashful to even consider the idea of being nude in front of strangers.  It was a struggle to get him to go skinny dipping with me when we had a pool in our backyard.  Once he did it, he enjoyed it.  But it took a lot of doing to get him to try it.  I am pretty certain he will never don a Speedo, no matter how inviting the pool looks or how much I plead with him.

We have been toying with the idea of visiting Baden-Baden, which is close to where we live.  There are beautiful spas in that town.  However, if you visit the historic Roman Baths at Friedrichsbad, you have to be naked.  Aside from that, the baths are also co-ed except on certain days.  It’s something I would love to try because I love spas.  At the same time, I’m still an American and being nude in front of people other than Bill makes me uncomfortable.  I suspect my discomfort with the idea of my being nude in front of others has more to do with my not wanting other people to judge my body.  Of course, if everybody’s naked, everybody runs the risk of being judged… and from what I’ve heard from locals, most folks just plain don’t care what your naked body looks like.

If I ever do manage to get Bill to do a nude bath at Friedrichsbad, my guess is that getting him into a Speedo might be a lot easier.  On the other hand, I don’t like the idea of wearing a bathing cap, so we may have to stick to beaches if we go swimming in France.

Here’s Rick Steves’ take on Baden-Baden, which includes a trip to the famous nude baths…

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