Just before noon we make our way up to the Pamukkale Tavertines and the Ruins. We stop on the way to buy Willy a hat and I end up getting over excited and buying a dress. It's blue and can only ever be worn over togs because man the slits in the skirt come up way higher than I initially thought. It's almost a peepshow. Just joking Mum. It's definitely a beach dress though.
We pay our entry fee to the site and proceed up to the beautiful white hill we saw yesterday. Shoes are not allowed on the Tavertines so we walk up most of the incline bare foot. The feeling underfoot was unexpected, I don't know what I did expect but the dry, dusty, rough ground was not it. Slowly we ascended, passing pool after stunning pool. It's otherworldly, and so very pretty. Even at the end of the day I couldn't really process it properly - my brain kept telling me it was snow, but of course it's not.
At the summit we are thrust into a bizarre juxtaposition of lush manicured gardens, ancient ruins, and dust bowl. We roam the gardens and the ruins for a couple of hours but while we are in the theatre (incredible acoustics by the way) I get all nauseous and fainty. This level of heat doesn't agree with me and I seem to do this every other day. Poor Willy. We head back to the Tavertines and I chill out in one of the pools for a little while before we decide to suck up the extra charge and go for a wallow in the Antique Pool aka Cleopatras Pool.
Gosh I am so pleased that we didn't miss that. Well and truly one of the highlights of our trip. It's quite different to pool complexes at home because they give you a ticket which gets taken off you at a turnstile right on the steps into the pool. It's so weird. Once you are in you literally cannot re enter the water without paying another admission. It must work though as the numbers in the pool are not overly large, there are no children, and most bathers cycle through fairly quickly.
Being water babies we obviously hang out in the pool for a long time. The temperature is perfect, not hot, not cold, just perfect. I play a very convincing Little Mermaid on the submerged columns, Willy doesn't think that game is as much fun as I do though! We investigate the roped off section of the pool and discover that the depth increases dramatically. Demonstrating our best doggy paddling skills we paddle our way under the bridge to as close as we can get the the origins of the spring. I hear another tourist talking about how she tried to dive down and touch the bottom but it was too deep. Rubbish, I think as I hand Willy my sunglasses and take a deep breath. I dive down to the bottom. It's further than I had anticipated, but my pride is at stake and I push on. Eventually I get down to its pebbley bottom and push off, erupting through the surface and freaking out a Russian lady.
We laze around on the ruins for well over an hour, being ridiculously sappy and enjoying the water. The water is crystal clear and being so close to something so ancient, in such unique circumstances is truely quite surreal, not to mention very, very special.
Eventually we decide to push on and exit the pool. We make our way West, down an ancient Roman road. Either side of us we can see a huge amount of debris and moderately large ruins, most of which can be roamed freely. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky, creating a beautiful reddish glow through the haze. We are the only ones there. Eat your heart out Italy, with your long lines and many cordons, this place is unreal. We finally decide that we need to turn around if we want to make it back to the Tavertines by sunset, so we meander our way back along the top of many that had dried up. The white and grey dusty bowls, bathed in the soft red glow, really do make us feel like we are on Mars. Totally spectacular.
As we return to the gate I grab a couple more photo's and paddle once again in the Tavertines. Knowing how easily we could have skipped them, I am so happy that we had the chance to bathe in their magnificence. I still can't get over how empty the park felt today, had it been located in Italy it would have been teeming, absolutely seething with people.
We eat at Mehmets Heaven, where Mehmet himself had excitedly shown us the menu just the night before. Another man shows us to our table and takes our order before Mehmet spots us, waving happily from another table. Most people here seem so happy, Mehmet and his wife have run this restaurant for literally decades and yet he still meets and greets like you are his very first guest. It's really lovely, and a strategy that works well. In a town full of empty restaurants, Mehmets Heaven is fairly well patronised.
Returning to our hotel we stop in at the bus company. We walk away still not knowing what bus to take or what our destination might be. Man we sure are indecisive.
We lie on our bed with the aircon blaring. A repeat of Antalya. Canakale is ten hours by bus. Do we really want to do another ten hour bus ride? If we do, do we want to do it during the day (maybe get some sightseeing in) or save a night of accomodation, plus retaining the freedom to see some other parts of Pamukkale. We are getting tired and crunch time is quickly approaching. We resolve to take the earliest bus to Canakale. Setting our alarms for half past five, we plant our heads on our pillows and quickly disappear into dreamland.
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