OR, A WHITE MOUNTAIN OF CALCIFIED MINERALS

Well, finally this old bird got to swim in Cleopatra’s pool!

Going to Pamukkale from Tire requires a three-hour drive. I was drained and bone weary from the ghastly band and its thumping bass keeping me awake till two in the morning. The weather was shit and I was a reluctant passenger at the beginning. However once on the road, I was reinvigorated and regained my energy and adventure lust.

The countryside is spectacular. Valleys, mountains, lakes, rivers, deciduous woods, coniferous forests and the eternal olive groves are everywhere. I saw places of poverty as well as more affluent communities. The arrival vista at Hieropolis is, however, another thing even in the grey misty weather.

It stretches over a mountain top, glistening white like a huge, white snowy blanket of an ancient giant, thrown casually down landing atop a mountain full of bubbling hot thermal springs. It has a secret bonus, the ruins of the major Greek ‘Holy City’, Hierapolis.