Pamukkale is the current, Turkish name for the village but the Greeks who settled the higher ground centuries ago called it Hieropolis, a dedication to Hera, the wife of Zeus, and a hard to please lady you may remember from your mythology. This little spot in Turkey is quite the tectonic hotspot. At least two faults meet underground here, and that has created an unusual landscape feature. Hieropolis is on a plateau, and warm springs, about 95 degrees Fahreneit, burble up from the ground. These waters have unusually high concentrations of carbon dioxide and calcium dissolved in them. Once the water reaches the surface and starts to drop off the cliff, the carbon dioxide bubbles out of solution and the calcium is left behind, creating these terraced pools of calcium, called travertines. The calcium starts off white, so it looks like fluffy cotton, hence the cotton fortress. It's quite a sight (and my picture does it no justice), but I'm with Cleopatra, for whom the bathing spring where the waters originate is named after. Get me in those in healing waters! A health spa for thousands of years, Pamukkale's waters are said to be very good for the skin, eyes, joints, etc. Basically, a miracle cure. I don't know about that and the packed cemeteries do tell a different story, but I greatly enjoyed lounging in them for two hours. They're strewn with remnants of ancient columns, which create great seating and lounging opportunities in the waist-high water. I've now partaken of two natural springs named after old Cleo because of her attendance. She was a real waterbaby, I guess.
I couldn't make myself explore the ruins of Hieropolis because I had to save all my appetite for antiquity for Ephesus, which I visited the following day. Ephesus was once the capital of the Roman province of Asia Minor and housed 250,000 citizens at its peak. So much of the city is preserved that you don't need much imagination at all to envision its layout, the buildings, etc. In fact, I now know what a Roman latrine looked like. Boys, don't ever complain about urinals' lack of privacy. You could have been a Roman citizen. Trust this.
The region that Ephesus is in has a fascinating history. Greeks, Romans, and Christians all had their time in the sun before the Turks and Arabs arrived. One of the seven wonders of the world was built just outside of old Ephesus, the Temple of Artemis, but it was destroyed by earthquakes and pagan-hating Christians in the early ADs. However, archeologists have managed to cobble together one column to 14m high, 4.5m short of the original height, and the temple was over 150m long on a long side. Sizable. Now I've visited two sites of the original 7 wonders (the other being the Pyramids of Giza), only 5 to go. Greece, Egypt, and Turkey have 6 between them, so this should be easy to knock out, except for those pesky Hanging Gardens of Babylon (Iraq).
The other site of note in the Ephesus region is the purported House of the Virgin Mary. Apparently, John, disciple of Jesus, took care of Mary after the crucifixion, and it's widely believed that they both came to Turkey to get away from it all. John got into some hot water and was exiled to a nearby island for a time, but no one really knows what Mary got up to. Hundreds of years and one German nun's vision later, a ruin was found in the forested hill and proclaimed to be Mary's retirement home. It's now a Catholic church, but it's so small I'd call it a chapel. Did you know that Muslims believe that Jesus was born by immaculate conception? I knew that he was considered a prophet, though not the son of God, but I was surprised to find that the virgin birth is noted and accepted in the Koran. Right under the church/house, there is a natural spring, and the water is considered holy. The guide told our group that the three taps are considered to represent love, health, and wealth. And that the water is potable. I took my empty water bottle and dosed it up two-thirds with health - because you can't enjoy the others very well without it - almost filled it up with love, then took a deep swig to make room for wealth. And then I prayed that it was indeed potable and pretty much chugged it. I was parched.
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