๐น๐ท The Great Turkish Adventure: Part Two - Pamukkule
We took three bus trips in Turkey. One was short. Two were really, really long. The shortest trip was from Bodrum to Pamukkale. It took about five to six hours.
Somewhere during this journey, I surprised even myself and decided to be practical.
I checked Google reviews of the Denizli bus station to figure out how to reach our hotel. Because no matter where you travel, someone before you has struggled and written about it.
Sure enough, one reviewer mentioned that the underground level of the station has small buses that drop you close to Bellamaritimo Hotel.
We reached Pamukkale around 10 or 11 at night — exhausted, hungry, and emotionally ready for food.
The bus station, however, had other plans.
No shop....No restaurant....Just darkness,
Hunger and a quiet sense of regret.
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So we did what hungry travelers do. We walked around looking for food. Finally, we found a small shop. An old man was running it. He appeared to be in his 80s. He gave us that look that needs no translation.
He didn’t speak much English, so we brought in Google Translate as our mediator. I typed our order in English, the phone converted it to Turkish, and then loudly announced it through the speaker. Since reading was clearly not the best option here, this felt like the safest plan.The uncle listened carefully and nodded his head, and quietly made us sandwiches...both veg and non veg.
Technology is amazing.
While he made the sandwiches, the uncle kept smiling at us. Maybe he was happy to have customers so late at night. Maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he was laughing at us inside. We will never know.
He kept asking us questions in Turkish. We could not understand anything. In my head, it all sounded like: "blah blah blah blah."
So what did we do? We nodded. We nodded like we understood everything perfectly.He seemed happy, so we went along with it.
We also used hand gestures. These gestures could have meant "yes" or "no" or "we are confused" or "where is the bathroom?"
But somehow, everything felt nice. Everyone was smiling. We used the translator to tell him we are from India.
And suddenly, everything changed.
"INDIA?!"
The old uncle’s face immediately lit up. Then, as if summoned by the sound of Google Translate speaking Turkish, a younger guy appeared from nowhere — maybe 15 to 20 years old. Both of them stared at us like we’d just arrived from another planet. We felt like celebrities.
It felt nice. But also a little scary. Like, now we have to represent our whole country. No pressure, right?
We said goodbye using the translator. They said something in Turkish. By this time, I had learned one Turkish word: su. It means water.
Big achievement.
Finding the Hotel
Next job: get to our hotel.....Bellamaritimo
Remember the Google research I did on the bus? Now it was time to use it.
We went to the basement of the bus station. Just like the reviews said, there were small buses there.
The small bus dropped us about 500 meters away from our hotel.
So we walked the rest of the way. In the dark. With all our bags.
While dragging our bags along the road, we passed a hotel with a board that read “Ayapam Hotel.” For a brief, tired moment, we wondered if the name was connected to Lord Ayyappa. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe divine comfort awaited nearby.
Finally, we reached the hotel. A man who looked about 50 years old checked us in. Then came the final surprise: no lift. Not even a small one pretending to work. So we carried our bags all the way to the top, step by step. We reached our room, collapsed, and finally ate the sandwiches the old uncle had made.
They were excellent.
Or we were just extremely hungry.
At that point, the difference didn’t matter.
A Surprise in the Sky
Next morning, I opened the window. And I saw something beautiful.
Hot air balloons. Many of them. Rising slowly into the sky.
I was confused. "Balloons? Here? In Pamukkale?"
I thought balloons were only in Cappadocia. Nobody told me Pamukkale also has balloons. This is important information. Travel guides should put this on the first page:
"By the way, the sky might look like a painting sometimes."
The Uncle at Reception
We went down for breakfast and immediately spotted a familiar face behind the food counter.
It was the man from the night before — the one who checked us in.
Not the sandwich uncle.
The hotel uncle.
He was busy with other guests. He didn't look at us. No "Good morning." No smile. Nothing.
We were expecting something. Maybe a small wave. Maybe a "Hello, my midnight guests!" But no. He was in full work mode.
Then I remembered something.
We didn't give him a tip last night.
Ah. That explains it.
We're not cheap, okay? We had the tip ready. We just wanted to plan our day first and give it in the morning. We were just badly organized. There's a difference.
A small difference. But still.
The Tip Situation
There was another guy at reception, probably in his 30s or 40s. Good English, great manners, very friendly — clearly the customer service edition of the hotel.
He told us the plan for the day:
"We will arrange a car for you. It will take you to the top entrance of the travertines. You don't need a car to come back. You can walk down through the travertines."
Good plan.
We gave him the tip money and said, "Please give this to the uncle from last night."
He smiled, walked over, handed it to him, and pointed back at us like evidence. The uncle nodded — not happy, not angry — just updated.
Balance restored.
Then we were told to sit. Food immediately started arriving. A lot of food.
Cheese. Bread. Eggs. Olives. And several items that looked important but came with no explanation.
The Serious Driver
Then our car arrived. The driver was the night reception uncle.
This man was still serious. No smile. No "hello." Just pure "I drive. You sit." energy.
The whole ride was silent. No radio. No talking. Just the sound of the engine. And our breathing.
I tried to smile at him once. He responded by adjusting his mirror.
Okay. Message received.
We reached the top entrance. We got out of the car. We gave him 300 lira as a tip.
And then... magic happened.
His whole face changed. He smiled so big. He looked so happy. In five seconds, he went from "serious taxi man" to "favorite uncle at a wedding."
Turns out, money can buy happiness. Or at least, it can buy a very nice smile.
Maybe he didn't expect a tip. Maybe he thought we would just leave. But he looked genuinely happy.
So yes. We made Uncle's day.
The Ticket Trick
Now, here's an important warning. Be careful when buying tickets for the travertines.
The ticket counter is like a small battlefield.
The price list shows 30 euros for the basic ticket. That's already expensive. But the ticket sellers will try to trick you. They will tell you that you have to buy the 40 euro ticket with headphones.
They will say, with a straight face, "Sorry sir, the system only allows the 40 euro option."
They will look you in the eyes like, "You must experience these calcium rocks in surround sound."
This is not true.
You have to stand strong. Keep saying: "No headphones. Thirty euros."
Don't blink. Don't smile. Become a statue.
Eventually, they will "check the system again." And suddenly—surprise!—30 euros works fine.
Funny how that happens.
Once you’re inside though, the travertines really are stunning. These bright white calcium terraces with blue water, formed over thousands of years. Nature spent centuries building a masterpiece and humans showed up like, “Nice. Where’s the gift shop?”
Near the white travertines of Pamukkale are the ancient ruins of Hierapolis, a city built over 2,000 years ago. It was once a popular Roman spa town because people believed the hot springs had healing powers.
Today, you can see ruins of a grand theatre, bathhouses, and a large ancient cemetery. The city was damaged by many earthquakes and rebuilt several times. Walking here feels like history meeting nature.
We’re taking photos, minding our business, when this lady comes over to take her picture. Her husband stayed on the shore..
She’s posing, hat on, having her main-character moment… and she slips.
Straight into the water.
And her hat doesn’t even hesitate. The hat floats away like, “I’m sorry, I can’t be associated with this.”
We could have grabbed it, but that would mean wet clothes. We’re helpful, yes, but boundaries exist. So we helped her up, checked she was okay. She was just very, very red-faced.
And honestly? It could happen to anyone.
She survived with nothing injured except her dignity, which took a direct hit and is currently still floating somewhere near that hat.
Random connections
We kept walking through the travertines, minding our own barefoot business, when suddenly heard Kannada.
We turn around, and there’s a group from Karnataka. Not just Kannada—they also know Malayalam. What are the odds? You fly hours across continents, and somehow end up in a random South Indian reunion on a hill of white rocks with very confused Europeans watching.
My mother-in-law immediately flips into Friend Mode. Two minutes later, they’re chatting like long-lost neighbors who once argued over a compound wall. The South Indian language network is ruthless. You think you escaped home, but nope—home has roaming.
Crossing the travertines from top to bottom was harder than it looks, because some parts are slippery. Like “one wrong step and you become content for somebody else’s vacation video” slippery. We took it slow, stayed upright, and made it down with zero dramatic falls—which honestly felt like an achievement worth a certificate.
Once we finished walking through nature’s calcium foot spa, we dried off, put our shoes back, and headed to the hotel. Slept for exactly one hour, then checked out.
Getting to the Bus Station
We had to catch a van to the Pamukkale bus station. So we grabbed our bags and walked to where we thought the van stop was.
A local person corrected us immediately.
"It's farther."
Of course it's farther. It's always farther. This is a rule of travel:
The moment you carry luggage, every distance becomes longer.
It's science. The suitcase adds weight. Time slows down. The road becomes 40% longer just to annoy you.
We finally reached the right spot. Then a man came out of a travel agency named "Metro". He said, "Come inside!"
Our brains immediately said: "No. This is a scam. This is how scams start."
Why would a stranger invite you inside? Normal people don't do that.
But surprise! He wasn't a scammer. He was just excited to meet Indians. Then his friend came out of nowhere. Now we had a small welcome party.
And then his friend asked us a big question.
He asked about India and Pakistan.
You know. Casual conversation.
So we told him the truth. The problems are between governments. Not between normal people. Regular people on both sides just want to live in peace.
They understood.
Then the van arrived, we said goodbye to our new travel-agency friends, and headed to the Pamukkale bus station to catch our next bus to Cappadocia.
Just a normal day. Dragging bags. Worrying about scams. Discussing international politics. Running for transport.
Vacation life.
The Bus Ride
Turkish buses are annoyingly good. I have to admit it. On all three trips, they served hot water, gave you tea bags, handed out snacks, and if you didn’t want tea, you could ask for a cold drink instead. Very accommodating.
We had stocked up on snacks from A101, which is basically Turkey’s “you’re definitely going to need chips for this” store. We were ready.
And then… I don’t even remember when I fell asleep. That’s what long bus rides do. You just blink, your soul leaves your body for a while, and next thing you know, you wake up in a totally different place like, "Oh. New city. Same back pain."
To Be Continued...
Next time: Cappadocia. Where the rocks look like they're from another planet. And the hot air balloons actually appear where you expect them.
Quick Travel Tips from This Trip:
Google reviews are your friend. Search for transport options before you arrive. I found out about the basement buses this way.
Learn one local word. Even just "water" (su in Turkish) makes you feel accomplished.
Stand firm at ticket counters. If the price list says 30 euros, you can get 30 euros. Don't fall for the "system" excuse.
Carry cash for tips. It can turn a serious driver into your best friend.
Be ready to represent your country. You never know when someone will get excited about where you're from.
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