The Cotton Castle Of Pamukkale

It’s actually quite hard to leave Selcuk, so we take one last stroll through town to bid farewell to Ali our new friend, Osman the guy at our favourite restaurant and finally Bora our host, and drive out of town with the unshakeable feeling that we have unfinished business here. 

The 3-hour-plus journey from Selcuk to our next destination Pamukkale turns out to be a rather uninspiring drive through mostly nondescript lands and industrial towns.  A very decent kebab lunch stop at Burharkent is the only point of interest until the last few miles before Pamukkale itself, where at last there are cotton fields and fruit farms to decorate the landscape.

Pamukkale, which translates literally as “cotton castle”, was originally a small farming village, around which has now grown a town which has been developed essentially for tourists who, like us, have come to view the natural phenomenon of the white mountain and the nearby ancient sites. You can see the white mountain for some distance as you approach the village: it’s a pretty remarkable site even from afar.

Of course, the white cliff phenomenon has nothing to do with the cotton which is coincidentally farmed all around this area, but is a result of hot thermal springs sending huge quantities of calcite-rich waters cascading down the mountainside. The minerals are deposited on the limestone rocks, forming snow white sculpted shapes over a large cliff like area, and the result is a spectacular shining white edifice dominating the plains below. The whole result of this process is a rock form known as travertine, but its appearance is almost one of a curtain of snow suspended in mid air above the plains.

The hot therapeutic waters which gush from the springs have been attracting visitors for millennia, indeed the sizeable Greek city of Hierapolis was founded here because of those hot springs, before the Romans moved in and enhanced the city still further.

We walk barefoot on the travertine – as per the rules – underfoot is gently rippled, a bit like the hardened shell of a cuttle fish, water gently skimming the surface on its journey downhill. The calcite deposit, the so called cotton castle, is dazzlingly bright in the morning sun. We paddle in the pools where there is a thin claylike consistency underfoot and the higher we go, the warmer the water becomes. A narrow gulley lines the edge of the pathway, water gushing down at some speed almost washing us away as we paddle, the water massaging us like an extreme jacuzzi. Climbing this strange white rock, feeling the power and the heat of the water, and stepping in these strange warm pools, is an altogether unusual experience.

There is an added bonus here too. If you turn away from the travertine and look south there are truly magnificent views back across the plains and the cotton fields, past the city of Denizli nestled in the foothills, to the towering Golgeli Dagi mountains beyond. It’s a stop and stare moment.

Once we reach the top of the travertine cliff, and sidestep the tourist trap foodcourt which would probably be mobbed in normal times, we are greeted by the wonderful sight of Hierapolis stretching out in every direction around us. The remains of public bath buildings, city dwellings, main streets, theatre and agora, are well enough preserved to give us a true perspective of the size of this city. More evidence is seen through churches, tombs and a necropolis which covers an enormous area. 

The heat is intense, the silence giving way to the buzzing of insects scurrying of lizards and the crunch of scorched vegetation beneath our feet, we feel that we are walking through history amongst this monumental site. Both Ephesus and Hierapolis have been fascinating places to visit, to feel, read and absorb the history of ancient civilisations.

The level of preservation, and the area covered, makes it perhaps easier to envisage the living city here than it was at Ephesus, even though Ephesus far outweighed Hierapolis in terms of both size and importance. 

As we leave Hierapolis and descend the travertine cliff, we are in awe of the sheer amount of water created here, bubbling hot from the springs and rushing down to the plains below. It is mind boggling to think that this volume of water has surged in this way, incessant for millennia. And this is only one spa of many around here. 

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