Foam truths in Istanbul
The Australian
August 02, 2014 12:00AM
I AM in Istanbul, fully rubbed and scrubbed, covered in soap and suds. My wet hair is plastered to my scalp and runny mascara has formed panda circles under my eyes. Here we go again — the young and vigorous Leyla is coming at me for about the fourth time with another gold-plated bowl brimming with water. “Plenty hot for you, lady!” she announces in a rejoicing voice. More sluicing and shrieking and general jiggling. Did I mention I am starkers?
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