She leads me by my hand up the stairs, grabbing a towel on the way and muttering something in Turkish to another woman in the room. In a small glass cubicle, handing me the towel, she says in her first English words to me, ‘take off everything and wear this.’ I look at her a little puzzled as she shuts the transparent door and waits outside. I’m at a Hamam aka the much famed Turkish Bath, and no amount of googling could make this situation feel less awkward. For the uninitiated, a Hamam is a sort of traditional group spa from the Ottoman era, complete with steam bath & massage, typically with separate chambers for men & women. I contemplate for a few seconds, and recalling the advise I’ve read online, I decide to go topless below the towel but keep my underpants on. I step out the cubicle and follow my lady through passages with gradually increasing levels of steam, and enter a massive area with high marble ceilings where four women are chatting in Turkish, naked except underwears, some being lathered & massaged, others …