Crown of the Cotton Palace
At the peak of the white cotton palace of Pammukale lies Hieropolis; an ancient Roman spa city founded around 190 B.C. The ruins include a well-preserved theater and a necropolis with sarcophagi that stretch for 2km.
At the end of the 2nd century B.C. the dynasty of the Attalids, the kings of Pergamon, established the thermal spa here.
When we reach the top of the calcite encrusted natural palace we are greeted by a small water fountain, and an expensive coffee shop. I take a tiny sip of the water. I'm not sure if it will sit right in my stomach, so just a small libation is enough. Respect the water in places you visit, but unless you know it is safe, don't drink it.
This baptism bowl reminds me of the White Spring garden.
UNESCO's Protection and Restoration
Hieropolis is a UNESCO site. It was destroyed by an earthquake in 60 A.D. and rebuilt by the Roman empire. In recent times the danger of further damage is not from earthquakes, but from the increasing volume of tourists.
Access to parts of the site are restricted to visitors, it's a positive move from UNESCO, the ropes barring access take nothing from its magnificence.
It is a huge open air museum and a bit of a hike to get up to the top. Before we set off to the Apollo Temple high on the hill, we explore the nymphaion. In ancient Greece and Rome, monuments were consecrated to the nymphs, especially those of springs. Also, a gymnasium and baths are provided close by.
Bath House Museum
Hieropolis archeology museum in the Great Bath building shows the best of the artifacts found on the site. There are loads of people weaving about each other and making room for photographs. 
There is a Health official at the left of the door. So Max and I make jokes about not being able to get an appointment. I suspect that this official only healed the wealthy Romans. Thank goodness for the NHS.
Dr Who?
Have you seen the Weeping Angels episode of Dr Who? It's terrifying. Now I love museums and old marble statues, though I must confess, as a fan of Doctor Who, I find some of them spooky. These particular statues did not disappoint.
Next we find Attis, God of vegetation.
He looks bored, like he has seen too many tourists. Attis is in fact a vegetation god, much like our John Barleycorn in the British isles. In his self-mutilation, death, and resurrection, he represents the fruits of the earth, which die in winter only to rise again in the spring. In art Attis was frequently represented as a youth, with the distinctive Phrygian feeling of Jack in the Green.
Emperor Hadrian
An impressive statue of Hadrian stands towering over Max. Only one and a half legs remain of the giant and we have to imagine the rest of him. His head would have been higher than the bath house ceiling.
Various sarcophagi are displayed in the centre, some plain and some elaborate with garlands, depictions of the goddess Nike at the corners and Eros or Medusa along the sides. In death, most important folk were interred in these kind of elaborate tombs.
Attis still looks bored.
From across the bath house, the goddess Isis gives him a look. It's incredible how the old masters created such flowing fabrics, details and expressions in marble. I acknowledge Isis in front of her likeness.
Even More Sarcophagi
Many more sarcophagi lay around outside. A winged being with human face and torso and lion legs freaks me out with it's vaguely threatening expression and a lion takes on a bull. It has weathered in a most gruesome and impressive way.
Relief of Local God
We see a bust decorated around the top with what looks like upside down eggs and flanked by two torches. It is marked, relief of local God. I empathise, I am also relieved. The museum display is over and now we can head up to the Temple of Pluto.
Just as we pass the entrance to the bath house, I go back in to face my fears and take a closer look at Attis. Or maybe he takes a closer look at me! I confront the most harrowed face before I leave.
The Temple of Pluto
We hike up to the Plutonium. I tell Max to go on ahead as I am much slower than he is. Fitter people fly past me, but others are taking it slowly, so I don't feel too bad.
The restoration of the plutonium is well underway. With the magic of modern technology, the centrepiece has been digitally recreated from old photographs that were taken from all angles to recreate the original form. So once again, Cerberus can sit beside Pluto, guarding the entrance to the underworld.
Entrance to the Underworld.
This is one of the most famous sanctuaries in Asia Minor. The thermal spring waters flowed from this spot and dangerous gases were emitted from the cave, which is why it was considered the entrance to the Underworld.
Here, bulls were asphyxiated by the fumes and sacrificed. Worshippers could watch the rites from a safe distance. However, both then and now, no one goes down to the area in front of the cave. The thermal spring waters continue to flow and the water looks a bit grimy.
Only eunuch priests of Cybele would be able to enter the lower area. After a period of fasting, prayers and baths in the thermal spring waters, they descended without being killed by the fumes.
The stone benches provided were a place for worshippers to spend the night with the expectation that Pluto would appear in their dreams. It is said that worshippers would receive potent prophecies and their diseases would be healed.
To the Grand Theatre.
This is a most impressive ancient amphitheatre. I manage to get a picture that looks like it is empty, but in reality there are about 200 people behind me all trying to get the best image.
The steps down are worn by weather and footfall and they look pretty dangerous, so we decide to stay in the cheap seats and imagine what it would have been like when it was full of people.
Half way down there is a wooden barrier preventing tourist access, but one family takes no notice of it. Two men and a 12 year old boy head down and jump the fence. They make it down to the expensive seats. Everyone is shocked and some folk make a fuss, until a security guard takes notice and whistles. They ignore it and continue, laughing as they go. The guard goes down and shouts at them. They get up on the stage. Ok, it's entertainment of sorts, but no one is impressed.
Eventually, the guard is threatening enough for them to leave the stage and climb back over the fence. Smug smiles and attitude win them no fans and they are booed as the guard leads them out of the area. They are the only ones who find it amusing.
We are suitably entertained, and they are left to go about their business. So, it's time for a quick selfie, then back down the cotton ramparts and home to our guesthouse.
Tip the Bard
Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this article, feel free to by me a coffee. Turkish coffee is strong and bitter, we love it.
Much love and bright blessings.