We got picked up straight away, together with the other tired eyed, vulnerable tourists, for the free transfer from Dinizli to Pamukkale,.Sitting comfortably with our bags crammed in the minibus we are ready for the off when more and more people and luggage squeeze in.'Come on', we're thinking, 'get a move on'.We're tired and want to get to our hotel.A few minutes later a man came rushing to our bus and told only us two to get off.'What the hell's going on?', we say to ourselves.The driver tells us to get back on the bus.The new chap tells us to get off again!On the bus...off the bus...on the bus...off the bus!!We get off with our hand luggage and the new chap, now rather angry, is shouting at the minibus driver to open the back door so he can get our rucksacks but the driver flatly refuses to do so.We, along with another couple from Peru, look on bemusedly, as the exchange between the two reaches solar temperatures and just before they evaporate in a bubble of nuclear fusion the driver relents and opens the boot!We grab our bags and follow the new chap to his minibus, still not following exactly what's going on but somewhat confident in the knowledge that he was at least carrying a sheet of A4 paper with our names on it.When the mushroom cloud had settled, it was evident that the first driver was a tout who was going to take us to town, try and sell us his preferred accommodation, tours etc and if we said no was going to force us to pay the 'free' transfer fee or else leave us in the middle of nowhere to fend for ourselves.Mohammed, our new driver and our saviour, then had to flag down another coach on the highway so that he could pick-up the final passengers and transfer us all to Pamukkale; no bus stops needed in this town!

We arrived at our hotel, the Melrose House at 0630, which was far too early for the manager but a quick wake-up call from Mohammed saw him arrive 10-minutes later.We checked in and came down for breakfast at 0800 to find the boss asleep on a sofa in the lounge.

Our transfer arrived a little later to take us to the Pamukkale hot springs site, which also contains the ruins of the ancient city of Hierapolis.We jumped on the bus, said hello to our tour group members and sat down for the ride into town.Two minutes later we're asked to get off the bus as we need to transfer to another one which contains our real tour group.'Bye', we say as we step down from the minivan, 'It was nice meeting you'.

Our new group consists of 1 x Italian, 1 x Brit, 3 x Australians, 1 x French (non-English speaking) .A young girl in the front passenger seat turns round and just about manages to say hello and we say hi back to this friendly member of our group.There's no obvious guide in the bus so we figure we will met them when we get to the first site.We drive neither to Hierapolis of Pamukkale but instead to a spring somewhere else, the name of which escapes me as I didn't bother to find out; I was already annoyed at this stage!It turns out that our tour guide, from this moment on known as the 'Tour Student', was the young, non-English speaking girl in the passenger seat of the mini-bus.We all need to remember also that we have paid for this tour and expected an English speaking guide as part of the package.Well, it sort of makes sense really!

Anyway, we walked past numerous trinket stalls to a small area which is cordoned off from the rest of the site using red and white tape.'What the hell are we doing here?' I think to myself.Amid coos of amazement from the Australian students, 'Tour Student' explains in pigeon English/Turkish that at 60°C this spring water is some of the hottest natural water in the area.The water in Pamukkale is only 30-40°.The Australians can't wait to take their shoes and socks off, 'Can we go in, can we go in?' they plead, and off they go paddling in the 4 square feet of water that reaches a massive depth of 1 inch!We spend an inordinate amount of time here, looking vacantly at each other, wondering what's coming next, waiting for the jewel in the crown to be unveiled.There is no crown.There is no jewel.There's not even a glint in where the jewel should be.There is no point!'Would you like to look at the shops?' pipes up 'Tour Student'.Already she's encouraging us to shop!

I 'm feeling as deflated as a Masterchef contestant's failed soufflé and feel even more for our poor French man who has even less idea of what's going on than I do!I can't help sensing the dawn of a new era between French and English tourist relations!We hurriedly, sorry, slowly move to our next destination, the Hellenistic city of Hierapolis.At last, things are going to get interesting.

There are only a few historical facts known about the origin of Hierapolis and no traces of the presence of Hittites or Persians have been found.The temple dedicated to Hieron was probably built in the first half of the third century BC and the temple would later form the centre of Hierapolis which is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.What is known, however, is that the dynasty of the Attalids, the kings of Pergamon, established the thermal spa of Hierapolis in the 2nd century BC.Hierapolis then flourished to became one of the most prominent cities in the Roman empire in the fields of the arts, philosophy and trade and the town grew to 100,000 inhabitants .It was abandoned in the late 14th century AD.At its peak though, people came here from near and far to experience the healing properties of the thermal waters, to soothe their ailments and, for many of them, to retire and even die here.

We start at the main colonnaded road and the extensive Northern Necropolis which extends for over two kilometres.'Tour Student' starts telling us about the different kinds of tombs but I quickly give up as I'd have more success understanding a gold-fish speaking Klingon whilst I'm wearing head phones listening to my iPod.I do catch 'and this inscription is used to scare off evil' but when I ask what it says I receive an honest, 'I don't know...but it's used to scare off evil'.Whoah.Impressive!

Things are not getting interesting.I devise a cunning plan.I've noticed that the site is quite well signed so decide to do my own thing, take pictures of the signs and figure out what it's really about later, piecing the jigsaw together with photos, quick scribblings in my note book and the web!

It turns out that most of the 1200 or so tombs have been excavated and, despite the ruinous nature of the site, Hierapolis is one of the best preserved Necropolises in Turkey and the extent of this necropolis attests to the importance Hierapolis had in the Antiquity.Most tombs date from the late Hellenic period, but there are also a considerable number from the Roman period, and the early Christian period.The tombs are of several types according to traditions and reflecting the social-economic status of the people.They can be divided into four types: simple graves for the common people; sarcophagi: some raised on a substructure, others hollowed out in the rocky bottom.Most are constructed in marble and are decorated with reliefs and covered with epitaphs, showing the name and profession of the deceased and extolling their good deeds; circular tumuli with a narrow passageway leading to a vaulted chamber inside; larger family graves, sometimes monumental and resembling small temples.The remains really were in a bit, well a lot, of a state but the sheer size of the Necropolis, and the ornate carvings on the fallen ruins, is impressive in itself.

Feeling guilty and rude about wandering off I decide to catch up and see if the language barrier has improved.'And this inscription is used to scare off evil' informs 'Tour Student'.

We continue our 'tour', passing more tombs, the Roman baths, great arches and more columns, and spy fellow passengers from last night's coach ride being expertly guided around the site.I want to sneak off and join their group!

We're ambling along getting tired, listening in to 'Tour Student' as attentively as someone being administered a general anaesthetic drifts in and out of consciousness.'And this is not a sarcophagus but was used to store water so that all the dead spirits could wake up in the middle of the night and drink'.'What did she just say', Maria and I mutter to each other.'That has to be a guide in-joke surely?We've never heard such nonsense!'.

There's so much fascinating history and archaeology here and we're missing it all.We get vague descriptions of the Temple of Apollo and hear something to do with gas at the Plutonium, but really, really would have been better off joining a Japanese group; any group.

A Temple of Apollo was raised to Apollo, the principal god of Hierapolis, during the Hellenistic period but today only its foundations remain.The new temple was reconstructed in the 3rd century in Roman fashion but has a smaller area and now only its marble floor remains.The Temple of Apollo was deliberately built over an active fault passing underneath, giving rise to the cave of the Plutonium.When 'Tour Student' was explaining the Plutonium we had absolutely no idea what on earth she was going on about.Gas, priests,...Apollo in Hades please help!

It turns out that the Plutonium, located within the sacred area of the Temple, is the oldest local sanctuary and is a shrine to the god of the underworld.It is a small cave, just large enough for one person to enter through a fenced entrance, beyond which stairs go down, and from which emerges suffocating carbon dioxide gas caused by underground geologic activity. Behind the small roofed chamber is a deep cleft in the rock, through which fast flowing hot water passes releasing a sharp smelling gas.Because people died in the gas, people thought that it was sent by Pluto, god of the underworld.

During the early years of the town castrated priests descended into the Plutonium, crawled over the floor to pockets of oxygen or held their breath. Whey then came up to show that they were immune to the gas the gullible townsfolk believed a miracle had happened and that the priests were infused with superior powers and possessed divine protection.Di you know that they've removed the word 'gullible' from the dictionary?

We view the ruins of The St. Philip Martyrium, named after the Christian apostle Philip.It dates from the fifth century AD. It is said that St. Philip is buried in the centre of the building, but his grave has not been discovered.Philip is said to have been martyred in Hierapolis by being crucified upside-down; poor chap!

We desperately need some water now so stop off in the Cleopatra Cafe, complete with Roman spa/swimming pool, and share a coffee with our new French friend.He's a really great guy who spent 6 years in California but has since forgotten most of his English.He's a patisseriere...makes cakes, pastries etc in a small French town.The Australians want to swim in the waters that are alleged to have been responsible for the Egyptian Queen's youthful beauty but they can't afford the extortionate fee.Whilst talking we spy 'Tour Student' sitting alone at a table so beckon her over to join us.Hey, not even Maria and I are that mean!Well I'm not!!

After a 30-minute break we head back to finish the Hierapolis tour by visiting the theatre an on the way some Greek writing gets pointed out to us, 'and this inscription is used to...'Yeah, yeah, we know... scare off evil'!The theatre is impressive but by now is just another theatre to us so we walk the 300 metres to the Cotton Castle, stopping by the museum and its impressive statuary on the way, having exhausted our sojourn around Hierapolis.

Pamukkale, meaning 'Cotton Castle' in Turskish, is famous for the travertines, terraces of carbonate minerals left by the hot spring water flowing over the cliff face.I'll spare you the chemistry!The white castle is 2,700 metres long, 600 m wide and 160 m high and the spectacle really is surreal.The landscape is made up of white mineral forests, petrified waterfalls and a series of terraced basins that make it look like a winter wonderland all year long.People have bathed in its pools for thousands of years and as recently as the mid 20th century hotels were built over the ruins of Hierapolis, causing considerable damage. An approach road was built from the valley over the terraces and motor bikes were allowed to go up and down the slopes.However, when the area was declared a world heritage site the hotels were demolished and the road removed and replaced with artificial pools.Wearing shoes in the water is prohibited to protect the deposits.

Maria couldn't wait to take her shoes and socks off.I swear she would have stripped naked and swum for the rest of the trip if she could.'It's good for the liver, intestines and skin' she kept telling me as she splashed the water on her face and arms.The skin, maybe, I say to myself, but I don't fancy tracking down the world's few remaining lepers and throwing them in the restorative water to find out!

'Tour Student' tells us we have to take off our socks and walk out across the path and down the rock face.'But I don't want to' I protest, having done it before in 1997 and not particularly enjoyed the experience.It's pretty uncomfortable walking across sedimentary rock bare foot!I have no choice so take off my shoes and socks, roll up my trousers and set off.As I thought, the walk is slightly annoying but I have to admit that my feet do feel better when we get to the bottom after 30 minutes.Maria just wants to walk back up and do it all over again.

Tour over we go to the travel company office and tell Mohammed that our guide was pleasant enough but is not yet ready to be let loose alone.It turns out that 'Tour Student' is in fact still a student and has not yet graduated from her Tourism and Tour Guiding course.Mmmm, that could explain it, she's only ever been to Heirapolis before with her lecturers!It also turns out that she's Mohammed's girlfriend.That doubly explains it!We tell Mohammed that we want a proper guide for tomorrow's trip to Aphrodisias but when he tells us the price we back down, especially at the thought of receiving more of the same!

Back at the hotel, Maria told me that when she was walking the ruins, she pulled the guide to one side and gave her some honest, frank feedback.Expecting her to be hurt and offended, Maria was somewhat surprised to hear nothing but thank you and gushing praise.How Maria tells someone they're crap then ends up becoming their best friend is beyond me!