Turkish Towels

My family loves to swim. Here is how much:

We got to this park, which has a heated, indoor pool, on December 1, 58 days ago. The pool heater was broken for our first week, so we didn't swim for 7 days. But during the last 51 days, we have swum approximately 62 times, for over an hour each. In the last 1,224 hours, we have spent 93 of them swimming.

We love to swim.

What we do NOT love, in our 450 square foot living space, is a bunch of damp towels draped over everything, making the air musty and the windows foggy.

Enter the Turkish towels.

I first took note of these magical, miraculous pieces of fabric way back in August, when we spent a week in Green Bay, Wisconsin. There was a French family there, all long limbs and effortless Continental beauteousness, and they were constantly wrapped in these light, airy, gorgeous cotton rectangles. They used them at the pool as towels. They tied them around their heads as turbans. They wore them as bright, colorful sarongs while walking around the park.

Now, I am 38 years old and I have LONG since given up on the idea that I will ever project that kind of effortless cool and glamor, and I am anything but long limbed and graceful. But my Hobbit eyes still appreciate lovely things, and my Hobbit practicality REALLY appreciates multi-use items that dry quickly. So I asked the family where they got their wraps, and the mother (Sister? Elves are ageless,) told me,

"We got them in Turkey. I don't think you have anything like them in this country."

Oookay. I let it go. I figured that my oafish American family was doomed to damp terrycloth forever, and that we just had to figure out a way to deal.

Fast forward to five months later, when I was (again) complaining to Jesse about wet towels, and he was (again) fretting about dampness inside the RV, I said to him,

"I'm just going to Google those Turkish things. Maybe if they're not too expensive, we can order them from Turkey."

Guess what, you guys?

They have them on Amazon. Six of them, for $45 and free shipping with Prime.

 I wasted FIVE MONTHS being annoyed and frustrated and trying to dry myself with something that was still soggy from the last time I went to the pool, just because some leggy French goddess told me that they didn't have the pretty towels here. Lesson learned. I will check for myself from now on.

And let me tell you, my friends: these are the best towels in the world. They are exactly as bright and attractive as I remember, they are useful for EVERYTHING, and the best part is that they dry in about half an hour. If we go swimming at 1:00, and again at 6:00, they are dry!

Turkish towels are also huge, but because they are so thin, they take up far less room in the RV cupboards than regular towels. Space is always at a premium for us, so this is a major benefit. Plus, even at parks, like this one, where they have a "no clotheslines" rule, no one is going to complain about a bunch of colorful sarong-like pieces of fabric on a drying rack outside, because it looks decorative and pretty!

The bad part: they're not as immediately absorbent as terrycloth, and they are not "scrubby." You can rub yourself with them and not get dry. But if you wrap them around you, they will absorb all the water from your suit or body, and suddenly, without even noticing what is happening, you'll be dry.

However, I will say that when you wrap up your hair in one of these and wear it for a bit, while you do other things, you will get the flowing, beachy waves of your dreams. Secrets unlocked, beautiful French people.

Turkish towels are amazing and wonderful, but unfortunately, they have not yet turned me into Cate Blanchett. Maybe soon, though? I'm still hoping.