I woke up in our cushy dorm room to find a delicious spread of coffee and hungarian pastries being laid out in the centre table for breakfast. Well done Mike and Costas.
We dug out our city map, well marked and scribbled on by Zsofia who had pointed out the city's top spots for visiting. Her list of recommendations grew longer as the night wore on, as did our love for the city so we decided that we would stay again a second night.
TOp of our list was the Hungarian thermal baths- or spas- and not ones where you just drink the water from a porcelain teapot. With a discounted rate available for visitors after 17:00, we decided to visit the Gellert baths for some end-of-day relaxation. The day was spent wandering through town, crossing the bridge over to the Pest side and up the prominent hillside toward the Royal Palace and the surrounding Budapest Castle. Offering stretching views of the city and the Danube, the short walk was certainly worth the panaroma. Tasty sandwiches, local cheese and salt bread rolls and breaded mushrooms made for a lovely lunch in a shady park within the walls of the old castle.
By mid-afternoon we headed down to the riverside to make our way south along the riverbank to the Gellert spa- still enjoying clear skies and 33degree sunshine.
We came upon the towering Gellert Hotel, home to the city's most famous thermal spa. We arrived a tad early so settled in at the hotel's lavish outdoor patio and splurged on some drinks while we took in the view of the Erzsebet hid- the Elizabeth Bridge. My first sip of a deep oaky white Hungarian chardonnay in the late afternoon sunshine was only the beginning of the luxuries to come.
The entrance to the Gellert spa, perched at the bottom of Gellert hill, was through a set of big wooden doors, with towering marble columns on either side. Despite the imposing exterior, the main lobby was seemingly informal. We shuffled in slowly, carefully taking in the surroundings. Once through the small lobby and through two large archways, a massive rectangular hall opened up in front of us. The floor was tiled with intricate mosaics in varying shades of earthy browns, greens, orange and gold. A series of large roman-style domes formed the ceiling of the hall, each decorated with stained glass and stretching high above. Their glintering colourful light brought a warm glow to the hall.
Halfway down the hall were wide stairwells tucked away on both sides. The main area had two service desks on either side. One advertised thai massages, the other appeared to be some sort of general information booth. Were it not for the opulent surroundings, I might have felt like I was in a 1970s mall about to close down, with only a few shops left. At the front and tucked to the side was a glass covered case, looking like an old mall directory board that listed the range of services available within the thermal spa in both Hungarian and English. What a list it was. Thermal bath ticket, 'managers' massage (for the over-worked manager), chocolate bath, underwater beam therapy... We excitedly read through the list- it was all very well priced- with a 30minute massage costing approximately 14 euro.
At the front left was a small wooden ticket booth.
I approach the woman sitting behind the glass, "Hello. Can I please get a 30minute massage? And entry to the thermal bath?"
"Yes," she replies, "Is this time okay?" she asks, pointing to a slip of paper where she has written "15:25."
"Perfect," I reply. Once I've paid the woman hands me two receipts- one for my massage and one for thermal bath entry. She then hands me a plastic watch, only with no face, just a green circle.
I had seen a few people walking around with these things, but hadn't yet figured out what on earth they were for.
"And where do I go now?" I ask before stepping away from the booth.
"Down there," she says pointing down the grand hall, "and the second door on your right."
I say my thanks and wait for the others to pay for their various massages and get their "watches" too.
Bathing suits and towels in hand, we make our way down the hall toward the "second door" on the right. There are two entrances that we can see- each with a set of turnstiles in front of them. We mistakenly approach the first one as it appears to be some sort of women's treatmen area. A man standing at the door checks our receipts and silently ushers Ally and I through to the second turnstile. Just beyond we could see a big glass window opening up to a lavish swimming pool with ornate tiling, marblework, and turqoise water sparkling under the sunlight. We approach the turnstile and Ally and I exchanged confused looks.
"What do we do?" I ask.
"Hm. I don't know. Something with the watch, I suppose," says Ally.
Mike, Paul, and Costas have now come up behind us to use the same entrance. We all stand around looking confused and inspecting the turnstile. An older man standing in a cushy white robe on the other side of the turnstiles steps over,
"You just put the watch against that pad there," he says in a British accent.
Lo and behold there was a little sensor pad to the left of the turnstile with a picture of a watch on it. I held up the face of my plastic watch to the sensor and the green light flashes and through the turnstile I go.
"Just follow the stairs down, take the long corridor, and then up, up, and up and you'll get to the spa," added the
British man in the robe.
"Lovely, thank you!" we say as we our way through the high tech turnstile and down the stairs.
We wander through a long underground corridor, tiled with white and light blues and scones lighting the shiny walls. Up, up, and up we went- at the top of the stairs was a small desk to the right, manned by an older women sitting comfortably in a collapsable chair. Straight ahead is another corridor of orange doors, each numbered.
Immediately to the right is a desk with a sign for coat check and beyond it a set of stairs that continue wrapping around. The five of us look around confused with no clear sign of where we need to go next. Ally and I had our massage in 10minutes and had no idea where we were going. People move around us- men and women in robes, speedos and bikinis- the sound of flip flops shuffling by.
The woman points Ally and I down the long hallway and says "stairs." We bustle off looking for stairs.
We pass two sets of stairs with signs in Hungarian on the walls. Hm. We go a bit further and see a second stairwell, with a similar sign in Hungarian mounted, but taped below it was a paper sign saying,
"Women's Changing! Women Only!" with an arrow up the stairs.
We head up the short stairwell and open immediately above are benches and lockers and women changing left, right and centre. Hardly a separate changing area... Ally and I laughed to ourselves. We now realised why one could by a "changing cabin"- which were the numbered doors on the level below us.
The locker system was as high tech as the turnstiles- we flashed our watches to a central console and then used our "activated" watch to lock our locker by pressing it against a sensor on the locker of our choice. Neato. It had become clear that these watches were our pass to spa luxury.
It was now 15:25- and Ally and I were at a loss of where our massages would be happening. We made our way back down the main level hallway, sloshing on the wet tiles with bathers passing by in a steady stream. We showed our receipt to the woman at the stop of the stairs and she pointed us in the direction of a small open area beyond her.
It then opened up at the side of the massive, opulent swimming pool we had seen on our way in at the turnstiles. To the left, tucked behind a marble fountain, was a steamy thermal pool. To the right was the 25m swimming pool filled with all sorts of breast-stroking and back crawling swimmers adorning colourful and fluffy bathing caps. The room was awe-inspiring; truly ancient looking with no decorative expense spared.
Our instructions were to go beyond this main swimming pool, where at the far end we found a small door that led to the "women's thermal treatment rooms." We stepped through into what almost looked like an open-aired office from the 1970's, filled with numbered wooden cubicles. Each cube was craped with a curtain and had either a changing area or small treatment bed. Ally and I walked around to the main desk, receipts and watches in hand.
At a wooden desk sat three women dressed in white pressed dresses or jackets and trousers. A small woman with short blond curly hair and glasses comes around front to look at the receipts we were holding out. She reaches for my wrist and holds up my plastic watch to another watch sensor mounted on the front of the desk. It beeps and the little screen shows something in Hungarian- something that looked like "aroma massage."
The women exchange words in Hungarian. The small blonde woman pauses, and decisively says a number. She steps out beyond a row of cubicles and calls a name. Stepping out of a dark room at the end of the hall is another woman dressed in a crisp white shirt and trousers who waves her hand toward me as if to summon me. I guess that's where I'm headed.
I shuffle down the hallway, leaving Ally with the blonde woman to sort out where she was headed for her massage.
I step into a dark room with the massage table set diagaonal. The woman motions for me to lie down. I climb onto the bed, clad in bathing suit, and without a minute to spare the woman starts away with the massage. I could hear feet shuffling on carpet nearby. I glanced up quickly. Yup., the door was still wide open to the main cubicle area. As she started working on my lower back she lowered my bikini bottoms- far enough that were I not in such a relaxed spa-induced state, I might have been concerned with the fact that the door was wide open. I guess Hungarians don't do the whole "massage privacy" thing. That aside, this masseuse did a fantastic job and I was nearly asleep by the end of it. Which unto itself was a bit confusing...as we hadn't spoken a word to one another yet. So I wasn't really sure when she was done. Towards the end of the massage she said something in Hungarian which I thought to be "okay, we're done."
I slowly sat up to avoid a headrush.
She then scooped up my right arm and starting slathering away with the oils.
Nope, it's not over yet, I thought, she was doing my arms! Ohhhh good.
The massage went on for another 10minutes- and I was sitting up the whole time. I think maybe she wanted me to flip over... who knows... but it all worked out just fine. At the ACTUAL end of the massage, she revealed some of her English skills,
"Finish."
"Thank you!" I say, giving a big smile.
I leave the room and meet Ally back in the cubicle area.
"I walked by you after mine finished," Ally says, "And you were sitting up?!" she says, imitating my haed being flopped over, eyes closed, and arm stuck out for massaging.
"Yup... I think there was a miscommunication," I reply, "but boy do I feel good!"
We decide to check out the women's only thermal spa in the next room over. Through a tiled changing area we step into another high-ceiling, opulently tiled room with baths on either side at 36 and 38 degrees. We slip into the mineral-y warm water, all oiled up from the massages, and let out a deep sigh. Women of all shapes and sizes chat away in all sorts of languages. Some float by naked, some plant themselves on the stairs to share in deep conversations while their skin soaks up the mineral richness of the water.
On our way to the outdoor spas at Gellert baths, we pass Costas chatting away in the interior spa with a stranger.
He was sharing in lively conversation with a Norweigan man,
"His name was Harrold," Costas tells me, "He was 46 years old, and his whole family is engineers, but he decided to do finance. He told me travels a lot because of his job. He works for some sort of telecom company. He laughed when we told him about our flat tire."
We collected Costas from his engaging conversation and the three of us explored the outdoor pools. Stretching out through the centre of the main courtyard was a massive pool- one with "artificial waves" no less! A huge wave pool in the centre of Budapest! NEATO!
The sun was setting but I managed to get a few pictures with the last of the day's light- it was a magical area with glowing lights, turqoise waters, and flowing water pools. Beyond the pools you could see old Hungarian buildings, coloured in deep yellows and oranges reflecting the setting sun.
Tucked up near the trees was another thermal spa at 36 degrees. Sitting next to it was one of the hottest saunas I have ever set foot in. Strategically placed directly outside of the sauna was a wooden barrel dunk pool for cooling off after sweating out in the sauna. We enjoyed the warm pools, the hot dry sauna, and cold dunks. Visitors nattered away in English, French, Russian, German, Spanish... it was clearly a hot visitors spot, but by 19:30 on a weekday we were enjoying a relatively quiet spa experience.
After three hours of massages and thermal spas we were getting good and pruny and left the Gellert spa feeling spongy and incredibly relaxed. The 30minute walk home showed us more of the city's great lights- including a stop on the Elizabeth Bridge.
We were sapped of energy and waterlogged, so decided to enjoy a quiet dinner of thin crust pizza on an outdoor patio with live music. We picked up a few snacks from a local shop on our way back to the hostel, enjoying the warm night air. Nothing beats a good piece of fruit first thing in the morning, so I picked up a banana for the following day.
Upon returning to the hostel I set the banana down and bumbled off to have a quick shower before bed. I came back into the room and couldn't see the banana. In the interest of keeping my story telling as balanced as possible, I'll indulge by describing how I spect the next 20minutes searching high and low for this damn banana.
When living out of bag, one must maintain a fairly good sense of where your things are. New acquisitions are always tough because they don't necessarily have an immediate designated spot. The banana was certainly one of this items. Ally and Costas kindly hopped out of bed to help search for the banana. We didn't have much stuff in there, and the room certainly wasn't gigantic.
"Is it on your shelf?" Ally asks, referring to the little shelf mounted next to each bunk bed.
"Nope," I say, as we both bend over to double check the shelf.
We look a bit longer before I sit down on my bed in frustration and disbelief.
"You can have my banana," says Ally.
"That's kind, thank you, but I don't want the banana now. I just want to know where the heck it is!"
I sit back against the wall of my bed.
"Oh my goodness!" I say, "It's on the damn shelf!!!" I cry out. It was hidden in the shadows of the shelf. The damn banana.
**I'm posting from Slovenia...with a poor internet connection...so more Budapest photos will come next time around.**
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