Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The next morning we rise predictably late and return to the streets, this time wandering past the Houses of Parliament, an intricate structure that puts the English version to shame, with splendid red domes and white pillars and arches, all intricately carved and perched on the banks of the Danube. From there, after our obligatory doner kebab (we have thus far had one in every city in Europe), we head to the Szechenyi Baths, one of the true wonders of Budapest. There we meet the Ozzys, and under a cold white sky, we head into the intricate building with it's white and yellow walls. It is itself a splendid work of art, but within is something even more splendid. Four beautifully laid out turquoise pools sit in the center of the outdoor central courtyard, surrounded by beautiful architecture and exotic white marble statues. Vast amounts of steam billow off the boiling waters, which are naturally heated from a spring beneath the city and possessed of various medicinal qualities which have drawn the ailing wealthy from across Europe for centuries. We spend hours exploring this wonderland of fountains, powerful jets that give the ultimate neck massage, pools of various the temperatures, and a wonderful whirlpool that whips us madly around. It is equally luxurious and exuberant, and when we have "taken the waters" for about four hours and are utterly prune-fingered, we depart, and walk slowly down Andrassy avenue, back towards the hostel, utterly content, with flushed rosy cheeks and relaxed muscles and a wonderful mild sense of happiness. We talk happily with our newfound friends as we lead them back to Dos Gringos (our new hangout) and eat more giant burritos and nachos and quesadillas. That evening we stay in, playing cards and drinking wine that the Ozzys have brought from Rome. We stay up for hours talking and playing and making friends with other residents of the hostel, including two Dutch girls looking for a house in Budapest, a Nigerian guy living in Latvia, and a shy Chinese guy living in France. Hostels are wonderful places, we decide as we fall into deep sleep aided by the medicinal waters.
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