Day 23, Budapest: Bacterial Budapestian Bacchanalia, or, My Much-Needed Bath

Today is my day to be a tourist. I wake up wheneverish, strap on the ol' backpack, and head for the nearest, biggest thing I can see. In Budapest, that big thing happens to be a citadel carved into a mosquito-infested mountain. Good enough for me.

Maybe an old Habsburg hang-out? Who cares.

Next is a big monument of some kind. I don't really know what it's for; it could be little more than a big fancy skate park. I don't really care. Hungarian history means nothing to me.

Let us never forget when those one guys defeated those other guys! Long live Hungary!

I finally encounter precisely what I'm looking for: the famed Hungarian bath house. A bacterial bacchanal of flabby flesh, skimpy swimsuits and ambiguous aromas, the Hungarian bath house is a must see for anyone who enjoys hot water and the hideous human form.

A delightful little cesspool.

It's easy livin' here, and I'm lovin' it.

This may or may not apply to all Hungarian bath houses, but the one I visit has three distinct flavors of bath:

1) Mild: water temperature 60-65 degrees Fahrenheit. Perfect for swimming laps, erecting nipples, shrinking genitals.

2) Medium: water temperature 70-80 degrees Fahrenheit. Perfect for old ladies, microorganisms, bubble aficionados.

3) Caliente: water temperature 90+ degrees Fahrenheit. Perfect for killing off bacteria accumulated from previous two pools.

I conclude my touristy day with a sauna and a casual traipse back to the hostel. There's mid-90s excitement on the agenda for tonight, and I've got to practice my skankin'.

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