I woke up grouchy this morning. Nothing new, a daily phenomenon, I'm definitely not a morning person. However, out of necessity, I have been forced to ignore my natural rhythms since moving to Budapest. Oh, to sleep until ten a.m. and hit the sack at two a.m.
The reasons for my ill humor are both definable and not so much. Reason? Nem...sajnálom. I'm often fresh out of the stuff.
If I had my forint saved up, I would head, hovering black cloud and all, to the public baths at Virosliget (Hero's Square) and soak my cares, real and imagined, straight away.
I would forgo a bath in my own fairly spacious tub, grab the plush, sunny yellow towel I purchased on my maiden visit to Szechenyi, and hop the HEV to Batthyanny Ter, where I would catch the red line to Virosliget. At this point my mood might begin to lift in anticipation, or I might at least be distracted from the prevailing ill winds of thought.
The grand yellow building is enormous and private...you cannot see what is inside the compound from the outside, and as I first strolled along the grounds, headed for the entrance, I was filled with a calm anticipation as well as with a certain grave serenity that came with the knowledge that I was about to partake in a very important, quite ritualistic, aspect of Hungarian culture. The baths are not mere pools of varying temperature. These pools have healing properties, their minerals great for the muscles and bones, as well as anything else that might be ailing a body.
If I were again on my way to the baths, which, at 3000 forint (fifteen bucks) a person, could be considered a major splurge on my budget, I would remember to stay all day and use as much of the offered services as I could. As I enter the ornate foyer, I would immediately purchase on of the plush Turkish cotton robes that are sold there. Emerald green? Royal blue? Depends on my mood, which would now be rising at a steady incline.
Now, I am accustomed to bathing in hot pools completely naked, both men and women present. During my years in Montana, I took many a trip to the natural geothermal pools (hot pots) in nearby Idaho. Nothing sexual about this the nudity, it just seemed impractical and silly to wear a swimsuit in a hot pool hidden in the forest. The Szechenyi Baths offer coed pools as well as pools for men only and women only. I would stick to the coed situation, where swimsuits are mandatory (they even offer old, seventies era suits for rent if you arrive without one). The hottest pools are here.
After changing into my suit and leaving locker room, a stinky and humid chasm, where women of all shapes, sizes, and age mill around in various states of dress or undress, I would head for the main pool, towel and robe (and a few hundred forint to spend on refreshments). Hopefully there would be an empty table and bench close by, where I could keep an eye on my beloved robe, but, honestly, I think the sense of fellowship and well-being these pools induce is so strong, the chance of theft is diminished at least a little bit.
As I walk down the steps into paradise, my skin would enjoy a delightful prickle as a result of the cold air/hot water contrast. We all know that delightful feeling we get when we step into a hot bath after a chill. The first few minutes in the pool are the finest as the body warms up and the muscles relax. Perhaps I would do a couple of slow laps around the circumference of the pool, do some people watching, enjoy a bit of semi-weightlessness. There are plenty of interesting folks here in, blissed out, chatting casually, debating politely, embracing each other, playing chess.
After swimming around a bit, I would head for Leda and the Swan, who overlook the massage fountain, and enjoy a watery neck massage. A spot underneath this spout is precious. If a space becomes available, you'd better occupy it quickly, because there is surely someone else eyeballing it.
In which case, I would stay underneath Leda for as long as I could stand, then search for an open space along the edges of the pool...these are also a "hot" (pun intended) commodity, not easy to come by. Here, it is easy to sip your beer, engage in casual conversation, watch people float on by as well as keep an eye on your stuff. No one seems to budge from here once they have laid claim.
Assuming that I could not find such a space, I would instead leave the pool (it is recommended that you remain no longer than 20 minutes, but, who heeds such recommendations?), grab my belongings, and stroll over to the sauna/steam rotunda. Here is where some real bodily healing can take place.
Within this rotunda are three saunas and a steam room. I would hit the saunas first. I prefer the aromatherapy sauna, not as blistering as the regular sauna, and heady with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. The sinuses drain, energy builds, the mood lifts. After a few minutes, I would then walk over to the little cold pool and plunge into it...it may sound unpleasant, but it is so very invigorating. I would probably forego the UV sauna, just because it is not as hot. However, UV rays can be beneficial for skins suffering from psoriasis and small doses may help prevent skin cancer. I'd rather spend a few more minutes in the aromatherapy sauna myself. My last visit in the rotunda would be to the steam room. This proved to be an endurance test my first time, when I managed to stay put for about three minutes (which seemed and eternity), pores sweating, nose running the whole time. I would try again for three minutes then after leaving the room, plunge once more into the cold pool. The skin loves this...I was rosy- cheeked for days after.
The rotunda also features a pool that is body temperature...this way you can gradually build up your core temp after the cold plunge. The really hot pool is also within, but, it is very often so crowded that movement is nearly impossible.
So I'd head back to the pool outside to warm up again. Maybe I'd finally score an empty spot around the perimeter. If not, I'd simply swim around bit more, visit Leda again, hang out underneath her fountain away from the spout. I'd probably grab a refreshment or two, enjoy them wrapped in my new robe, then step back into the pool for the last time. Unless the company is stellar or I remember to pack a good book, I'd start to get bored and sleepy. Dragging myself out of the pool, now limp and completely relaxed, I'd head back to the locker room, dry myself, pack my treasures, get dressed and mosey on home, under the river, via metro. So close and yet so far.
I'd return home still flushed from the experience and I would be in a much better mood... relaxed yet pleasantly alert.
I have always loved being immersed in hot water, whether it is in the middle of the forest, in my own little bath tub, or in a big pool in Budapest. Once upon a time, a wise Englishman advised a friend, a stressed out bundle of nerves...."Good God, man, take a bath!" In times of trouble and personal disarray, I would advise the same to you, my dear friends and followers! x
