IF YOU want a bath with a difference, take British Airways 870 to Budapest. The lovely Hungarian capital astride the Danube has a dozen bath-houses capitalising on the hot springs which gush and bubble constantly under this most congenial of eastern European countries.
Landlocked Hungary. in the Carpathian basin, lies on top of a network of artesian wells. The waters from these contain a natural cocktail of health-giving minerals. Hungary was the bath-house of the Hapsburg dynasty when Budapest was the twin capital, with Vienna, of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Today the empire is gone but the florid architecture remains, as do the baths housed in many of the city's most interesting buildings.
It is ironic that a country in which many of the inhabitants rarely see the sea is famous for its healthy waters. The most famous of Budapest's baths is the Gellert, on the Buda bank of the Danube at the end of the Szabadsag Bridge. UTV viewers recently saw Judith Chalmers of Wish You Were Here darting around in her bathrobe between the Gellert's various treatment rooms. This must be yet another example of what any embittered print hack will tell you: TV people always get preferential treatment.
For the day I honoured the Gellert with a visit all the massage bookings were long gone. You have to get up early in the morning to make sure your flesh is pounded by a suitably masochistic Hungarian in the seedily attractive surroundings of the Gellert. So for us, the pools had to suffice, while others went off for mud-baths and the exotic import of Thai massage.
The Gellert has a network of outdoor swimming pools, which were just opening for the usually reliable Hungarian summer when I was there at the beginning of May. Indoors there is one small warm pool where people loll around like warm-water whales, and a larger swimming pool which is much cooler, but very pleasant as a contrast. Stone dolphins and lions at strategic points around both pools spew forth refreshing gouts of water. (I know there must be a more alluring way of describing the effect but you probably get the idea).
THE baths don't look all that clean but I am assured the effect is only life-enhancing. And the modern wonder of the Fussenspruher, which I had only seen before in my gym in Dublin, was there to spray sloshy feet with antiseptic in the ongoing war of humanity versus tinea. Another health measure is the strict rule that everyone, from Franz Josef to Fred Jones, must wear a blue, plastic, shower cap over his or her hair. Have you ever noticed that nobody looks attractive in a plastic shower cap? Perhaps Julia Roberts could manage; I don't think Ralph Fiennes would be up to much en douche. Anyway, take my word for it, at the Gellert nobody looks good. Distinguishing features, be they good or bad, disappear under the great leveller of the plastic shower cap; big-hair girls need not apply.
My companion was delighted to find, under the blue bathing-cap next to her as we enjoyed the lion-fountain, an executive with a multinational based in Budapest, with whom she has regular business conferences. My, what a hairy chest you have, Colin!
After emerging all fresh from the embarrassment of the baths, the logical step is to take some refreshment, perhaps a forrocs, or white wine and soda, at the hotel which is attached to the baths. The Gellert has a lovely terrace directly over the Danube and across the road from a church carved out of a cave, which itself has a fascinating history.
Known illustratively as the Church in the Rock, this troglodytic place of worship was the home-ground of an order of monks founded by a Hungarian holy man by the name of Ozsib (Eusebius in Latin) in the 13th century. Ozsib renamed himself Paul, after the first genuine Christian hermit and, with perhaps a loose appreciation of the term, collected a herd of hermits and founded the order of White Monks who had an influential role in Hungarian history. Their role was not, alas, sufficiently influential to avoid the ravages of the Turks who occupied Hungary and, several centuries later, the communists. It was under the latter that the church in the rock was walled up but, after the return of democracy in 1990, the walls were symbolically smashed. The order of St Paul was revived in 1994 and now has 13 members, none of whom were on view in the church - off practising hermitic skills perhaps.
Budapest has a number of lovely churches, mostly dating from the 18th and 19th centuries including the darkly beautiful Church of Matthias, which is actually dedicated to the Madonna but is known commonly by the name of the king who was ruling when it was built. But if places of corporeal rather than spiritual refreshment are more in your line, the choice is also good.
The New York Cafe on Terez Boulevard might not look very promising from the outside just now (corroded and obscured by scaffolding) but inside it looks quite a suitable place to spend the rest of your life, given congenial company. The ceilings are high, the wood paneling is splendid, the conversation is comforting but not intrusive and you can get Just about anything to drink. The waitress, wearing the white boots which I was told are standard issue for Budapest bar staff, did not recommend the cold coffee with Tia Maria but provided a hot alternative of extreme deliciousness.
For yuppie Budapestians, the bar at the Kempinski hotel is discreet and expensive enough to please the likes of Madonna, whose entourage stayed there during the filming of Evito. (Local gossip has it that the only actor who didn't stay at the same hotel was Antonio Banderas, whose partner Melanie Griffith refused to let him sleep under the same roof as the unshy Ms Ciccone).
Eating out is a robust affair in Hungary. One shudders to think what would ever happen if mad cow disease or any other type of quadruped disease took hold there, for the Hungarians love their meat, chunky and plentiful. The star turn is Gundel's, over near Freedom Square, where only a few years ago a superb gourmet meal could be had for a tenner. Those days are gone and not only are the prices there much more like London than the rest of Budapest but it is also nearly impossible to get in. I went to a restaurant called Kacsa (Duck) on the Pest side of the river, where, surprise, the main menu star is duck a la Hungarian. The service was excellent, the violinist could actually play very well and the menu also offered Robber Meat on Toasting Prick" - possibly a regional variation of souvlaki.
GETTING THERE:
YOU can't fly direct to Budapest from Dublin. The alternatives are BA or Malev, the Hungarian airline, ex London. The lowest-priced returns are around £180 and there is the fare from Dublin on top of that. On arrival, though, you will probably find that the punt goes quite far if you don't shop in the main tourist drag and especially when you get even a little way out of central Budapest, where things can be very cheap.
The Hungarian currency, the forint, is around 220 to the punt. Unfortunately for the Hungarians, their currency has weakened by about a third in the past two years and few of the locals can afford a meal at Gundel's.