The (Budapest) Spa That Was'nt so Relaxing

We crossed the Erzsebet (Elizabeth) Bridge to the Buda side of the Danube ready to experience one of Budapest's most famous attractions, The Gellert Baths. I remember the guide book mentioning that Gellert was the more touristy of the baths in Budapest. The grand foyer welcomed us, Built between 1912 and 1918 in the Art Nouveau style, the building was truly elegant and screamed "you're about to be pampered my friend." Brandon and I entered the spa, ready for massage, mineral baths and some relaxation.

As we were about to enter the men's spa, I realized I'd forgotten to put my camera in the locker, so Brandon went ahead while I dropped off the camera. I soon returned and entered the spa. I was directed by a man to grab one of the loin cloths and put it on. Hmmm...? I did and he directed me to the steam baths. He explained that I should begin in the first room and work my way to the last and that each room increased in temperature. I thought to myself, "does this guy work here?" I sat on one of the chairs. He sat in the chair opposite me. Hmmm...? At that instant it occurred to me that he probably did not work there. I decided to sit back and relax and ignore. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift... A few minuets later my instincts told me that something wasn't quite right. I quickly opened my eyes. The man was still there across from me, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. I did my best to relax again but soon got the feeling that something wasn't kosher. I opened my eyes and caught the perpetrator in the act of perpetrating, so to speak. "Uh yeah, nice dude", I said and bolted. Upon exiting I ran into Brandon who had just come from the massage room. "How was the massage?" When he hesitated for a moment I should've known. "Uh, good", he said. "How was the steam bath?" "Uh, good", I said.

When I entered the massage room and saw the large Hungarian man holding a hose with running mineral water in one had and pointing to massage table with the other, that should have been my second clue. The stainless steel table was cold and industrial, save for some cushy foam padding on top. I laid down and hoped for the best. I was guessing that the masseuse' name was Boris. He looked like a Boris, even though the name is of Russian origin. The thought of someone named Boris giving me a massage wasn't helping to relax me. The large Hungarian went to work, and I held on for dear life. My thoughts began to run wild. "What's he gonna do with that hose?, why the hell didn't we go to Thailand! don't the girls give you a happy ending there. Oh shit, I hope they don't give them here." Boris worked his magic, kneading the muscles in my back like cookie dough. I gripped the table like an abalone to an undersea rock. This was not f$&%ing relaxing at all. Boris finished his handy work. I got up and walked deliberately out of the room. Holy f@$#%ing crap what the hell was that?! This was supposed to be the touristy spa, not a circa '70's Castro bathhouse!

We walked outside to what was supposed to be a wave pool and ordered two beers. The waves were more like boat wakes, but we took a jaunt anyway, and did our best to body surf the ankle slappers. "What the f@#k just happened", I spouted. Brandon just laughed, almost like he was in on it. "I'm about twenty times more tense than before we got here", I told him. "How come you look so relaxed?" We drank our beers, laughed and made plans for our next trip... Pamplona, the Whisky Trail in the Scottish highlands or perhaps... Thailand.