So due to some complications that I’m sure will be addressed eventually, not to mention how the day ended, this post is coming two days late. It covers July 11th.
Jessie is great at planning. I’m not. When putting this trip together, I essentially listed off places that I’d like to go, figured out an order, and arranged transportation. Jessie spent a lot of time thinking about fun activities to do in various places.
The night before, we had decided on a very specific schedule, which looked something like this:
8-10 am: Eat breakfast at nearby Briós Kavezo.
10-2 pm: Terror Museum
2-3 pm: Lunch at Great Market Hall
3-6 pm: National Art Museum
7-9 pm: Drinking wine on a boat
10-11pm: Write post
That is not what ended up happening. Instead, we slept in. We’re hard working travelers, on our feet for 10+ hours a day! We deserve some rest. Breakfast was skipped.
We made our way over to the Terror Museum, which promised to be a heartbreaking exhibit chronicling Hungary’s resolve while under the control of the Nazis and Soviets. However, it was a Monday. Monday means that no museums are open.
With our day’s schedule changed, we make our way to the first planned stop. The Great Market Hall is a beautiful giant building that looks almost like it was once a great train station. The basement and first floor house produce vendors selling meats, cheeses, paprikas, breads, and tourist kitsch. The second floor was what we had really come for: Hungarian Street Food
Lángos
Kolbice
Jessie and I split a few different food items. First, was Lángos, which is a fried dough traditionally with cheese and sour cream. It has since evolved into a more pizza like food, where you add whatever sounds good to you and your gut at the time. Next up was Kolbice, which is several sausages in a baked cone of bread. We doctored ours to have chili sauce, mustard, and sauerkraut. Not an easy thing to eat, and even more difficult to set down.
Reconfiguring our schedule, we decided that today was the day to visit the baths. Budapest is situated on top of a large number of hot springs. Some of the baths that are now in use date back to the Ottoman Empire. There were a lot to choose from, but we chose Király due to its relative proximity as well as allowing both men and women at the same time.
Király contains a series of pools of different sizes and temperatures, various sauna rooms, a steam room, jacuzzis, massage room, and a relaxing courtyard. Unable to read the directions on the wall, we were sure we were doing something wrong, or in the wrong order, but we enjoyed it all the same. The main pool was underneath a dome and was lit naturally by a series of small overhead windows. The water was from the hot springs and contained a list of different nutrients. I’m not entirely sure that I pulled the medicine from the water, but I definitely smelled like a hard boiled egg at the end.
We entered the steam room not entirely knowing what to expect. The air inside was very hot and damp. Breathing in through my nose scalded my sinuses. If I breathed through my mouth, I couldn’t feel the air move in and out. It took a second try to actually sit in the room for any real amount of time, but it was worth it for the plunge into the cold water bath just outside the door.
After the baths we went home to drop off some things, and then we made a quick dash to the convenience store. Knowing that we were about to have 7 glasses of wine, it may be a good idea to put some food in our collective bellies.
The wine boat ride was a bit silly. We were situated at a table with two Swiss men. They and their wives had been biking along the river for several days, stopping at various towns along the way. They were fun companions, the ideal wine snobs who thumbed their noses at all but 2 of the offerings. Clearly the unsophisticated Americans, Jessie and I happily drank what was served as the boat swam up and down the Danube.
There was a string trio that was fascinating me. They were clearly very skilled musicians, and were eager to play folk, gypsy, contemporary, or classical music, expecting a tip. They played excellently, but they were loud to the point where you couldn’t hear the people at your own table. The violinist would walk table to table, expecting requests, then tips, then for you to buy a CD. It was quite a racket they had going for them. It was like subway performers who don’t leave. 
The viola player played his viola sideways, using his prodigious girth as a shoulder rest of sorts. I’ll need to try this when I get back to the States.
The night ended shortly after. We made it home safely, and quickly fell asleep.
-Ray