Back in Autumn, we decided that it would be nice to spend New Year away for a few days, and after exploring city break bargains on the interwebs, settled on a great deal to Budapest. Four nights in a five-star hotel in the centre of Pest, including flights from Heathrow, came in under £900 for two of us.
We hadn’t realised just how much of a bargain this was until we reached our hotel, the Corinthia Grand Royal. Built in the late 19th Century and only recently renovated, it’s the very definition of tasteful, opulent luxury and glamour. It was situated 2 minutes walk from Oktagon, a busy crossroads of the city, and across the road from Lizst Ferenc Ter, a leafy pedestrian square of smart bars and restaurants. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in such an ideal location, in such a beautiful hotel that was frankly wasted on us! Normally my comfy but adequate room is situated a short metro ride away from whichever city centre we are in.
We arrived early evening on 30th, met our friend Tim who had decided to tag along, and just had enough time to cross to Ferenc Ter for a dinner of Chicken Doughnuts (yes, exactly like you’d imagine, with a sweet cranberry glaze – Krispy Kreme won’t be adding them to the menu) a drink in a bar with bad live Eric Clapton covers, and a glimpse of the stunning banks of the River Danube by night.
Our first full day started with a a long, lazy breakfast and a walk along and across the river to the Gellert Baths. These are stunning art nouveu Turkish baths, steeped in history. The hot baths are segregated, with pretty blue anyiqur tiling and mosaics. The pools are at 36 and 38 degrees and have strange turtle-based fountains pouring out hot water. The segregation means bathing suits are not required, though I kept my modesty. I wish the large old man had too. A mixed, and chilly, swimming pool set in a stunning pillared hall, joins the hot bath areas.
It’s clearly a very social Hungarian pastime, with all ages and walks of life enjoying the water.
Tim had been charged with finding dinner on New Year’s Eve, but had drawn blanks from his choices. It could have gone horribly wrong, but we sent him out at 6pm on 31st to arrange something -anything – and he came up trumps with a restaurant called Karma on our local square. The meal was one of the best I’ve ever had: goose liver ice cream with fig on a walnut biscuit, pheasant consommé with white truffle ravioli, roast pork and the three chocolate tart.
At 11.45 we walked 100 yards to Oktagon, clutching our small bottles of Hungarian Champagne, which is as good as it sounds. A dj was playing party tunes from a small stage and a drunk, but very good-natured crowd had taken over the street. The moment 2009 arrived was a wonderful cacophany of laughter, cheering, the pop of Penny’s glitter gun and fireworks being let off randomly in the street, bouncing off buildings and lamp-posts. Small street parties like this were happening all over the city and we could see and hear fireworks flashing around the horizon.
By New Year’s Day, a light covering of snow had added to the atmosphere of the city. We started our day with a sauna, jacuzzi and quick swim in our hotel’s elegant spa. We then went to St Stephen’s Basilica, a fine, imposing, handsome and breathtaking marble cathedral from the outside, inside it’s rather staid and gloomy, decorated with dark maroon and navy blue marble and more gilt than a Catholic swingers party.
The star attraction of the basilica is hidden in a chapel off to the right-hand side: the mummified right hand if St Stephen himself. The founder of the country, he died in 1080-something and became a saint shortly after, upon which he was exhumed and miraculously found to have a fully intact right arm. The arm toured Europe through the middle ages, was split in three, and the hand finally found it’s way home after the end if the war. On 20th August each year it’s paraded around the city – an event surely worth visiting for. This bona-fide holy relic resides in a casket, in a shadowy corner. The best spent quid of your life switched on the light for two whole minutes while you gasp in awe at the black, wizened digits.
Sadly, you cannot buy small plastic souvenir hands, pendants or china ornaments. But the second best spent quid of your life, popped into a machine outside, allows you to grind the holy image onto a squashed 5 forint coin.
In the afternoon we strolled through the government quarter, admiring the architecture and the impressive gothic-revival Parliament building, before rounding off the day with cake. Something for which the city is rightly famous.
That evening, Tim and I thought we’d explore some of the funkier and more underground bars, including one in a Metro subway. But despite having a dozen marked on a map, we found very few and those we did find were shut. Our light bar crawl therefore became a night-time stroll through some admittedly pretty streets, before ending up at the cafe bar near our hotel where we’d been having breakfast, with a raging thirst to quench.
On our final day we spent the morning wandering around the picturesque castle hill area of old Buda. Beautiful in itself, with the commanding domed National Gallery, pretty streets, and the ramparts of the fisherman’s monument, but the best part of the hill is the stunning views across the city: the parliament, chain bridge, the basilica, making up one of Europe’s finest cities.
Finally, we went up to city park to visit the outdoor thermal baths. While not as
grand and more downmarket than our previous spa, these are Budapest’s most popular baths, set in the courtyard of 19th century buildings. There are two hot pools, the cooler of which has massage bubble jets and a hugely entertaining rapids circuit where you can be swept along with 500 other people.
Lying in the 38 degree water, beneath deep blue evening skies and a crescent moon, with steam rising into the -5 degree air, was the perfect start to the New Year. Happy 2009!
