Naked in a Budapest Bathhouse. When wearing a penis apron is wearing…
By: Ash Jurberg
Tags: Sex, Travel, This Happened To Me, Culture, Humor

Naked in a Budapest Bathhouse

Where wearing a penis apron is wearing too much

Photo by Joachim Lesne on Unsplash

I had heard all about the therapeutic benefits of the many baths in Budapest. After walking the streets exploring this fascinating city for a few days, it was time to reward my aching legs and visit one.

Budapest rests on a network of warm thermal and cool mineral springs, and as a result there are many communal bathhouses, pools and spas. These are significant tourist attractions, but unlike many tourist traps around the world (most of which I have been sucked into visiting) they are also popular with locals.

I decided the Gellert Baths was the place to go. It had been likened to “having a soak in a cathedral”, and as I considered my body to be a temple — albeit one in ruins, it seemed like a perfect match. Upon walking inside the Art Nouveau building, I felt like I had stepped back in time. To the 1920s perhaps. The building seemed to ooze class and grandeur. I half expected to be greeted by a man in a tuxedo with a glass of champagne and a stiff British accent, saying “come this way, sir.”

Not finding any such character I headed to the entrance, purchased a ticket and went to the change rooms. Standing outside the changerooms was a man who had the physique of The Rock and the hair of Kim Kardashian.

“Wow, these baths do work!” I thought as I approached.

Such a chiselled physique and such luscious hair.

In exchange for my ticket, he handed me a small piece of cloth about the size of a handkerchief. At the end of this cloth was a string tie. Puzzled I took the handkerchief and went to changerooms.

There I saw men of all shapes and sizes. Almost all were naked. The few who weren’t had the handkerchiefs tied around their waists, like an apron for the penis. The aprons barely covered their fronts, and like a hospital gown left their backsides exposed. It was a bizarre sight. I felt I was in some strange club.

Had I accidentally stumbled into a different type of bath? I had heard stories of bathhouses dating back to Roman times. Was this some sort of free for all sex bathhouse? Where penis aprons are tossed into the middle, and the games begin?

I went back to the front, to check the sign and was met with a stern frown from Dwayne Kardashian and quickly scurried back inside. Looks like I would have to go through whatever lay ahead.

I like to think of myself as adventurous, and if Lonely Planet described this as one of the must-do activities in Budapest, I felt I should give it a go. Manoeuvring between the naked men like I was playing Frogger, I found a corner and began to disrobe. In one quick motion, I removed my underwear and quickly tied the little apron around my waist. It was marginally bigger than the fig leaf Adam wore in the Garden of Eden. That gave me a bit of confidence — maybe I was larger than the average Hungarian.

Or Dwayne had literally sized me up and given me an extra small apron.

With my penis apron in place, I headed out to the baths. The architecture and surrounds were stunning, but I was fixated on the occupants. Surveying the scene, I felt like I was the only rookie as most of the bathers appeared to be locals. I did notice that manscaping had yet to make its way to Budapest. I felt sorry for whoever had to unclog the drains at these baths each night.

Aside from one nervous tourist, everyone else seemed at ease. There were large groups of men chatting away, as if they were having a coffee. If they were wearing more clothes and not submerged in water, it could have been like any scene in a café.

Every so often, small groups would disappear into a dark room on the other side of the bath. Is this one of those special rooms I have heard about in sex clubs? I had always been inquisitive about those, but had never imagined a set up like this. After a few minutes, I realized I had been staring at these naked men for quite some time. I didn’t want to be accused of being a voyeur and risk the strong hands of Dwayne Kardashian around my neck — or worse my penis apron area — so made a dash into the 38-degree Celsius bath.

It was instantly soothing as I plunged in. Unfortunately my apron became transparent as soon as it was wet and thus pretty irrelevant. I guess that’s why so many chose to go naked. Making my way past naked men in serious political discussion, naked men playing chess — there were fixed chessboard in place around the bath — and naked men doing breaststroke I found a small corner of the bath under a fountain.

I was still nervous. What if one approached me and asked me to go to the special room. Or even worse — asked me to play chess? It is a rare thought for me, but I considered myself to be one of the better-looking men in the bath. Admittedly it was a low bar, but I was fresh meat. Surely in this Thermal Tinder, I would be quick to be swiped on.

I began sweating, due partly to the heat and partly due to nerves. What would my Trip Advisor review say?

The baths were great, the sex room, however, was a little unsettling. Three stars.

For a relaxing experience, this was far from relaxing. As I lay stiff — in all areas, bar one — a man approached. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties. Muscular and strong. Was he a bear? Maybe a polar bear as we were in the water? No, it was too warm. What bears hang out in water? Brown bears? As I was channelling my inner David Attenborough, he sidled up next to me.

He began pointing to the other side. To the special room. And presumably speaking something in Hungarian. Knowing the way males use pick up lines, it was probably just,

“hey.”

I sat in silence. Again he mumbled the Hungarian version of “hey,” and pointed to the other side.

I shook my head.

Once more, he said “Hungarian hey.”

I took a deep breath. This water-based bear wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

He grunted louder and once more pointed. Maybe he wanted me to lead the way. I guess my tiny frame and apparently XS penis apron gives off the submissive vibe.

Then I looked down. My penis apron was gone. I looked around, and it was drifting across the bath. That is what the man was pointing at. I had lost my penis apron.

With a massive sigh of relief, I thanked him and paddled across to retrieve it. It then struck me; my panic and anxiety was all misplaced. This was simply a place to relax. With renewed confidence, I got out of the bath and tossed my apron into a nearby bin.

I strutted back towards the bath, chest out, penis out. Proud. I swam back to my spot under the fountain. I laid back and took in my surroundings.

It did indeed feel like I was taking a soak in a cathedral. Well, a cathedral full of naked guys. The springs that supply the baths have been flowing for 2000 years, and over the years there has been royalty and aristocrats soaking in these waters. I could imagine the discussions that would have taken place here over history. Maybe a little sex on occasion, but far less than I had imagined.

Soon the warm thermal water started to work its healing magic on my weary legs, and I was feeling very relaxed.

I got an approving nod from the group opposite me- I was now one of them.

I was now truly a local. Naked and unafraid.

Footnote:

Ash Jurberg Tripadvisor Review for Gellert Baths

Fantastic experience. I shall visit naked bathhouses in every country I visit. Do make sure to check out the special room. Five stars