The king o’ drinks as I conceive it,
Talisker, Isla or Glenlivet
Robert Louis Stevenson, The Scotsman’s Return from Abroad, 1880

So wrote the famed Scottish novelist upon his return from living in America, where apparently he had a rough go feeling at home and absolutely could not stand the taste of Bourbon and longed for the strong stuff of his native Scotland. Whether you’re a fan of Stateside whiskey or not you certainly can’t blame Mr. Stevenson for feeling down in the dumps about living without access to his beloved Scotch.

Treasure Scotland

Located within the terribly touristic (if still incredibly scenic and evocative) Royal Mile is The Scotch Whisky Experience, offering a “sensational journey” taking folks through the “magical craft” of whisky making. Mere steps from the entrance to Edinburgh Castle and amidst too many souvenir shops, a gauntlet of street performers and a dense concentration of hotels and restaurants, a bit of inevitable cheese accompanies the experience.

Good ole Robert Louis may very well have been appalled. But for those uninitiated to the world of Scotch, a visit to Edinburgh’s Scotch Whisky Experience offers a thorough and well rounded introduction to Scotland’s most famous export along with plenty of tips for making the most of any wee dram.

Take a glass, any glass...

And of course afterwards the barrel riders are rewarded for their endurance with some actual whisky. A tasting session taking you through the characteristics of single malts from the different whisky producing regions of Scotland is conducted, followed by another tasting of your preferred Scotch based upon what you liked best in the tasting. Judging from Mr Stevenson’s quote above, he’d have been one for the smokier, more peaty stuff. But for those wanting something more mellow, floral or light, there’s a Scotch for you too. The tour’s final quaff takes place in the Diageo Claive Vidiz Scotch Whisky Collection room where the world’s largest collection of bottled whiskies (more than 3000) are on gorgeous display and frankly worth a visit alone.

Tasty line up

The Experience’s touristy setting means the Scotch Whisky Experience couldn’t be more convenient or easier to find. Booking your tour ahead of time is advisable but walk-ins are welcome. A post-castle visit or pre-dinner tipple (some of Edinburgh’s most renowned restaurants are well within walking distance) might be the best times to check out this attraction. There’s a well stocked shop (10% discounts with your tour ticket), an informative staff, a cafe and restaurant are all on site. And if the kitsch factor proves to be just too much for your liking, maybe you can just settle in back at one of Edinburgh’s cosy bars for a nightcap or two. And should anyone in your company make the mistake of ordering Malibu, you can always invoke Stevenson once more:

I have only one thing to say to you, sir … if you keep on drinking rum, the world will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!
RLS, Treasure Island.

Chris Osburn was a guest at the Scotch Whisky Experience. More info here: www.scotchwhiskyexperience.co.uk

Edinburgh’s Whisky Bars

WHISKI Bar & Restaurant
With 300 distillations to imbibe, and nearly as many awards for their services to the world of whisky, this place is your numero uno point of call for a spot of sampling. Those that refuse to get into the spirit of things can order Scottish craft beers or from the modern gastro menu.
119 High Street, The Royal Mile
www.whiskibar.co.uk

Albanach Edinburgh
A typical Scottish pub (check out those Tartan walls), the Albanach stocks over 100 varieties of whisky ranging from 3-30 quid for a nip. The knowledgeable staff are up for a chinwag and will help you make a selection. Fill up on mashed potatoe with whisky sauce!
197 High Street, Royal Mile

The Bow Bar
A great little bar that benefits from being off the Royal Mile, tucked away on West Bow street. 200 varieties of the good stuff, including not just the big brands but independent bottlers and single cask Scotch.
80 West Bow

For more bar options check out this website, and this one!

Whisky Distilleries in/around Edinburgh

Glenkinchie Distillery
Most of Scotland’s most famous distilleries are up in the highlands, making Glenkinchie, in East Lothian, the best option for most day trippers from Edinburgh. For 6 GBP you can tour the beautiful red-brick premises and then retire to the bar for a taste of this single malt, with a warm finish and a smoky spiciness. You can take the 44b ‘First bus’ to Pencaitland from Edinburgh city centre, then navigate a two mile walk – or take a taxi. Or alternatively taxi it all the way, as it’s just 19 miles away from Edinburgh. Call 01875 342012 for more info.

For more options check out Scotland Whiskey’s list of distilleries or Diageo’s Discovering Distilleries website.

Sculpture @ the sea

Sydney’s annual Sculpture by the Sea is billed as the world’s largest outdoor art event, and with 500,000 visitors each year it certainly ranks amongst the most popular too.

The biggest gallery of all...

Walking or jogging south from the famous Bondi Beach to neighbouring Tamarama is a fine thing to do at any time of year. Hundreds of sightseers and fitness fanatics do it every morning. It wouldn’t matter too much if the sculpture were second rate, but in fact it’s very good, showcasing the best of Australian and international work. The 2011 edition features Bert Flugelman, Sir Anthony Caro, Ken Unsworth and Chinese sculptors Chen Wen Ling and Wang Shugang.

Buddha bakes on Bondi beach

If you think modern art is too highbrow for you, this event could change your mind. Part of the appeal is that much of the sculpture doesn’t take itself too seriously. While competition to enter is fierce, and everything on display is likely to be extremely well executed, there are plenty of humorous works to make us smile.

Tapping into the natural environment

Best of all, there is no entrance fee, no dress code, no pressure to buy or even to make an intelligent comment on the art. If you hate a particular sculpture, you can stare out to sea as you walk right past it.

But believe me, you will want to look.

Sculpture by the Sea takes place in Sydney every November, as well as in Cottesloe, Perth, Australia, every March and, since 2009, every June in Aarhus, Denmark. For more info visit wikipedia or the official website.

Grape gathering near the Pyrenees

There are some disagreeable and slightly galling misconceptions about France and wine that need to be redressed. Number one: The likes of Nice, Cannes and Saint Tropez are not the only places to go in France for that southern French weather and lifestyle, dahling. Number two: Bordeaux is not the only region that produces good wine. (In fact, many wine commentators saythat Bordeaux winemakers have failed to embrace new techniques for years, relying on the Bordeaux name alone, and now face stiff competition from wine making regions across the world producing superior wines). Number three: Being a wine snob is not a pre-requisite for enjoying wine tasting. Shock horror.

“When it comes to wine, I tell people to throw away the vintage charts and invest in a corkscrew. The best way to learn about wine is the drinking.” Alexis Lichine.

It was with these important pointers in mind that I left a grey and rainy London this autumn and arrived in an oh-so-sunny Languedoc-Roussillon, intent on finding out just how far an amateur wino can take a wine obsession in a region that has around 740,000 acres of vineyards (three times the amount in Bordeaux) and an average of 300 days of sun per year.

“Wine makes daily living easier, less hurried, with fewer tensions and more tolerance.” Benjamin Franklin.

Bottled goodness

It was thirty minutes to the dot that I was off the plane at Carcassonne and standing in the grand Château de Pennautiersupping wines to the backdrop of family portraits from the ten generations of the Pennautier family who have lived there. This was the life. Despite my un-attuned mouth and inferior wine intelligence, the wines tasted a bit of alright. The importance to the vines of the limestone and clay terroir, the altitudes of between 700 and 1000 feet above sea level and the Mediterranean heat, would only become clear a few tastings in, but for now I was content with believing what I was told. Most importantly, there was no hint of condescension or superiority, marking a poignant thumbs up for the first foray of the un-initiated into the wine tasting world.

“Wine makes a man more pleased with himself; I do not say it makes him more pleasing to others.” Samuel Johnson.

With another 35 or so vintages to taste in three days before a reliable conclusion could be made by this wine neophyte, it was time to move on. Basking in the sunshine all the way to another Château near the coast outside of Narbonne, I was raring to go for the next round. This was fortuitous, as Château l’Hospitalet (owned by the French rugby player Gerard Bertrand) had six wines lined up for a pre-dinner tasting. Followed by another handful to be served with dinner. Cripes.

It turns out I was in for quite a treat as my tentative learnings from earlier in the day started to kick in. Bertrand’s vineyards cover hundreds of acres and six sites in the surrounding area, one of which is at the striking Château l’Hospitalet, where you can also spend the night as I did (if you’re a wannabe wino on a mission then sleeping in a location enclosed by vines is a necessity). Should you wonder about a rugby player’s ability to make fine wines, a tasting at Château l’Hospitalet will halt those suspicions instantly. Even I could tell the wines were fairly outstanding, which is apparently due in part to the inimitable combination of limestone soils, dry climate and several cross winds. It’s no wonder they export 12 million bottles to 65 countries. Non wine snobs say that good wine is the wine you like, and I was heartened to find that my senses were becoming more sophisticated when tallying my favourites. Bertrand’s Domaine Cigalus practices biodynamic techniques and the rouge is especially captivating; yes, I could actually pick up on the blackcurrant notes and spicy kick (following some expert swilling). The outright winner had to be La Forge – the red from Domaine de Villemajou and the location of Bertrand’s family home. A blend of Syrah and Carignan, the minerals, fruit and earthiness make the wine radiant.

Juicy fruits

Was this me talking? While I had stumbled upon both the best wine of the trip and some wino lingo very early on, I made a mental check to consult Leonard S. Bernstein’s Official Guide to Wine Snobberyas soon as humanly possible to avoid become one of those braggarts I had already decided to loathe.

“Penicillin cures, but wine makes people happy.” Alexander Fleming.

After some larking about in Bertrand’s vines to get the ubiquitous grape photos, it was time to hit the road once more to visit the third Château of the trip, Château Capitoul. Time was running out if my tasting targets were going to be met, so it was time to stop the sultry swilling and get down to business. Luckily the pair who run this outfit are ex-naval officers and run their portfolio of vineyards like a ship. Dispelling any formalities, CEO Xavi-Luc shipped us straight out to watch the harvest come in – a process of industrial magnitude involving all manner of giant grape separating machines. “Do you want to try some wine that’s still fermenting?” Xavi-Luc asks. “It’s not quite wine yet, but it’s not juice either.” Of course, we were with military types. Why drink wine from a bottle when you can drink it from a Marshmallow Man sized stainless steel tank? I gratefully accepted, realising the privileged opportunity for a wino on a mission. The usual rigmarole of swilling, nosing and glugging back a mouthful followed. Grape juice with a bit of acid was the lasting effect. “Don’t forget to spit,” Xavi-Luc reminds. “It’s bad for you if you don’t!” About 30 seconds too late for me, and I subsequently spent the journey to the next vineyard contemplating what exactly “bad for you” really meant. Time to shirk Alexander Fleming and choose penicillin over wine? At least I was safe in the knowledge that I could purchase the real, finished Château Capitoul product from a glut of global supermarkets back in the UK. Phew.

“Wine is the most civilised thing in the world.” Ernest Hemingway.

You reap what you sow

Next stop: AOC Domaine de la Tour Vielle in the infamously arty Collioure, where the elegant and relaxed proprietor Véronique Péroneille had a record seven wines lined up and eager to be drunk. Over in this Catalan region of France, with the Pyrenees and the Spanish border a stone’s throw away, the wines (I’m told) taste of the sea breeze and are the perfect complement to Catalan cooking. I can’t help thinking she’s onto something there as she talks us through glass after glass. “This is the perfect weather for drinking our wines,” Véronique explains, indicating the bright, mild day outside. “When it’s wet, grey and depressing weather, the wine is shy. It tastes totally different!” What a revelation to a rookie. But while these wines were sumptuous, it didn’t sound like they would enjoy the British weather too much…

From wines to Banyuls, the region’s typical sweet wine, Véronique sheds some light on the waning tradition to consume the drink. “Banyuls used to be served with cake every Sunday after mass, but these ways are changing and means that we’re drinking less and less Banyuls.” Véronique lets out a laugh. “We don’t go to mass anymore, we don’t have families nearby anymore, and we don’t eat cake anymore!” That said, the Banyuls trend might be set for a bit of an upturn if more people knew about the Vin de Méditation (also the most expensive of Domaine la Tour Vieille’s range at 50 Euros for a 50cl bottle). It includes a wine base from 1952 and has a deep, woody taste that keeps on coming. The clue’s in the name, you can imagine nothing better than drinking it while watching out over the vineyards spilling out towards the ocean. Now that’s more than civilised.

“A meal without wine is like a life without love.” Anonymous.

Bottom of the barrel accommodation

And so, from meditating with natives to elaborating with expats, I moved on to the penultimate winery of my expedition. A Brit from Barnsley, Jonathan Hesford and his Kiwi wife Rachel Treloar, aren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty at their winery, Domain Treloar. Jonathan had his wake up call in life when he saw the Twin Towers destroyed from his office next door. He got qualified in all things wine in New Zealand before setting up shop in Trouillas. Describing himself as a “wine lover who makes wine, not a winemaker who likes wine,” Jonathan’s winery is as much about a couple with an inspirational view on life as it is about the wine. They’re not doing a bad job with the product either – producing up to 40,000 bottles every year and selling every last one; in the UK they can be found in the likes of Michelin star restaurants and Jamie Oliver’s establishments. Jonathan describes his winemaking as being like parenting: “You should let it go naturally as much as possible, but you have to step in every now and again to get things back on the right path.” Apparently he’s onto a winner with that one, and yet again, there’s no room for snobbery in this establishment. Jonathan urges wine tasting groups to ask as many questions as they like and not be embarrassed about how little knowledge they might have. Big tick from me then. If you choose just one Domaine Treloar wine then it has to be Taki, Maorifor ‘one’, which takes inspiration from Rachel’s heritage and by his own admission, is the wine that Jonathan puts the most effort into.

“Wine is life.” Petronius.

From Châteaus and inspiring winemakers to meditation, wine and shenanigans in countless vineyards, I’d had quite an initiation into wining in the Languedoc-Roussillon. But there was one box left to tick… sleeping in a winery. Bring on Riberach, an old co-operative winery that is now part-winery, part-hotel. You guessed it, the hotel rooms are in the old wine vats. Picture an old, industrial-sized structure, revamped to the tune of imposing architectural feature pieces and floor to ceiling windows with concrete vats as hotel rooms, designed to the highest spec. Oh, and an eco swimming pool complete with goldfish for good measure. If laying in the silence of a wine vat after a long three days of wine tasting isn’t the pièce de résistance of a wannabe wino’s Languedoc-Roussillon foray, then I don’t know what is.

If you’re thinking of conducting your own tasting tour then you’ll find plenty more useful information on the following websites:
www.sunfrance.com, www.audetourisme.com, www.tourisme-pyreneesorientales.com

The nearest ocean to Berlin is over 200km away — and North Sea beaches aren’t known for Caribbean weather and rum drinks. But Berliners pay no heed to obvious geographical stereotypes. Give them a stretch of water and truckloads of sand, mix in some beach chairs, reggae music and a ramshackle driftwood bar, and then garnish with some garish Hawaiian shirts and over-sized sunglasses, and you have the perfect contrast of a tropical beach environs amid a sprawling, concrete city. In fact, so many beach bars have sprung up in Berlin in the past few years that there is room to diversify. You can ‘hit the beach’ almost anywhere in Berlin: by the river, astride a canal or even high up on a rooftop. Hell, you can even drag your luggage directly from Berlin Hauptbahnhof (main train station) onto a beach bar a few metres away.

Better than the Bahamas

Why beach bars in a landlocked city? Is it the Berliner way of compensation for nine months of drab, dreary weather? Or is it a cheap ‘staycation’ alternative for the many student/artist/unemployed types who can’t afford actual beach holidays? My task isn’t to answer these burning philosophical questions. My job is to pack my bucket and spade, and enjoy a few drinks on some of the best stretches of sand in the city (and let me tell ya, brothers and sisters: I love my job).

My beachcomber day began at 3pm on a sunny Saturday in September, a few steps from Ostbahnhof train station in East Berlin. The station overlooks the River Spree and the East Side Gallery, a 1km section of the original Berliner Mauer (Berlin Wall), famous tourist landmark and concrete paint receptacle to the graffiti all-stars. If you cross the street from the station and go left on Mühlenstrasse, you will follow the wall and the tourists and no doubt hate yourself the next day. Instead, do as I did, and veer right into the hole in the wall with the word ‘YAAM’ spray-painted outside. As always in Berlin, the best things are poorly marked, with dodgy entries into half-verboten industrial spaces. This is the perfect place to begin your beach bar journey on the River Spree, which cuts through the East Berlin district of Friedrichshain and its Western sister, Kreuzberg.

A truly terrible Mr. T

YAAM (Stralauerplatz 35, www.yaam.de) stands for Youth African Art Market, though market is not the right word. It is a beach bar proper. Just let the nice man at the entrance check your backpack and break on through to the other side. Don’t worry, he’s not checking for weapons of mass destruction. It is his job to keep cheap-asses from smuggling their own beverages in to avoid buying drinks at the bar. You may hear the term ‘multi-kulti’ bantered about in regards to Berlin, but YAAM is the real deal. Jamaican grooves on the stereo, Jamaican and African beer at the bar. I’m informed by Max Weber, YAAM manager (and bearer of the same name as a famous German philosopher) that YAAM is not just another Berlin beach bar, but much more. It is a community centre for multi-cultural youth which hosts arts and crafts, sports and training and a myriad of other activities for young people. Right on cue, Max introduced me to a man who teaches children’s boxing on the premises.

“People in Berlin with kids who couldn’t go to parties came here,” Max explained. “So we have a place for families to eat and play during the day and music and parties at night.” Music varies from Jamaican reggae to African beats to American and European hip hop. The list of YAAM’s past musical performers is impressive, including such notables as Ice Cube and Grand Master Flash.

Kicking back at Kiki Blofeld

People were playing beach volleyball while children crawled on blankets to their nearby lunch. A group of English-speaking lads at the bar ordered loudly. One of them was (loosely) dressed as Mr. T. The obvious British Stag tour was content to guzzle their beer down by the concrete shore. One of them waxed poetic in pidgin German about the size and quality of a nearby girl’s breasts. Water lapped onto the stony embankment and couples in beach chairs basked in the sun with a view of abandoned factories looming large on the opposite shore.

Cross Over To The Kreuz

On the opposite side of the river to YAAM is the uberhip West Berlin district of Kreuzberg. This district is so punk rock, so cool, so wannabe anarchy that they even have a day of destruction each year on May 1st. They turn over cars, throw Molotov cocktails at cops and generally get their asses kicked in return. On this sunny September day I picked my way carefully down the Koepenickerstrasse which leads to the (predictably) poorly marked entrance of Kiki Blofeld beach bar (Köpenickerstrasse 48/49, www.kikiblofeld.de). Kiki Blofeld’s flagship is a former DDR police boat dock converted into a night club. This is closed during the day, but for 1 euro you can walk into the grounds. After being told that the first bar is nicht offen I headed to the second, only to be shocked at the uberexpensive cocktails (8-9 euros? Out of their friggin’ minds) and grabbed a beer instead.

Time to hit the pool

Trip the Licht Fandango

Part of the charm of the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg section of beach bars is the flea market feel. Most of the beach bars in this area started life as impromptu party zones which slowly morphed into beach bars. Cheap and shoddy skip furniture is propped against graffiti-ridden communist concrete. Stained and splintered shipping palettes are sculpted into beach furniture by Mohawk-sporting wood nymphs. And sometimes, just sometimes, a disco ball hangs over a sandy dance floor and a DJs fingers flick electric ambiance into the ears of swaying beach bums…

The author busily researching Deck 5

“Drink Jager-Energy!!!” the large, inebriated German shouted at me. I gave him my favourite thumbs-up-and-winking-grin move which deflects 90% of all drunken louts and leaned over the bar.There was in fact a machine which dispensed straight shots of Jagermeister. A thin, shirtless blur of tattoos moved between Jagermeister tap and Red Bull dispensary. They’re not just whistling Dixie at Licht Park (Light Park, Michaelkirchstraße 22-23). They go directly to the party jugular. At 6pm in the waning daylight, a dance party was in full effect. Well, more of a shambling, post-Friday-night-party-til-Saturday-afternoon dance-trance zombie-shuffle, to be precise. The scene of disco dancing, quivering arms and sliding feet struck the right balance on the fine line between pathetic and cool. The crowd was mostly 20-somethings with a smattering of 30s. I found the other middle-aged man in the crowd and asked him what he thought of Licht Park. “This place has the best looking girls of all the beach bars in Berlin,” said Paul. Well, there you have it, middle-aged dudes. Ooze on over and ogle away.

Paving Paradise and Putting Up a Parking Lot

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the gentrification problem. Berlin has more square footage of abandoned lots, disused factories and empty spaces than almost anywhere in Europe. However, the efforts of the creative communities of Berlin to rejuvenate and renovate these spaces face constant threat by investment bankers hovering for the leveraged buyouts. Kiki Blofeld is closing soon. I tried to get a word from the owner/manager, but he was just too damn busy retiring to speak to me. Perhaps he was one of the lucky ones who were merely bought out. YAAM is another story.

That's one hull of a pool

More Berlin Beach Bars…

Deck 5

Set on the lofty environs of the upper parking deck of Prenzlauer Berg’s shopping mall, you won’t be able to dip your toes in the water at Deck 5, but the views are a big draw, especially at sunset. White sofas, deckchairs and Balearic beats give it an Ibiza lounge bar vibe, although this might be disturbed if there’s a Bundesliga match to be screened.
Schönhauser Allee 80 (Arcaden)
www.freiluftrebellen.de/deck-5

Badeschiff

Arguably the closest you’ll get to imitating a summer holiday in Berlin, the main attraction of Badeschiff (German for ‘bathing ship’) is the 32 x 8m swimming pool converted from the hull of a cargo boat. This sanitary and warm (24 celsius) pool floats on the river Spree, so if kicking back with a Pina Colada isn’t enough for you, then grab your speedos and head on down. Open ’til midnight and, being a Berlin cultural project, there’s also the usual array of live music, DJs and events – plus of course grill and bar – to keep you busy.
Eichenstrasse 4
www.arena-berlin.de/badeschiff.aspx

Club der Visionaere

On a tiny canal on Schlesische Strasse this hip little joint has dispensed with that gritty yellow stuff that ruins an otherwise pleasant sunbathing session, providing instead a rather civilised wooden terrace for sinking a beer and enjoying a slice of pizza. Many however choose to go one step further, perching on floating decks and dangling their footsies into the water as they wave for waitress service. By night DJs spin underground sounds.
Am Flutgraben 2
www.clubdervisionaere.com

Strandbar Mitte

Possibly the most easily accessible of all of Berlin’s beach bars, if the idea of either baring your body or in any way trying to be cool frightens you, then consider this centrally located bar a gentle introduction to the scene. Situated right behind Museumsinsel, day-trippers can follow up a morning of culture with an afternoon dose of deckchair therapy and nod at the tourists floating by on their sightseeing cruises.
Monbijou Park
www.strandbar-mitte.de

The game heats up

“This is the place where Budapest comes to chill out,” Laszlo, a banker in Pest, tells me. “Many people come here to relax, but some come to do business deals, discuss politics, socialise, or meet members of the opposite sex – I even met my wife here!” he says with a glint in his eye. A visit to Budapest is not complete without a visit to one of its many marvelous bath houses. A leftover gift from the time of the Turkish occupation, most Budapestites today could not imagine life without baths, and they form a vital part of the social life of the city. From the neo-baroque masterpiece that is the Szechenyi complex in the outskirts of Pest to the more basic Turkish-style Kiraly Baths in Buda, there is something to suit everyone’s taste. There is even a world-famous club night in Rudas baths once a month now; the so-called ‘sparty’ that is Cinetrip has gained fame and notoriety in equal measures in recent months. I decided to investigate all that the five best baths in Budapest have to offer, braving sub-zero temperatures, flip-flop-wearing, moustachio-ed middle-aged men with pot bellies and more speedos than you could shake a towel at, in search of the perfect bath….

Szechenyi Baths

Szechenyi Baths, being the biggest and most popular baths in Budapest, are the first I made a bee-line for. Located out on the eastern fringes of the centre, close to Heroes’ Square and the City Zoo, this really is the ultimate bathing experience in the capital, and, arguably, Europe – it is the largest medicinal bath on the continent.

Neo-baroque beauty of a bath house

The first thing you notice about the Szechenyi baths is the stunning architecture. Neo-baroque, the pastel-yellow painted buildings were built in 1881, when they were known as the ‘Artesian Baths’; only completed in 1913, the sweeping colonnades and arches lend the whole complex a dignified, Habsburg feel which adds to the ambiance of the already relaxing baths. This is really a snapshot of Budapest society, and absolutely central to the city’s down time. Young, old, men, women, there are no social, sexual or age barriers here. “Guys even come here to play chess here,” continues Laszlo, whilst motioning to a group of older gentlemen, up to their necks in steaming water, intently staring at a game in progress. Once you leave the outdoor zone and step inside the regal building another world opens up; fifteen pools spread over several hundred square metres, countless steam rooms, saunas, freezing plunge pools… one sauna is 80 degrees Celsius – this is a sauna you want to visit sparingly. Only for the truly hardcore, I manage two minutes and then sprint out the door before my eyeballs burn, and leap into the freezing plunge pool instead. I spend a further few hours slipping contentedly from sauna to bath to steam room to plunge pool and the afternoon passes in a steamy haze of carefree relaxation and pleasant chat with friendly locals and tourists, before retiring to the bar to sip a pint of Szoproni beer, feeling as chilled out as I can remember feeling.

Bath Rating 10/10: A near-perfect bathing experience. Extremely social, fun and welcoming, it’s also the number one tourist choice.

Address: Allatkerti korut 11-14

Gellert Baths

On the opposite side of the Danube (as are all of the remaining baths), Gellert is probably the most well-known after Szechenyi. It is housed in an impressive art nouveau palace right by the river, down the hill from Citadella. It’s one of the prettiest baths in Budapest – where else can you swim below a stained-glass atrium?

Get the Gellert all to yourself

Ornately decorated with beautiful mosaic tiles and regal pillars supporting high arched ceilings and marble balconies, Gellert can certainly claim to offer the most aesthetic of bathing experiences in Budapest, and its legendary curative thermal waters that flow from Gellert hill just above attract young and old for a healthy dose of relaxation. Unlike Szechenyi, Gellert is a single-sex affair with mens’ and womens’ baths separate. I was treated to a rub-down and massage before embarking onto the pools. With the radio blaring Hungarian music, a monosyllabic, stern-looking guy got me to strip down and lie on a couch in a rather stark room. Twenty minutes of vigorous pummeling later, my back was left feeling a trifle sore, and I left wondering if it was worth the extra 15 Euros. Slightly maze-like, the Gellert Baths are not straightforward to navigate, and all of the sign-posting is in Hungarian; this might not be a problem if the staff were a bit more helpful, but unfortunately they aren’t, and none spoke any English. Still, I had a pleasant swim in the massive pool, looking ridiculous with a blue plastic bag on my head (swimming caps compulsory), before heading to the steam baths and thermal waters to wind down. With only two pools – 38 and 42 degrees Celsius respectively – and one steam room, it’s far smaller than Szechenyi, and it’s also a lot less crowded. Indeed, one old man of about 80 had the freedom of the place to stretch his legs, pacing endlessly up and down (I surmised as some part of a health programme), wearing only a small apron to hide his modesty. A far cry from the sexy daytime club vibe of Szechenyi, then, I thought as I headed out into the cool evening air and over the Danube to Pest for some refreshment and a bit more life.

Bath Rating 6/10: Good for people wanting a quiet bath experience in pleasant surrounds, and for health treatments. Bad for meeting anyone.

Address: Kelenhegyi út 4

Kiraly Baths

Kiraly, a bit further along the river and tucked away discreetly on a side-street, is a bit of an anomaly in the bath-culture of Budapest, in that it is not at all aimed at tourists, is a single-pool bath and has not been renovated. It’s the most Turkish in feel of all the baths in Budapest, and the oldest – built by Arslan, the Pasha of Buda, in 1565, it’s brickwork domes and arches take you back to Ottoman times.

Cruising on into the Kiraly

Mainly a men-only bath (though women are allowed on two days each week), this bath house does have a reputation for being a gay hang-out, and your enjoyment of it may very well come down to how relaxed you are in a room full of naked men who appear to be checking each other out. It wasn’t this that made me feel a bit deflated, but the peeling paintwork, smelly toilets and almost complete lack of atmosphere – as well as one or two ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ moments from slightly lascivious staff. “If you’re gay this is heaven,” Isztvan, a middle-aged guy here with his partner tells me. It is like a real Roman bath and people are very friendly with each other. And there aren’t so many tourists here, which is why we like it.” Which is fair enough – but I’d rather not be ogled by bald men with moustaches personally. Best advice – unless you are gay, choose a co-ed day here if you fancy checking out Kiraly’s faded Turkish charm.

Bath Rating 5/10: Not very good except for those who fancy a bit of cruising.

(UPDATE: Since this article was researched Kiraly has become a mixed baths on every day).

Address: Fo ut. 84

Lukacs Baths

A bit out of the way, tucked away in a quiet area at the north end of the Buda by the river, Lukacs is by far the most family-oriented bath house, and is a co-ed experience with a friendly and welcoming vibe. I had a fantastic foot and leg massage before doing the round of baths and pools – two heated outdoor swimming pools are augmented by six indoor thermal pools, ranging from 25 to 45 degrees.

Stairways to heaven

“We come here because it’s close to our home and we always meet our friends here,” Reka, an attractive young student tells me. “It’s relaxed and we know everyone here.” People come here to cure their colds in the chamomile steam bath, or wrap their bodies in mineral-rich mud in the skin-treatment room. Although not on a par with the elegant surrounds of Szechenyi or Gellert, Lukacs is smart, clean, modern and very pleasant – a nice family option.

Bath Rating 8/10: Best for families or couples, this is very decent if inconveniently located.

Address: Frankel Leó ut. 25-29.

Rudas Baths

Not only one of the city’s most mystical Turkish-style baths, Rudas is home to the monthly Cinetrip ‘sparty’ – that’s a party in a spa. Deciding to leave this till my last night in Budapest – it seemed fitting after a week of flitting in and out of bath houses that I’d spend my final Friday night out in one – I checked it out by day also.

Raving it up at the Rudas

The baths are similar in character to both Kiraly and Lukacs – similarly male-oriented to Kiraly but as clean and modern as Lukacs. However they took on a completely different aspect by night. The party was like nothing I had ever seen before: on entering, I was confronted by pounding techno, flashing lights, gyrating, bikini-clad bodies, fire-throwers, acrobats and DJs dressed in skimpy speedos and sunglasses. A night blurred by alcoholic excess in an environment which clubbing has rarely taken place before, this level of bacchanalian revelry has to be seen to be believed, and yet seems completely in keeping with Budapest, where liberal attitudes prevail. “People come from all over Europe for these nights – they happily pay the 30 Euro entrance because they know this does not exist anywhere else” says Tomek, a Polish hipster who is traveling back to Krakow on the 6am bus. “It only happens here”. I make my way home back over the Danube, bleary eyed, as the sun comes up, and think – he’s right. Where else, after all, could it happen?

Bath Rating: X-rated

Address: Döbrentei tér 9.

For more info and stories about the Hungarian capital visit Urban Travel Blog’s weekend guide to Budapest.