A German in Budapest. Part I

View from Buda Castle

Ask former East Germans about Hungary and most will tell you something that connects them to the country. The first link between the GDR and Hungary that may spring to mind today might be the Pan-European Picnic on the Austro-Hungarian border in 1989, a peace demonstration during which the Iron Curtain was temporarily lifted and hundreds of East Germans fled to the West. Older East Germans often associate Hungary with holiday memories. Hundreds of thousands of them sought out Lake Balaton, the largest lake in central Europe.

East German tourists at Lake Balaton in the 1960s. Img: IMAGO / C3 Pictures.

Since there was no currency union but vast economic divergence between the Eastern Bloc nations, there were strict caps on how much money one could exchange. For East Germans holidaying in Hungary this meant that there was never enough money to pay for hotels, food, drink and souvenirs.

What sounds pretty stressful is remembered with fond nostalgia by many: loading up the tiny Trabant cars with canned food, tents, mattresses and sleeping bags — so that one could eat and sleep for little or no money — before setting off on the long hot journey; or stuffing everything into huge aluminium-framed backpacks called ‘Kraxe’ before boarding one of the overcrowded trains headed south-east. But still, Hungary was a dream holiday destination for the masses: It was hot, different and also a place where one could spend time with West German relatives. 

I could go on about Hungarian bands, actors or authors that were popular in the GDR but this is supposed to be at least in part a travelogue, and you probably get the idea: Hungary is special to many East Germans.

Despite the afterglow of the Hungary fascination reaching into my youth in the 1990s through people’s stories and old holiday photos, I had somehow never made it there myself. I spent happy summer holidays in Bulgaria and have been to Poland and the Czech Republic many times, given their proximity to eastern Germany today, but Hungary had so far evaded me.

So when I received an invitation to visit the capital Budapest to speak about the GDR, I was as thrilled as you can imagine after the lengthy prelude to this article. Naturally, I said yes, and before I knew it, I sat on a plane from London, thinking of goulash and paprika.

As it turned out, the organisers of my event had booked a lovely hotel right in the middle of Budapest’s Castle Quarter, the oldest part of the city. I had intended to take a nap after arrival since I’d got up at some ungodly hour, but so much history around me was irresistible. I didn’t even unpack my bag and headed straight back out for a wander. 

The Castle Quater is compact. One splendidly restored historical building after another lines the quiet, beautiful streets. It’s designed to be defensible, surrounded by walls and situated high above the Danube. It’s where the Hungarian Kings had their castle.

Unfortunately for me, that also made it the prime spot for the Chinese president Xi Jinping to stay during his visit to Hungary, which coincided with mine. A large crowd of Chinese cheerleaders had already gathered in front of the spectacular Matthias Church, waving flags. Later on, more and more streets were closed off, making it increasingly difficult for me to get around – if also unusually quiet and devoid of tourists. 

I had read that the entire Buda area, i.e. the ancient historical capital of Hungary on the western side of the Danube, which only united with Pest on the eastern side in 1873, was sacked and burned by the Ottomans in the 16th century. The 150 years of Ottoman rule that followed left a deep mark on the city both physically and psychologically.

Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian Prime Minister, likes to invoke the Ottoman invasion and Hungary’s role in eventually pushing it back when he speaks about Muslim migration into Europe today. It is part of a long history of foreign rule that has made Hungarians fiercely independent with profound political implications today. Physically, Buda suffered enormous destruction but the Ottomans also left their architectural traces.

Motivated obviously only by historical interest rather than a desire to combine a work trip with some relaxation, I set about visiting one such place of Ottoman origin: the Rudas thermal baths. As I traipsed along the Danube in weather far warmer than I had expected, I wondered whether it had been such a great idea to immerse myself in hot, sulphurous water for a few hours, but I would have missed a treat. 

The baths were founded in the late 1500s under Ottoman rule. They now have many modern features such as a rooftop pool with lovely views over the Danube and Pest. But the old part remains as a splendid Turkish bath or Hammam.

I hadn’t done any research before I went, and it hadn’t even occurred to me that the baths might be single-sex. But apparently, between 1936 and quite recently, they were for men only. As it turned out, entry is now mixed but the Hammam itself is only mixed at weekends. On weekdays, it’s still male-only… apart from Tuesday, when I visited, and it’s just for women. I considered this good luck a sign that I was on the right track and entered this astonishing space.

Rudas Theromal Bath