For many different reasons, Budapest was a special trip and one of my happiest memories to date. Initially, I booked a ticket to Budapest as an escape from my scumbag Airbnb host in Krakow (dirty mattress on the floor included). If it was an escape I was looking for, it was an escape I got! I cherished every moment of before heading back to hell (I mean, my scumbag Airbnb host).
This pedestrian friendly city is surprisingly hipster, stuffed with impressive architecture, has an amazing night life, is vegetarian friendly, and is not so bad to look at!
While in Budapest, I climbed a bridge, found my way to historically significant areas, and went to a cat cafe which is notable because it was a cat cafe!
There was one part of Budapest that, unfortunately, I have not been able to stop thinking about and that is Kempinski Hotel Cornivus, Budapest. I say unfortunate because I was spoiled rotten to the point that sitting in my apartment writing this makes me feel like I’m sheltered inside a cardboard box in the middle of a sideways rain storm. The word luxurious almost describes the feeling of that hotel.
Arriving at the hotel was a little overwhelming. There I was, likely wearing the same shorts I’d been wearing for days, messy bun piled on the top of my head, waving hello with my bright shiny forehead, when a man with coat tails politely asks to carry my bag for me.
There is no possible way of walking into a hotel room with big fluffy pillows, a robe, and your own pair of slippers, and not feeling like you belong.
This was home now. After a few tweets and excited Snap Chats, my friend sent me a message.
You’re staying at KEMPINSKI?
Yes, girl, and I still have the slippers to prove it.
Here are the three best things about staying at Kempinski Budapest:
Location, location, location. Kempinski Cornivus is in the heart of downtown. Just minutes to the river, a few more minutes to Freedom Bridge, and not too many minutes to either Szechényi or Gellért Spa. Not specific enough? I walk everywhere, so I don’t know exactly how many minutes but walkable is walkable.
Breakfast and Dinner
Oh sweet heavenly jam cakes. The breakfast alone is worth the price of a room, I kid you not. I went to bed with butterflies every night knowing that the most extravagant and delicious spread of food would be waiting for me in the morning. There was a fruit section, a fresh juice section, a bread section, a yogurt section, and, oh help me, there was a pastry section.
Aside from the daily breakfast I enjoyed, there are plenty of food and drink options in the hotel. Your options are The Living Room, Blue Fox The Bar, ÉS Bisztró (where I did most of my dining), ÉS Deli, and Nobu.
Here’s a tip for dinner: drink palinka. I’m still rather confused about where Hungary went wrong with beer. It’s not good. Palinka, on the other hand, will burn your eyeballs all the way down your throat in the most beautiful way (that’s a good thing).
Here’s how my spa session went. This may not be for the faint of heart (meaning the prudes).
I opted for the Hungary Holistic treatment. The healing properties of the Hungary mud help to relieve arthritic joint pains and is helpful for sports injuries and circulation. The session began with a skin brush which is surprisingly refreshing and not at all as painful as I anticipated. Next came the the mud.
Have you ever watched Dexter?
I mean this in the least creepy way possible but I totally felt like I was in Dexter’s kill room. I don’t mean I felt like the woman who was doing my treatment was going to kill me; she was lovely. But after getting mud rubbed on your entire body (and I mean entire body which is where, being a prude myself, I had to fight the urge to grab a towel and run – she did a great job of making me feel comfortable) and being covered in a plastic sheet… it kind of felt like Dexter’s kill room.
Clearly, I wasn’t too worried about my life or nakedness because the next thing I knew, I was being gently woken up by a face massage. I had been asleep for nearly 20 minutes! Who knew that one of the most luxurious experiences in my life would involve disposable muddy underwear.
I’m going to use the word unfortunate again. It’s unfortunate that I don’t live at Kempinski. It’s unfortunate that a man with coat tails doesn’t greet me at my door every day and carry my bags. It’s unfortunate that I had cream of wheat this morning instead of a spread of cakes and jams. It’s unfortunate that these days if I get naked, cover myself in mud, and lay under a sheet of plastic, it would be considered disturbing instead of luxurious.
It is fortunate, however, that I have pictures and memories of this beautiful place and the slippers to prove that it wasn’t all a dream.