budapest balanced that tough grittiness that gets under your fingernails with byzantine, baroque architecture that cornices & buttresses into spiraling spires. it was as thick & dense as rye bread. it was not overly ornate; it was at once decrepit & regal. we went to two different baths, both outdoor & in. old men were turning into prunes, ever stoic, while playing chess in the steaming bath; i watched them from underneath the fountain & lost patience with it before they did.
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