Steamed Up – The Ottomans in Budapest

Two things that make Budapest a destination with a difference are the coffee houses and the thermal baths. However, though the inventive Magyar can claim many things (Vitamin C, Rubik’s cube and the hydrogen bomb amongst others) as their idea, these two tourist attractions most associated with Budapest can both be attributed to the Ottoman Empire. 

However, if you were taught history in a Hungarian school, that’s probably not the way the Turks were depicted. "Decades of disinformation have told only negative aspects of the Ottoman occupation," said Victoria Hill, a dynamic American businesswoman who lives in Hungary and is determined to save the crumbling Turkish baths in Hungary’s capital and see them find their rightful place on the Unesco World Heritage list of outstanding natural and man-made treasures. 

Hill has formed the tentatively titled Friends of the Baths, a cultural group which will meet regularly for lectures and discussions on Ottoman culture and its previously neglected influence on Hungarian life 

"The widely-held belief that Hungary languished for a century and a half during the Ottoman occupation is simply not true," said Hill. There was a thriving economy in Buda during the time, primarily due to its position on the caravan route. 

 Buda, with its remaining architecture and thermal baths offers, a flashback to Ottoman times. Hill hopes that this small collection of living, breathing monuments will be preserved for the enjoyment and fascination of generations to come. 

 The first meeting of the Friends was held in the wine cellar of the Gundel restaurant. "It is difficult to get the Government or the city interested after more than 50 years of de-emphasised, dis-education about foreign cultures. However,from my experience I have found that Hungarians are always interested in their history," said Hill. "This is a part of the cultural heritage of Hungary that has been ignored or neglected." 

 At the initial meeting, Hill gave an overview of the Ottoman Empire which lasted from 1302 to 1924. "The Ottomans are very important to us in the West because they created forms of state administration; the ways in which they operated created the threads for democracy now," said Hill. 

 She illustrated her fascinating talk with slides showing maps, exquisite tiles and paintings which captured the moment as accurately as a camera. There were pictures from the preparation for a circumcision of Mehmed in 1582, when the celebration lasted 52 nights and 52 days, and wrestling performances and tightrope walking revealed in miniature books which acted as a newsreel of the time. A map of the Ottoman Empire at its height showed the rich trade routes and the extent of the power, north to Buda and Vienna, east to Persia and Georgia, south towards Saudi Arabia. Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent brought the Empire to its zenith. As the fourth Ottoman sultan, he presided over the most powerful state in the world, from 1520 to 1566. He was a cunning military strategist and more than doubled the territory inherited from his father. He built elegant mosques, baths, schools, fountains and gardens. Few people know that Süleyman the Magnificent died on Hungarian soil on the way to the attack on Vienna. 

Buda was once home to 26 mosques. Today only the baths remain from Buda’s imarets (inns or hospices). Situated from south to north along the Danube these are the Rudas, pictured right, Rác, Király, Lukács and Császár baths.

In addition to the baths there are two other Ottoman architectural relics that still exist in Buda: The Malomtó gunpowder mill and the Gül Baba Tomb. Only the outer structure of the earlier building at the Malomtó remains. The Gül Baba Tomb, however was completely renovated in 1962 and is preserved as a gift of the Turkish government. 

The first baths on the site of the Rudas date from the late 14th century. The exact date isn’t known, although renovation and expansion work was carried out in 1566. The new building was constructed by the Pasha of Buda in the 16th century and his plaque remains in the main chamber. The original cupola, vaulted corridor and main octagonal pool remain, although heavily restored. 

There are several reasons to believe that this work might have been carried out by Sinan, a Greek architect and contemporary of Michelangelo who designed 30 mosques and lived to the age of 99. He was a maths genius who revolutionized Muslim architecture and created incredible, huge domes. Sinan was the royal architect at the time when Süleyman the Magnificent died. 

The size of the Rudas cupola is unique. It is the largest in Europe and only two of its size exist in Turkey. The type of pillar used in the steam room of the Rudas matches Sinan’s style of work. He was also working on an aqueduct in Belgrade in 1565, only one year before the Rudas reconstruction, and it would have certainly been a much shorter trip to Buda than to travel back to Istanbul. During the 1500s, the Rudas also housed either a Tekke (lodge) or a zaviye (hostel for travellers) run by Dervish monks. Only the ground floor of the former three-story building remains. Bombing during the Second World War destroyed the upper two stories. There has never been sufficient funding to fully restore the building. 

 Hill estimates that between $8 and $15 million are needed to renovate the Rudas Baths. "It has not been touched since 1945 and is waiting for an investor like the Rác has found in Miklós Bornemisza’s Rác Nosztalgia Kft, who plan to enlarge the bath territory, build a hotel and restaurant complex and even create a chair lift leading from the Rác up to the top of Gellért Hill," said Hill. 

The Rác Baths were originally built during the time of King Mátyás. It is believed that an underground passageway connected the baths to the Royal Gardens in the southwest side of the Castle. Later in the 16th century, the Ottomans added the cupola that remains to this day.



 The Király Baths are in a small, beautiful building which possibly predates the work of Sinan. Prior to Sinan, domes or cupolas were placed on top of the outer walls of a building or on broad, squat pillars. Sinan introduced large, graceful cupolas that rested on narrow, towering pillars, but the Király reflects the former style. It has retained more of its original Turkish character than any of the other Buda baths. The Király is also unique because it does not have its own well. Water for the Király is carried via a larchwood conduit system from the Lukács wells. Construction of the Turkish part began in 1566 and was completed by Pasha Sokoli Mustapha in 1570. 

 "The Király Baths also need a great deal of work as it may be sinking on Fô utca. The small volume of water flowing into the Király Baths dictates that the number of customers will never make it profitable, neither is the Rudas. The city operates the Rudas at a loss. But the Pepsi bottling plant is a tenant so there is money flowing in. There is also a day hospital at the Rudas which provides another source of income," said Hill. 

The Császár Baths are among the oldest thermal baths in Buda, having been known in Roman times. In 1178, the Knights Templar of St John established a settlement at the site of the two baths. The Knights built a monastery, church, hospital and bath at each of the two sites. During the time of the Ottomans, the baths were extremely popular and renovated by Buda Pasha Sokollu Mustafa in 1571-72. 

The Rudas and Király are both national monuments. In 1987, the Cultural Ministry planned to register with the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS) proposing that the Turkish baths be proposed for inclusion on the World Heritage List. However, in 1989 the Cultural Ministry was split and the plan seems to have fallen by the wayside. 

Hill’s goal is to create a Friends of the Baths movement and show City Hall and the Government that a non-profit or charity organisation can help. 
 First published in The Budapest Sun, 21 March 2002

The Centrál Coffee House

I wrote this article on the wonderful coffee house more than ten years ago, however the historical details are still interesting, I think.

Renovation work is now beginning on the one-time Centrál Coffee House.
Work started on the reconstruction on June 29 and will continue for a year and a half, with completion date pegged in at July 15 1999.
Dr. Somody Imre, director Pharmavit Rt. bought the building and is financing the 1,100 million forint project through a private company, which he established specifically for the coffee house renovation.
When it opens its door again in October 1999, the building, which stands at the southern left hand corner of Ferenciek tere will have office buildings on the upper floors, while the ground floor will recreate the former glory of the famous coffee house.
Together with the renovation work on the Ybl Palota opposite, this will make Ferenciek tere, the square of the Fransiscans, an elegant place of learning once again.
The university library stands on one corner, the Ybl Palota and the Károlyi Mihály literary museum further down the road, when the Centrál Kávéház is ready, the only corner with not quite such a high-brow reputation will be the northeast nook, where the Bonnie and Clyde bar offers roulette and darts.
The Central opened in 1887, in the freshly-constructed house belonging to Lajos Ullmann Erényi.
It was the heir to the Philosophus Kávéház which had stood a few blocks away a few decades earlier.
“The lamps and the whole interior decoration, like the marble tables, sofas, billiard tables, the whole games room and the coffee kitchen, moreover even the cups and the pots are so beautiful that it is impossible to imagine anything more beautiful,” wrote a critic at the time.
The Centrál soon became the centre of intellectual life, although it was almost exclusively male scholars and writers who made the Centrál their local.
It was the place where József Kiss edited the Hét (‘Week’) weekly literary paper, for which many big names worked before the Nyugat (‘West’) paper was formed. All the 400 coffee houses of the capital had subscriptions to Hét.
Kiss also taught young writers the secrets of language, verse and writing.
Famous writers worked here in the Centrál around the so-called “big writers’ table” - among them Kálmán Mikszáth, Sándor Bródy, Gyula Krúdy, Andor Kozma, Zsigmond Justh and Zoltán Ambrus.
Even Endre Ady, who had different home-from-home cafe, the Három Holló (Three Ravens) (now the Goethe Institute) was known to frequent the Centrál.
In 1907, younger writers in the Hét group formed Nyugat and soon moved their headquarters to the New York coffee house, on the corner of Erzsébet körút and Dohány utca, near what is now called Blaha Lujza tér.
Then, in the twenties the Nyugat paper moved back from the New York coffee house headquarters to its birthplace in the Centrál coffee house.
From 1905, the Centrál was run by former bank offers Gyôzô Mészáros, who was also the head of the Budapest coffee house association and he, as a professional protected the high standard of the artistic institution for many decades.
The atmosphere was conducive to writing, as wafts of coffee brewing aromas occasionally reached the writers, who sat hunched over scraps of white paper, waiting for inspiration.
Cigar smoke spiralled up towards the chandeliers, mixing with the low mutterings of authors thinking out loud.
No business deals or loud noises disturbed the creative atmosphere.
Mészáros put the men of letters on a special gallery so that the ordinary citizens would also be able to witness the shining examples of intellectual life, literature, science and fine arts.
Loud words, disruption of order, or snobbishness were not tolerated in the Centrál, which was open day and night.
The coffee house was philanthropic in its actions as well as its principles.
Those in need were helped with credit, small loans besides the moderately priced coffee, peaceful surroundings, and the Hungarian and international press.
The First War World disrupted the clientele of the Centrál as many young writers were conscripted. Zuboly (Elemér Bántai) became the first casualty amongst the writing regulars in 1915, two years later the poet Géza Gyóni also lost his life. “The only remaining piece of Pest was the Centrál,” wrote Mihály Babits.
It was somewhat shaken by the fighting, some of the tables’ marble tops were split, the mirrors had grown hazy, the porcelain buttons on the armchair coverings also showed the marks of time.
On the wall was a memorial tablet to Zuboly, with a bronze relief, under which was engraved some lines of verse by his friend Ady.
During the twenties, the Nyugat once again had its special table in the Centrál. Babits’s Sons of Death novel gave a role to this much-loved place where, “through the nonsensical cafe house smoke, the aroma of delights of days gone by fluttered”. Coughing slightly, the ‘sad poet’ Árpád Tóth, scuttled in, his lungs ruined by the damp air of his rented room, the printing room and the smoke from his own and surrounding cigars.
Zsigmond Móricz would make his slow dignified procedure over to the Nyugat table, sit down, drink a coffee, light a cigar and hide himself away in his thoughts and a thick aromatic cloud.
The Nyugat editor took his place without a sound, while Frigyes Karinthy and Dezsô Kosztolányi blustered in more noisily.
Aurél Kárpáti, Ernô Szép and Ferenc Molnár and the whole editorial team would spend hours discussing topics.
And so life continued in this bastion of literary life, “In the Centrál, where along with many famous or now forgotten men I also rocked my cradle”. wrote János Kodolányi.
Other scholars frequented the Centrál with their books, librarians, museum curators, and university professors.
Artists also sipped coffee in the Centrál, although they did not have a particular separate circle of their own here. József Rippl-Rónai signed one of his paintings with the words, “I drew this in the Centrál Coffee House”.
Many men of letters worked here day in day out, and went to the Centrál as if it were their office.
After the Second World War, the Újhold (‘New Moon”) editorial was formed and operated in the Centrál.
Ágnes Nagy Nemes, Pilinszky, Balazs Lengyel, Mándy, Sándor Rákos and others worked here on Tuesday afternoons until late at night, preparing the paper and editing.
In 1950 the Paprika Centre National Company took over the premises.
This company, which built the little yellow underground, made the premises its culture centre and canteen.
Then, from 1967, it became the Eötvös club - the popular ELTE students' club, where groups like Omega entertained the college crowd and Zorán and the Metro band began their careers.
The old stippling on the walls remained virtually intact.
However, the chandeliers made in Vienna were smashed and pawned at the MÉH - recycling depot.
Then the premises became home for the Wizards amusement arcade with an unspectacular and less literary tenancy until recently when Dr. Imre Somody bought the building.
Now, it is hoped, a thriving literary life will return to the heart of Pest. “That special place has now disappeared, the place that was neither club, nor pub, neither an association nor a restaurant, neither a casino nor a presszó, but something more democratic than all of these - a coffee house,” wrote Dóra Pataky, the interior designer for the new Centrál.
The Centrál will again be a place where, “fascinating discussions will whirl on all topics by a company of people who will talk and argue late into the night on politics, art and ideologies while women decorate the scene with their beauty”.

Centrál Kávéház és étterem
1053 Budapest
Károlyi Mihály utca 9

Table reservations: (+36 1) 266 2110
info@centralkavehaz.hu
www.centralkavehaz.hu

The Death of the Presszó

Digital photos ©LucyMallows2007

The Death of the Presszó

By Lucy Mallows ©1997


The presszó or eszpresszó occupies a mysterious limbo link in the types of hostelries in Budapest.
It is a step up from the rough and ready borozó (wine bar, but nothing like a brasserie, this is a dingy, mouldy cellar where cheap rot gut wine is ladled from a metal drum for around 30 forints a shot) or sörözô (beer hall), haunts of men drinking on their own, alcoholics talking to themselves, where women on their own are considered of easy virtue or desperate for a drink.

The eszpresszó hovers between the borozó/sörözô and the more upmarket cukrászda - coffee house, where solitary readers sip a cappuccino; a group of tourists pore over their guide books and soak up the traditional atmosphere. or friends gather for a Sunday afternoon chat.

The eszpresszó is more the local of the working class, ladies in groups eating cakes, gangs of workmen playing dominoes and eating somlói galuska, chocolate and cream pudding with their beer and young teenagers enjoying a moderately priced cappuccino.

However the eszpresszó is an endangered species.
The Fény (Light) presszó on Margit körút has been gutted by workmen and is now a pawn brokers, trading in jewellery.
It used to have one of the first juke boxes in Buda.
One by one, they gradually close as the rent soars and the fast food chains buy up all the best-situated premises.
The style of the presszó is socialist brown.
Outside, there is almost always a neon sign offering such unique - and socially inspiring - names as Terv -the (five year) Plan, Béke –Peace, Haladás –Progress and even the incongruous but somehow strangely comforting Májas -Liver Sausage.

Inside a typical presszó, a washable stone floor is usually adorned with a crazy paving style mosaic or beige linoleum, net curtains, little yellow, brown and green tiling on the walls, fake red leather seats or little gnome stools.
The waitresses still wear the long, white lace up boots with cut away heels and toes.
These look strange but give much support during the long hours of standing.
The standing helps contribute to the attitude which is almost always one of disdain or lethargic surliness.
To be a proper old-style presszo, it must have the original neon squirly writing outside, with a few of the letters hanging off, or missing entirely.
Check out the Alkotás (Creation) or the Pingvin söröző on Bocskai út in the eleventh district.
If the cukrászda is the coffee house, the eszpresszó is more the coffee bar.
The eszpresszó is more homely, friendly, less imposing than the cukrászda whose tradition of writers, poets and now tourists frightens off the locals.
Budapest was once the city of eszpresszó bars. 
In 1937, the Quick in Vigadó utca was the first coffee bar to open; its premises was planned and created by interior and industrial designers. The building is an office now.
From the 1930’s one eszpresszó opened after another and by 1950 many new ones joined the already established café's: The Mocca, American, Parisien, Joker, Intim and the Darling.
After 1956, the social realist architecture began to wane and a younger, fresher generation of enthusiastic interior decorators was given a free hand in the planning of public catering.
Shops reduced to rubble during the uprising were rebuilt in the modern style.
There was a craze for neon, both inside and out.
The trend to use English names gradually died out, in neon lights above the new revolutionary eszpresszós displayed radical slogans - Plan, Prosperity and Spartacus.
The post war eszpresszós still exist, the 1950s style is harder to find.
The red and green neon lights are now fading, some switched off forever, the Traubi (grape) and Márka (cherry) soft drinks are hard to find, the Bambi pop has disappeared, the wheels of progress grind on.
At the Kisposta eszpresszó by Moszkva tér, Friday night is party night, an old guy plays the Casio organ, with built-in drum machine and customers dance when the mood takes them.
The waitress continually arranges the heavy greeny-grey swivel chairs and tells off customers who push them out of line.
The Kisposta is full of elderly couples enjoying the old time songs, singing along, looking wistful and drinking brandy. Romanian and Russian young men, workers from Moszkva tér spend their daily wage on beer.
I say to my companion, ‘I wish a handsome Russian man would ask me to dance,’ and two seconds later one does.
Alexei dances with almost everyone in the bar, even waltzing with a old lady from the cake-eating table.
Alas the Kisposta is now a savings bank, gone the way of so many wonderful presszós, disappearing faster than a Siberian tiger.
The very popular Bambi Eszpresszó on Frankel Leó utca’s semi-pedestrian streets serves ‘warm sandwiches’, omelettes, cakes and coffee.
Also on offer is ‘Soviet’ champagne for only 480 forints a bottle and.
Kadarka red wine, a bargain at 27 forints a deciliter.
The Bambi has one of the few interiors dating back to the sixties, that remain untouched, a fairy tale ceramic city adorns the walls.
Old men play dominoes on a Sunday afternoon, sitting on red leatherette seats.
The mosaic floor has geometric box shapes in yellow, green and brown. 
The Sziget cukrászda is a presszó and cukrászda in one.
It has a varying prices scheme for those who stand at the tables in the presszó part, marked pointedly ‘II osztály’ -second class or move through the heavy plum-colored velvet curtains into the more chi-chi inner sanctum.
At the Sziget you can taste one of the best chestnut purees in town - little brown worms of nutty sweetness covered in whipped cream. The waitresses keep up the aloof grumpiness, required for the job.
The Sziget is now the Europa Coffee House, an anal Austrian style upmarket cafe, with waitresses in push up bras and peasant outfits, a la Mozart (formerly the wonderful Palma on the Nagy Körút).
Nádor utca, the street of philanthropists and learning boasts two presszós.
The Terv Eszpresszó or (five year) Plan has been smartened up recently with white paint and shiny lamps, it almost has pretensions to being a cukrászda, were it not for the clientele, working men in pairs, drinking beer and spirits in the morning, and, of course, the linoleum is still beige and dog-eared. 
The Tulipán, belonging to the group of fifth district flower-christened presszós, the Ibolya (Violet) student favorite on Ferenciek tere and the Muskátli (Geranium) tourist trap on Váci utca.
The outside of the Tulipán is misleading, the white plastic chairs and navy umbrellas give a Mediterranean terrace café feel, but move inside and the back room has a stark, naked beauty.
The gnome high stools surround little mushroom tables and the walls have turned beige from Sopianae cigarette smoke. 
Outside the Mignon eszpresszó, a neon sign at night reveals a girl with a sixties bob about to nibble on a tasty morsel, a mini cabbage roll or one of those little pink cakes bought by the deka.
The eszpresszó occupies a space on that strange incongruous row of one story shops on Károly körút, that have surprisingly still survived the bulldozer of town-planning progress.
On a personal note, the Mignon was the first establishment I entered in Hungary in 1984, coming off the metro from Keleti palyaudvar to Deák tér.
A man sat in the corner playing a Casio organ and the atmosphere was like a wedding party in Transylvania.
Old bácsis danced with little girls, nénis danced together, everyone was off their heads on cheap wine and lethal pálinka. The air was almost impenetrable with the thick white fog of Munkás (worker) cigarettes.
It was heaven.
The Mignon is still very brown and gloomy even during the day. Gloom is important so that artists can compose and drinkers can drink in peace.
The only light comes from a fruit machine which flashes garishly where once the band played. 
The Majakovskij on Király utca has a huge Eszpresszó sign and placards in the windows offering coffee, cakes, soft drinks and ice cream. Enter the bar and you step back in time, two very brown rooms are decorated by pictures of alpine scenes and a five-pronged brown wood fan hangs immobile from the smoke-stained ceiling.
Bright red Christmas lights line the top of the bar and the radio plays ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale.’
Király utca was also called Majakovskij utca after the Soviet Constructivist poet until 1990, and the presszó attracted those of an artistic inclination.
The dour waiter in a black cardigan could be one of the original poets. 
The Mester eszpresszó on Mester utca, the street of craftsmen and artisans, is announced by wonderful tableau signs.
This is a real eszpresszó with wood paneling and old linoleum.
Groups of men sit, drinking fröccs in the afternoon and bustling waitresses take no nonsense from behind the huge sixties counter. The bar is crowded with loud, bright fruit machines and a gigantic beige ceramic stove takes up half the floor.
Whereas the borozó is often the haunt of the solitary drinker, the presszó is much more communal and sociable. 
The Tik Tak on Böszörményi út has a sweet neon cuckoo clock above the doorway.
Refined, silver-haired gentlefolk of the vicinity use to drop in for coffee an cognac.
A piano once stood on a platform at the back and lamps with parchment shades gave an atmosphere of old Hungarian films. Böszörményi út is almost a museum street itself with many of the old neon signs still remaining.
Nearby, the Májas - Liver sausage calls itself a vendéglô now and offers food, but the peppermint green exterior, neon Májas sign and crazy paving stone floor are definitely ‘Espresszó-land’.
There are a few too many coke signs in the window but the whole presszó is redeemed by the wonderful walls inside.
The knobbly walls are like the inside of a sixties recording studio and help the conversation on horse-betting, the lottó and the fortunes or misfortunes of Fradi, to reverberate around the room, increasing in volume and urgency.
After a few pálinkas, you half-close your eyes, drift off and move back in time.
You can imagine Mária Gardonyi (from the heavenly Palma -now revamped as the Mozart) is playing the piano and couples are dancing cheek to cheek while others hum along to the favorites tunes, documenting a more gentle graceful time.
In his homage to the coffee-house, Ferenc Bodor wrote, ‘In the present depopulated, impoverished hamburgerized realm of catering, hostile to customers, those more advanced in years recall the smoke-filled cafés with their yellowed silk lampshades and tinkling pianos with wistful nostalgia.
Coffee houses and cafés have had their day, in present-day Budapest at least.’


Where to sip presszó coffee and pear pálinka, once....long ago.....in presszó land

UPDATE - this article dates from the late 1990s. Many have now disappeared, gone forever.

Please let me know if you have any news on some of these national treasures, listed below:


1. Kisposta - XII. Krisztina krt 2/4 GONE, NOW SAVINGS BANK, sob

2. Bambi - II. Frankel Leó út 2/4

3. Sziget - V. Szent István krt 7 GONE, NOW the vile 'theme-café' EUROPA CUKRÁSZDA, waitresses in costume

4. Terv - V. Nádor utca 19

5. Tulipán - V. Nádor utca 32

6. Mignon - V. Károly krt 28 GONE – the entire parade has been demolished, a gem is lost forever

7. Majakovskij - VII. Király utca 103 NOW THE INNOCUOUS ‘MAYA’

8. Mester - IX. Mester utca 45, still pretty rough at last glance

9. Tik-Tak - XII. Böszörményi út 17/c, with the wonderful clock on the facade

10. Májas - XII. Tartsay Vilmos utca 21 GONE, NOW ‘ARCADE BISTRO’

11. Naná - V. Királyi Pál utca, very dusty and gloomy but with an 'Another Way' [Egymásra nézve] ambience.

12. Híd cukrászda - IX. Ferenc krt by Mester utca...on the way out

13. No 1. - V. Sas utca

14. Ibolya - V. Ferenciek tere

15. Akadémia - üllõi út opposite med school

16. Gourmand – now the Gourmand Sports Bar (flagging fast)

17. Alkotás – XII Alkotás út - DERELICT

18. Szonáta - XI Bartok Béla út is now Wang’s Chinese Food. It used to be the place where the Magyar Narancs editors gathered to drink beer and play on the solitary pinball machine.
19. Grinzingi borozó – Irányi út, foofed up a bit lately, and not the same dowdy, dusty and very smoky atmosphere…prices went up, students and alcies moved out

20. Angelika - Batthyány tér - renovated, original furnishings dumped, gone are the ladies in hats eating cake, in come techno teenies and horrible loud music. Atmosphere annihilated.