Northern deLights!

try and picture this .. It’s -27˚C (that feels like -35˚C) it’s all fogged up from everyone’s breathing and the smoke from hot glogg and berry juice and huddled around…

try and picture this ..

It’s -27˚C (that feels like -35˚C)

it’s all fogged up from everyone’s breathing and the smoke from hot glogg and berry juice and huddled around the flickering firelight an enchanting Finnish girl has you mesmerized with folklore and myths about the northern lights ..

stories that range from schools of herring fish reflecting light, to spume of water ejected from whales. to blood of the murdered, to souls of the dead, to estranged lovers communicating across time and space, 

to their most favourite one – where it was believed that the lights were caused by the firefox who ran so quickly across the snow that his tail caused sparks to fly into the night sky creating the Aurora. Indeed, the Finnish word for the Northern Lights “revontulet” translates literally as “fire fox”

if I was asked to rate what was my most magical memory (and there were many), this would probably be it.

The unfortunate thing is that when a trip is labeled as ‘chase the northern lights with carlton braganza’ the only question asked, and justifiably so, on getting back is ‘how were the lights? Its on my bucketlist!’

I’m choosing to ignore that question and try and make a point that the lights were (blasphemy of blasphemies) incidental!


So what does one do other than chase the lights!?? well, I’ll tell u how I kept myself entertained!

–       drank copious quantities of valhala and mintu and vodka. legend (and logic) has it that the more valhala you drink the more lights you will see

–       visited a husky farm, and rode a super spirited 8 husky dogsled! the dogs we were told have a great life, defined working hours and even a retirement plan! and I was thinking maybe acche din is synonymous to dogs life!

–       had a fun gig at Olivers, the very popular local watering hole, which happened to be republic day and had people waving the indian tricolor – rovaniemi is a student town and one can pub hop and party all night long and the girls far outnumber the guys! – some places have long queues to enter which is not so fun at 3am when its -20˚C outside

–       paid santa a visit. Yes the actual santa. At his official address. Where over 19 million letters have been received from 199 countries. ate his favorite grilled salmon (easily the highpoint of that visit and worth the 40 mins wait), crossed the arctic circle, and paid 45 euros for a pic with him! clearly taking advantage of one’s position comes with the white bearded man territory! 

–       Snowmobiled on a frozen river. O, but they said its safe. That is If you stay on the charted path and don’t slow down if u see slushy patches.. And if you think -25˚ is an inhuman condition, you should try it at 80kmph!

–       Experienced the arctic snow hotel. All my class 5 geography cramming of eskimoes and tundra and igloos came hurtling back. The entire hotel, rooms, chapel (people get married here), bar, beds (and ambitiously spend their wedding night here), tables, chairs  and even drinking glasses made of ice, makes u feel like you are the king of the north! 

–       The finnish sauna (they’re the ones that invented it) is supposed to be meditative and reflective… wasn’t the same with us as we uncouthly violated all rules.

but was quite an intense experience! 

10 – 15 mins of sweating profusely depending on how much water you put on those hot stones. Then you run out from +80˚C into – 20˚C and roll around in the snow or jump into a frozen lake and from there immerse yourself into an open-to-sky steaming outdoor Jacuzzi, and you sit there in your swimmers while its snowing all around and onto you!

–       Sang and told stories around the fireplace at a kota dinner in a lappish tent in the tundra wilderness. Grilled sausages on an open flame, with a simple dinner of pumpkin soup and reindeer meat and lots of mulled wine and hot berry juice

–       Ate everything from elk to reindeer to moose to bear and in these conditions it totally felt so much like Leo in the Revanant!

–       Wore more clothes than ive ever worn in my life at a time

–       Walked through 2 feet of snow

–       made snow angels on a frozen lake

–       built a mate for frosty the snowman

–       had many a snow fight

–       slept on a frozen river and looked up at the stars

–       ate fresh snow of a windowsill

–       stuck bottles of wine and beer into the snow on the balcony to chill!

–       had a jam / gig with a some really hip jazz cats at Storyville, Helsinki (rated by downbeat as one of the 50 coolest jazz venues in the world)

–       took a ferry across the frozen Baltic to Tallinn Estonia and spent a day in the old town that could easily be a set straight out of game of thrones

–       spent a couple of days in Stockholm with some wonderful people and jammed with some ridiculously talented musicians!

I really could go on and on .. everyday life and even the way they clear snow off the streets i found fascinating! Scandinavia in the winter should be on everyone’s bucket list! I cannot wait to get back

oh, and incidentally, we did get a glimpse of those magical northern lights too!!

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Talking Turkey!

It doesn’t hurt to smile … Well, maybe this 5 min read might change that universally accepted adage! Was about 11o’clock last night when I left the hotel to do…

It doesn’t hurt to smile …

Well, maybe this 5 min read might change that universally accepted adage!

Was about 11o’clock last night when I left the hotel to do my usual – get some food, walk around, find a bar, get some live music in, and hopefully get lucky (in other words, upstage a band!!)

So I’m walking down Istiklal drooling at the shop windows and a guy comes up to me and smiles. I smile back. Guy is in his late thirties, well dressed, and tries to strike up a conversation.

Turk: Are u looking for something?

Me: Not really (continue walking)

He follows me with the usual

T: Where u from / how many days here / are you liking Istanbul …

I mumble my responses not wanting to engage at all. I’m not someone who’s not seen this before.. from the streets of Patong and Khaosan to National market and Linking Road .. they are all the same! In Istanbul also on an average you have 5 people a day come to you with the same pick up lines (can I have a light / you look like a Turk / do you want me to take a photo of you) so I’m not new to this .. So I continue walking!

He was smart and witty and spoke refreshingly decent English so I kinda made some hesitant conversation..

T: I know of this really cool club down the street that my brother is the manager of.. you don’t need to stay! it gets quite busy later and lots of fun crowd and plenty of girls! Have a look and see if you like it. You could even come back tomorrow!!

Me: Not really keen on such places. I’m looking for a live music bar. Do you know of any?

T: They have live music there too sometimes. We could have a look? If you don’t like it, you can go elsewhere. It’s 50m away in any case..

Me: Ok let’s peep in and see, tho I’m telling you right now that I’m not gonna stay..

T: That’s totally fine! As you wish, my friend

A min later we reach this place! Bang off the main street with an empty cop car parked 10 mtrs away … place was called Monaco Club. The guy gives the bouncers a handshake and tells them I’m with him and waves for me to come on in.

I’m gonna pause here .. just to catch my own breath before going ahead ..

I enter a dimly lit shady kinda club (again, I’ve been in way worse) few guys at tables with about 20 girls around … mostly Russian Estonian Belarusian from the looks of it. He gestures towards a table

T: Have a seat.

Me: No I’m good. (I was standing by the table)

A waiter comes up to the table with 2 coke looking drinks and a plate of nuts. Haven’t seen service like this in a 5 star I’m thinking to myself. I told him I’m not drinking! 2 girls come to our table and try to strike up a conversation with the 2 of us..

By now I’ve seen enough (or so I thought) and I told the guy I’m leaving. Next thing you know is there’s a bill at the table (that I haven’t even yet sat at)

All this has happened in less than 2 mins since I’ve entered this place!

I didn’t even look at the bill.

Me: I never ordered anything. I haven’t even sat here..

Bouncer #1 appears: (in thick Turkish accent) You have to pay. You came here. You got drinks. You talked to girls. You have to pay! (all true, I guess)

Me: I’m not going to. Call the waiter and check if I ordered anything. Ask my friend if you want. He told me I could have a look.

I turned to look for the guy “my friend” who brought me there. He was with the manager and the bouncers. I’m certain the look I would’ve given him would match the one Judas received, in a place not too far away from here!

So I’m on my own! Bouncers 2, 3 and 4 join the party. I still haven’t even seen the bill.

B1: how much money you have on you.

Me: (raising my voice) I’m not paying!

B2: (grabs my wrist in one vice like grip) you cannot leave till you pay

Me: Call the police

B1: (grabbing me by the throat) show me your wallet. I wanna see what you have. I promise i will not take any thing. I just wanna see!

There’s no way I was gonna get past 4 or maybe 5 of these middle eastern mountains that even Mohamed might’ve found difficult moving!

They went thru my wallet. Took out everything. Didn’t find enough there.. Though there would’ve been more in there to buy a couple of rounds of drinks in a regular bar.

Then started shoving their hands in my pockets.. getting more and more aggressive with every passing second. I’m pretty sure they have weapons on them. I now glance at the bill. It was about 1300 Turkish Lira!

They still hadn’t found anything. so they ask me to open my sling pouch thingee! Now that’s where the real money / passport etc was .. one of the guys sitting at a nearby table switches on his phone light to help them with this search .. like they needed any help!

so now they’ve found euros and roubles and rupees and dollars.

They start counting, all the while still saying we just wanna see. We are not gonna take anything! All this – while 2 guys are holding me down and one “customer” is providing a torchlight!

He takes a few 100$ notes out and puts that hand on my shoulder, telling me don’t worry. it’s all ok! the guy holding me from behind deftly relieves him of the notes; smooth as anything you would ever see. They pretend to give me all my money and docs back and even start putting my stuff back together! I grabbed whatever I could and ran for the door. They made a feeble attempt of trying to say you have to pay and stopping me (nothing quite like it was before) but I knew they had taken what they needed to! They could’ve had a lot more I guess, but there’s still some honour amongst thieves!

Found a cop two mins later and tried to tell him I had been robbed. He looked at me strangely and smiled and said he didn’t understand English! Clearly was also on the take. More guys started gathering around and asking what the issue was and I realised I probably was setting myself up for more damage than help if I hung around there any longer!!

I met a friend post that and she told a couple of years ago 3 male friends of hers came here. Same story except that they had that coke looking drink.. next thing u know they woke up in a room with 4 naked women, bottles of champagne and a bill of 4200$

As I sit in my ‘safe’ hotel room reading similar stories on the internet I’m wondering how they still continue to get away with it! and also thinking that I got away pretty lightly in comparison! I didn’t sip that drink. I wasn’t asked for my cards. I still have my limbs intact!

I’m just wary of smiling 🙂

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Coming full circle …

When we started Opus way back in Dec 2003, Gina asked me how many chairs would we need to buy for the place and I said 25 – 30 tops….

When we started Opus way back in Dec 2003, Gina asked me how many chairs would we need to buy for the place and I said 25 – 30 tops. Honestly didnt think we would need more. 
I still don’t see the reason why, in a couple of months, it became so ridiculously popular. (I still have random people come up to me and curse me for taking all their money growing up or never making it to work on Monday mornings)
To me it was still a place I wore my torn shorts, jumped about like a monkey on stage, did some borderline-offensive creatives, and met some really cool people. I never considered what I did there as ‘work’.

The reason I shut Opus down was because I realized there were things I was forced to do beyond just doing those borderline-offensive creatives and jumping like a monkey on stage and meeting cool people.

Cut to July ’17.. When this new project came to me a couple of months ago I wasn’t sure how to react – a massive place with the people behind it people wanting to call it Opus. Clearly people around me think this brand is cooler than it is in my head.

I had 2 options 

  • fight them and say you can’t call it that (brand is registered with me) and continue to jumping like a monkey on stages across the countryside and beyond 
  • join up and have another venue to jump like a money on stage and do borderline-offensive creatives for, and meet even more cool people.

was a no-brainer which option i chose

The What Why Where and Who of this Opus?
If you are expecting that shacky, warm, fuzzy feeling that Opus was known for over the years, you may be more than a little surprised and probably even overwhelmed!
The new club Opus launching in a couple of days, has that and a lot more! A slick, racy, smokin’ red hot club that boasts of arguably the country’s best live sound and a mammoth LED wall – something you’d find in the party districts of London or Amsterdam.
For those warm, fuzzy, shacky Opus lovers, there is also a vintage outdoors Octopus’ Garden – painted walls, al fresco, a chilled out section with a large bar and an acoustic stage.
The next phase will see a large diner and a terrace lounge, and a big triple height banquet hall targeted at all the corporates that are all around the area.
Expect an Opus section on the menu, as well as a whole load more fun stuff added on.

Yes, it is in the boonies (the defensive ones like to call it the new Bangalore) just off Sarjapur Road. We can’t really expect people to drive from Chennai for a Sunday night anymore, but who knows … 

Here are the people involved –
Gopi (an old Opus ally and partner who’s pretty much responsible for bringing a lot of old faces back, including your’s truly) and Somaiah (the man who runs White Petals at Palace Grounds, the venue we did the 3rd season finale of KroaKing 10 yrs ago) are the guys who have made this happen
Richard Decosta an old F&B warhorse, is the head of Ops and General Manager
Interiors of the Club – Gaurav Mehra
Sound design – Vishnu from SD Audio
Creative and Design – Trump-it and Red Baton
Digital media – Red Baton
Programming DJs – Vachan Chinnappa
Programming Live and Performing Monkey – Carlton Braganza

Launch Weekend
Way back in 2006 I think Venky took me online and made me listen to this voice of a school mate of his. Venks must’ve been 19 or 20 at the time but even back then when he said something, one would take notice. He said to me that if this guy got the right breaks he would be one of the biggest things in this country. Sanam took part in one of the KroaKing seasons a couple of years later, and smashed it obvs. He then got signed on to Times Music and the rest is the phenomenon they are today. When I last checked this evening they less than 50k short of 3M subscribers on YouTube
So again, an obvious choice who we wanted to launch this place with.
Saturday and Sunday the home boys Vachan and CB will take charge

Opus also brings with it their annual 8 days of Christmas –  The Christmas festival that was Opus’ annual birthday bash from way back when we started in December 2003. stay tuned

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Wen in Goa!

I’m such a Goan sham .. shame, even! I don’t speak either Konkani or Portuguese (it’s another thing that i can manage to phonetically scam my way through singing most…

I’m such a Goan sham .. shame, even!
I don’t speak either Konkani or Portuguese (it’s another thing that i can manage to phonetically scam my way through singing most of those old mandos)
I don’t have an ancestral house in Goa (the good wife fixed that a few yrs ago, when we got ourselves one)
I didn’t continue playing the violin (although i kinda regret it now)
I don’t go to daily mass (shall not get into those details, for fear of family fire and brimstone)
I don’t play the beautiful game, and i certainly don’t fancy the beautiful CR7 either
.. and I can’t handle the stench of bodily fluids post ingesting cashew feni (coconut feni and limca i can ables, though)

But yes, I still burst some chest buttons considering myself to be one of the fold.
I’m a Braganza (complete with many embarrassing middle names), I think I can sing the bailas better than most, I think I can ‘jive’ passably well, I use ‘where men’ copiously and without reason, and being a Bandra boy definitely gives me some consolation brownie points.
But last week it was wonderful to witness the real deal of everything Goan!
I happened to message Wendell that I was in Goa on some work, and he said to come over for a meal! Now I’ve been a fan boy of the man and his work for years – which also means that I follow (it’s the more civilized way of saying stalk) his every social media move! So obviously I was gonna make the 50km trek from my house in Bogmalo to Colvale (it’s another thing that it takes less time to traverse that distance, than one would from Ulsoor to Koramangla on a good day) to see his wonderful new house (the old one is well on its way to become a Goan heritage museum), his affable Frenchman, and spend some time with his 4 canine children
From the moment I got there (late, as usual) it was like time had retired for the day, and what followed that evening was the most unpretentious and gracious display of laid back Goan village life and hospitality! T’was a small gathering of about 10 people, all on the candlelit balcao, sipping their whiskeys and their fenis, strumming guitars and singing things that ranged from Bossa to bailas and beyond. The highlight for me, was Maxie Miranda with his wonderfully delightful finger picking guitar playing style and vocal interpretations from Jobim to Sergio Mendes – if you closed your eyes you would probably think you were in some taberna on a narrow Sao Paulo street. The otherwise very regal Athena and Sophia sprawled on the red oxide floor (I love dogs that make for good ottomans). An ingenious round of snacks was being served. Hummus with Goa sausage sprinkled over with small squares of kadak poi (pita seems so ‘dough’ in comparison) to scoop it with. And another first – breadfruit french fries (that he said his house help grew in their gardens that were bigger than his). Dinner was simple blissful home fare of tambdi bhajji and teesrios and bombil fry and prawn curry (the real deal) with Goa rice, out in the garden overlooking their lovely plunge pool. By this time Wendell had slipped off to bed unannounced (I learnt later that he’s one of those birds getting the worm at 5 in the morn). Jerome and I decided on a nightcap (which I think ended up in six each) and we sat in the dwindling flickering candlelight and gossiped like village aunties after Sunday mass! I thought I was good to drive back all the way southwards, but the moment I got into the car and switched the a/c on and pushed the seat back, I clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Next thing I know, is I’m woken up by the raucous chirping of birds all out to beat W to that juicy worm!

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the ‘Happy’ KJo

Me: Bob! when u in Blr next men? Kjo: Yooooo! Yea I have to fix my PSR. Lol Me: Hahaha gawd Kjo: How was North Sea jazz bro. I wanna…

Me: Bob! when u in Blr next men?
Kjo: Yooooo! Yea I have to fix my PSR. Lol
Me: Hahaha gawd
Kjo: How was North Sea jazz bro. I wanna play there bob. its time
Me: epic as always. I’m sure u will play there soon
Kjo: I hope so bob. You know Rishi Shah? Rave magazine. Publisher
Me: ya I knew him. from a long time ago. sure he knows me. why tho?
Kjo: He’s cool? He’s helping me. Wants to manage me n all
Let’s see bobb. I’m lost with the whole media thing bob. I can’t do it anymore
I wanna make money but I just wanna play music. I’m going mad I don’t know how to send content. I wanna play at north sea bob. Yea I just wanna perform
Me: thats awesome. ya u should. i could also help. but in my opinion u shdn’t be stuck to one person or agency .. put a trio together first
Kjo: Yea bob.. Karan Joseph Trio. Branford and Justin Faulkner. No jazz in India bobb
Me: hmm true that
Kjo: True na?

This was earlier this week, and the last i heard of or from him till Floyd called me this morning and said “baba, pls check if this is true. i just heard … “
My head is reeling with the events of today. My phone has been incessantly ringing. I numbly scroll through Facebook and see a million messages, and in my head I’m like this can’t be happening.. again!
I met this child (sadly he continued to be one till this morning – lost in his own almost autistic bubble, oblivious to that big bad bombay) I think in the August of 2004 when I was doing a short cameo in a city play. He was 15 and had the makings of a genius even then ..
We had just started Opus when every night was like a small house party with a couple of guitars and had a lovely upright piano, that was our pride and joy, and i told him to come and tickle it.
So this shy young boy used to drag his father along and come to Opus at every little opportunity he got. When everyone had left (which was all of 8 and a half people at the time) he would open up the lid of the piano and have a go.
Word spread and people started staying back (those were the good old days when driving was not a bad word, and nights stretched elastically way beyond 11.30) to watch this strangely reticent but awfully gifted boy.
Every night became a singalong (we had even printed songbooks), a jam, with more and more musicians and people coming in, singing and playing along. Karan’s incredible gift was that if he heard something once, he could play it on that weapon of mass destruction, (his PSR 2000)
Every Saturday night the 2 of us did a set and he (and in turn, me) developed quite a repertoire and a following.
From Opus he moved on to bigger, better and brighter and more assorted substances. Me, I moved to singing with backing tracks. Told him that he spoilt me, and I couldn’t be damned going for rehearsals or trying to find an accompanist or a backing band that got me the way he could or did.
We still managed to get together every year for an Opus Christmas gig, and always prided (or fooled) ourselves the ‘we still had it’ despite not having a single rehearsal!

The stories I have of this boy are legendary.
I remember a time at a rehearsal when he was shadily handed a mint strip to place under his tongue and he kept coming back for more and telling us ‘bobb, thats good stuff’
Or the time I took him to Bombay when George Duke played at the Gateway of India. Few years later Karan Joseph made it to Berklee and GD played on campus and I get a video clip saying “bobb! can u imagine who I’m watching?”
Then there were the sleepless nights Gina spent tried to teach the boy History and Economics and help him pass his exams .. and I told her “don’t waste your time. He’ll be alright” and more than alright he was (or so I thought). In a couple of months he said to said to hell with the exams and started killing it with the gigs he was getting and having more fun and making more money (he once said speak to my manager bobb .. to which I said f*** you) than anyone twice his age! Sadly, with it though, came the heady concoction of adulation (he was a monster performer on stage) and the promise of making it really big, which I think in hindsight he couldn’t handle.
Then again, traveling and gigging with him was stuff not for the fainthearted.
From oversleeping to losing many boarding cards to missing flights to not having his keyboard pedal or adaptor to even tying and taping a torch to his PSR cos the display broke, to carrying him home, we did it all. He even managed to fall backwards of a 2 and half foot stage mid song, cos his chair was too close to the edge.

But nothing could take away the genius that this boy was! I’ve always believed that “specialization is for insects” and to me I’ve not seen more versatility in anyone till date. He could play anything.. and i mean ANYTHING! From churches to clubs, from classical to commercial crap, from Coltrane to Coldplay.. he ruled. I don’t think i’ll see anyone in this lifetime like that, and I’m glad we shared a few good years and clothes and whiskeys and music together in this one!
Whoaahhh! Yoooo! Godspeed Bobbnoww! Any good chicks up there? Save some!

Yamaha PSR 2000 Masterclass!

OPUS 发布于 2014年2月8日

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No sympathy for the Devil! – Dachau Concentration Camp

I watched the movie Dunkirk late last night. People were gasping and oohing and aahing all around me, but for all Nolan’s cinematographic brilliance and Zimmer’s devastatingly haunting score, it…

I watched the movie Dunkirk late last night. People were gasping and oohing and aahing all around me, but for all Nolan’s cinematographic brilliance and Zimmer’s devastatingly haunting score, it was what it was .. a really well made movie – at best!
It didn’t churn the insides of my stomach. It didn’t glaze my eyes over. It didn’t dry the insides of my mouth. It didn’t make me wanna throw up. It didn’t get me staring blankly into space. And it didn’t give me sleepless nights.
A couple of weeks ago, though, something did all of that, and then some.

What I thought would be just another #eurotripping17 tick-mark turned out to be quite a life changing morning, to say the very least.

Less than an hour away from all the madness and mirth of Munich, is a sleepy, picture-book, idyllic, small town in deep Bavaria, called Dachau, that was, for 12 long years, surreptitiously home to the devil himself.

Yes, Webster defines “the devil” as the supreme spirit of evil / Satan / a subordinate evil spirit at enmity with God / having power to afflict humans both with bodily disease and with spiritual corruption / an atrociously wicked, cruel, or ill-tempered person. Dachau outdid itself with being all things evil and vile (interesting anagram that) ever imaginable.

72 years have passed since he was banished back to Hades, but the heaviness that one encounters at Dachau is still palpable. From the moment one enters that space, no one speaks, everyone is solitarily listening to their audio-guides, staring blankly, horror stricken, reflective, dismal, sullen, sombre, melancholic ..

I’m not going to say much either (words actually fail me) but try and let the images convey that sinister story, though I’m sure there are plenty of web articles that one could read in great detail about the audacious atrocities, the trains that dumped them here (that weren’t fit to transport cattle), the gas chambers (the inmates were fooled into believing they were going for a shower), the culturing of mosquitoes (to spread malaria), the standing (and dying) in the snow for 20 hours for a roll call and those deplorable inhuman living (if one can call it that) conditions …

I’m just grateful to have seen what hell was like and lived to tell the tale!

I guess I won’t be complaining about life and unrequited love and warm beer (and even no beef) for a while!

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the 30-day-overnighter!

do you think it’s possible to fit? 12 tees 4 formal shirts 3 shorts 1 pair jeans 1 pair trousers waistcoat Indian wedding outfit pair of formal shoes 4 belts…

do you think it’s possible to fit?

  • 12 tees
  • 4 formal shirts
  • 3 shorts
  • 1 pair jeans
  • 1 pair trousers
  • waistcoat
  • Indian wedding outfit
  • pair of formal shoes
  • 4 belts
  • suspenders
  • a light jacket
  • bowties
  • 12 underwear
  • 3 boxers
  • 3 sleeveless vests
  • 2 swim shorts
  • 5 pairs socks
  • basic toiletries
  • medicines
  • a hard disc
  • perfume
  • hair wax
  • gifts for people visited
  • a large empty backpack

into a cabin bag?
well, stick around and find out!

Unpacking after a month in Europe – 6 countries, 11 cities, a mix of 13 airbnbs, hostels. hotels, friend’s homes… catching flights, running after buses, sightseeing, getting onto trains, climbing stairs, walking miles!

.. wouldn’t have been possible without this magic 30-day-overnighter!

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Kya bath hai!

Szechenyi Thermal Spa Baths – possibly the largest natural underwater hot springs in Europe with its steamrooms and saunas and hot tubs and cold tubs and water jets and beer…

Szechenyi Thermal Spa Baths – possibly the largest natural underwater hot springs in Europe with its steamrooms and saunas and hot tubs and cold tubs and water jets and beer spas and massages .. it’s  a maze of rooms and I actually got lost and couldn’t find my way out!

One should ideally take their own towel and swimwear (can he hired, but at a price)

price for basic entry (which includes a locker that took me a while to fig out) is 4600 huf.

the place explodes into a massive pool party over the weekends!

warning – images may contain some nudity. fortunately this wasn’t in Germany 🙂

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