Budapest: Commune, sweet, Commune.

The busride was long.

REALLY long.

At a bit over 8 hours with delays, anything resembling a home that didn't move would suffice. Proud of our thirty dollar round-trips, we tried not to complain and figured out the Budapest trasportation situation at lightening speed. Exhausted but excited, we trekked to our hostel: BackPack Guesthouse.

The name was simple, yet it was a homestead destination to be desired--or so said our many sources. Needless to say, the descriptions of our hostel was just what I was looking for-- homey and hippie. It was too bad it took so long to get there *cough, getting lost, cough," by then our nearly ten hours of transit was getting to our heads. It was not until later that we began to appreciate fully the unlocked and themed rooms, hodgepodge of travel photos, handpainted...everything, hammocks, and extremely chill people. At the moment, we were pissed that caving was closed for the weekend.

So--we crashed our stuff...

and went to the spa.

But, before I regale you with my "cultural" spa tales.

Here are some pictures of the veritable commune where we spent our weekend. With brochure features such as "Chill out Garden" and "Cheap beer available," we knew something was right. As did many other travelers, mostly of the backpacker variety, who soon would become our friends.

Onward...
Welcome to your new home..

Surprisingly located in a small, quiet neighborhood

Fabulous communal living room where we watched the France v. Portugal football game with a bunch of insane French people and some devestated Brits.

The basement opened up to the yeard, and the walls covered with pictures...

We stayed in the "Green room" How, botanical?