Nachtclub Peaches and Cream in Budapest

Tijdens ons weekendje Boedapest zijn we met een groep vrienden naar Club Peaches and Cream gegaan, en het was zonder twijfel een van de leukste avonden van de trip. De club is strak georganiseerd, met goede beveiliging en een fijne sfeer. De muziek was top – een lekkere mix van commerciële hits en dansbare nummers. De DJ wist precies hoe hij de sfeer erin moest houden. Drankjes waren prima geprijsd voor een club, en de bediening was snel, zelfs aan de bar. Een dikke plus: voor een kleine meerprijs (ongeveer 10 euro per persoon) konden we de rij skippen. Zeker de moeite waard, want het was erg druk bij de ingang. Al met al een aanrader als je uit wilt gaan in Boedapest en op zoek bent naar een iets meer classy club night zonder het gevoel te hebben dat je in een overhypte toeristenval belandt.

I actively had to live journal my experience in this place when I visited there last Saturday, because it was absolutely mental: This place appears like an AI generated experiment, almost like it’s the latest VR release of the Sims. None of the music seems to be licensed past 2005. They sandwiched a known song from 2005 in between five different Turkish style songs that I have never heard of. But regardless everyone else knows the lyrics to every song. It’s always the same level of busyness. The dance floor was never emptier or more packed than when we first arrived, perfect equilibrium at all times. I genuinely believe we are part of a 2025 remake of the Truman Show. Like if you put your hand up to tell them to knock it off, you would win a prize as being the first person to ever discover this was a televised social experiment. It feels like MR Beast is waiting for me to tap out. However, it feels like if I don’t dance and play along with the joke then they will ship me off to the Gulag to repent for my misbehaviour with eternal forced labour. This is one of those places with video DJs but they genuinely don’t seem to have got any licensing past 2005. The music videos for the Turkish sounding songs looked like they were shot in one take and all filmed in the same dimly lit hotel room. We have been there an hour and they have already played three songs from 50 Cent’s breakout album Get Rich or Die Tryin’. I have not listened to any of those songs within the same two hour period since 2004. They brought an older bloke on stage to sing what I think is happy birthday in Turkish. He would often look over and stare us directly in the eyes, it was very disconcerting The bartender had several buttons undone up to his nipple line, but then all buttons from there up fully fastened. A second singer appeared who looked like a fat bald man but had the voice of a young Mariah Carey. It turns out he was a 12 year old eunuch. This is genuinely a prepubescent boy singing people’s song requests. The old man and the young child who are both singing seem like a package duo. Like he has been grooming this child to sing in this club since he could talk. There’s a guy walking around the club who looks like a Jimmy Saville impersonator. In the interlude from this random karaoke, a group of Spanish tourists started singing Volare by Bobby Rydell whenever there was a gap in the official music. There's a very pale ginger man who keeps walking around like he’s been trapped in this place for years, like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. The DJ is called DJ Fenton, yes, like the viral video. Fennnnnntoooooooooooooonnnnnn. This is like I travelled back to the past and witnessed cavemen making fire for the first time. The duo are back and the only thing I can liken them to is the Hungarian Chas and Dave. It feels like we stumbled into the Hungarian Mafia’s birthday party for a deceased relative who loved R&B but unexpectedly passed away in 2004. The last actual s...