Bulgaria

August 2005

Bulgaria. I had extensively toured Bulgaria back in 1997. I had seen all the major sites and never intended to return but my father had never been there so we decided to drop in on the way to Serbia. I had written a travel article on driving around Bulgaria which started “It was pitch black as we approached the town. I should have known better than to be pushing 60 kph along the deserted road. Suddenly a police car appeared and pulled us over. After inspecting our documents, the policemen informed me that the speed limit was 40 kph, and revealed a radar gun. They then gravely requested the due fine. Walking back to the car, I calculated that my transgression had cost me just 10 pence!” Times had moved on. It was now a member of NATO and due to join the European Union along with everyone else.

Online Lonely Planet reinforced this by saying “Bulgaria has changed swiftly over the last decade, though in the villages you can still find folk who ride the donkey to work, eat home grown potatoes and make their own cheese. The difference now is that they wash it all down in front of a satellite TV”.

Bulgarian Background: Gained Independence from the Turkish Ottoman Empire in 1908. Having fought on the losing side of both World Wars, it fell within the Soviet sphere of influence. Communist domination ended in 1990. The CIA said it was slightly larger than Tennessee. Population about 7.5 million people. 85% of which followed the Bulgarian Orthodox church. Average income of about $8,500 a year. Major industries: food processing, machine and metal building, electronics, chemicals. Slowly increasing as a tourist destination. Mostly mountains with lowlands in north and southeast. Borders the Black Sea. 9 month compulsory military conscription for 18 year olds.

Our first destination upon entering Bulgaria was Veliko Turnovo south of the border. The Rough Guide reported that “The precipitously perched houses of Veliko Turnovo seem poised to leap into chasms that divide the city into separate quarters. Medieval fortifications girdling the Tsarevets massif add melodrama to the scene”. I could say that we had come to see the impressive Tsarevets castle ruins, but we had actually come to find an ATM and get some Bulgarian Lev. I had been here before and took my father to a viewpoint where the old castle walls hung onto steep cliffs and which looked as impressive as I remembered them – especially under clear sky blue skies.

Heading west along a familiar main road, I was surprised that the quality of the roads had improved and the bone rattling potholes which had predominated during my last visit had mostly disappeared. Likewise, there had been a dearth of road signs in 1997 because the locals stole them for scrap metal and any that survived were in the Cyrillic alphabet. Now Bulgaria had road signs at last some of which were in English. But the police speed traps were still around. We saw more police in Bulgaria than Romania.

Turning south and rising along a narrow, twisty, mountainous pass through forests and pasture land, we climbed up to the summit where a new concrete memorial to Bulgarian Independence had been erected in the middle of nowhere – somewhere to visit on a Sunday afternoon drive – because it was there – and dropped down the other side. Back in the spring of 1997, this pass had been snowbound and coming from the south, we had been forced to turn around when the car couldn’t clear the snow levels.

We dropped into Troyan Monastery which I hadn’t seen. It was Bulgaria’s third largest monastery and having seen the other two, I collected the complete set. Perched on the bank of a river and shaded by trees, the monastery was a 15th Century structure, though the church was built in the 19th Century. The church had impressive frescoes both outside and inside including a ‘Last Judgement’ with a macabre figure of Death bundling unfortunates into the gaping mouth of hell.

Late in the afternoon, it was nice to have the place to ourselves and we were rewarded by watching a Bulgarian Orthodox service. There were a couple of bearded priests in purple and black gowns doing the talking and waving around the incense. Hidden in the corner, were the choir. Three men dressed normally, who sang from hymn sheets that were pinned to a revolving wooden spindle. They would spin it around depending upon where the service was up to. A couple of local women were in attendance but with the intimate feel, the incense, the lovely sound of the choir, it felt as if we were being given a private service. I thought that 5pm was a strange time to have a service. Later I discovered that the clocks had moved an hour forward. Back on the road, we passed herds of goats being driven home by shepherds.

I had stayed in an old Communist hotel on the main road that we joined from the mountain pass. I knew it was 9km from Karlovo. But I wasn’t sure which side. So we headed for Karlovo. I guess the hotel was on the other side because we never saw it. I remember it being full of drunk Bulgarian and Russian truck drivers that offered us shots of vodka so they could try and talk to my then girlfriend, Jo (she of the epic World Backing trip). I drank. She talked. I got pissed. She didn’t, and when the drivers started singing songs, we excused ourselves and tried to order a meal from a menu with a Cyrillic menu. We probably ordered sheep’s testicles.

Apparently Karlovo is “one of the most attractive towns in the Valley of the Roses, despite its dreary suburbs and the presence of a large army garrison” (Rough Guide). It is also the birthplace of one of their most famous revolutionaries. Ironically, I only remembered it for their weekday market where farmers sold pigs, sheep, lambs and chickens out of the back of their Ladas (I have photos – honest). What I’d call a real ‘car boot’ sale. This agricultural market was one of the more illuminating sights I saw in Bulgaria.

Alas, when we checked into the Xahzt Hotel, the female receptionist had never heard of this market. Times had changed in Bulgaria. Some for the good and some for the less interesting. We paid top dollar to stay in a luxurious 3 star hotel in Bulgaria (£27 for a double room). Back in 1997, Jo and I had paid £2 each to stay in an empty Youth Hostel in southern Bulgaria and to make up, had visited the most expensive restaurant in town and spent five times as much on a meal. Ah, happy days from the Ghost of Eastern Europe Past. But my dad was happy enough with another Satellite TV with the World Athletic Championships, accompanied by Romanian beer and sausage, Polish peanuts and chocolate. If anyone can provide a car, sport and all the main food groups, my father is up for anything.

Early the next morning, we made for Koprivshtitsa – my favourite place in Bulgaria. When I had visited it in 1997, it wasn’t on the International tourist circuit. We had stayed with a local family. Now ‘Lonely Planet’ had discovered it and suddenly it had an international tourist market. Arriving by 8am, we had Koprivshtitsa to ourselves for 90 minutes before the tour buses arrived.

The Rough Guide has finally decided to describe Koprivshtitsa as “a lovely ensemble of half-timbered houses nestling amid wooded hills…it would be an oasis of pastoral calm were it not for the annual influx of summer visitors, drawn by the vernacular (look it up) architecture”. And guidebooks. Koprivshtitsa figured heavily in Bulgaria’s yearnings for Independence in 1876 when it was 12,000 strong and pretty wealthy with its sheep and goat farming. Now it is 2,600 strong and relies on tourism and the word of Bob Jack. Hidden in the mountains, it managed to avoid getting trashed by Ottoman revenge and now exists as a ‘museum village’ – what a perfect Bulgaria would look like today.

What you will find is a village divided by the River Topolnitsa into 5 sections, where stone bridges and water enhance the beauty of the architecture. More than 380 of the town’s houses date from the National Revival era (1876). Many have large wooden gates. “The total effect is both delicate and rugged, as red, blue and ochre-painted stucco counterpoints the natural tones of wood and stone” (Rough Guide). When you explore the narrow cobbled lanes you will find ye olde style wooden houses, with ye olde chimneys and red roof tiles and on the old wooden porches you should come across black bows and photos of the deceased. Something you don’t see in many places.

So we wandered and we explored the tiny cobbled lanes and we saw the major houses which I had visited before and my father decided that this place was “special”. One of those places that despite tourists retains some resemblance of character. The lanes were deserted unless locals had stopped to chat in the morning sun Yet when we found ourselves back on the main road, the tourists and tour buses came into sight. I could go into detail about the individual houses but why bother. If you ever come to Bulgaria, this village is an un-missable sight. You could do it as a day trip from the capital Sophia.

We drove onto Sophia and on the outskirts, we were stopped by a policeman. At the border we had bought a ‘vignette’ (road tax paid by foreigners with their own cars like Romania’s system), but had not realised it was supposed to be stuck on the windscreen. We had all our documents at hand including the sticker and he eventually gave up on trying to find something wrong, told us we were stupid not to read the instructions on the back (like we care?) and once we had stuck it on the windscreen, let us go.

I had visited Sophia before and remembered empty cobbled streets at rush hour. It still had the cobbled streets, but the roads were full of cars. There was nothing worth seeing in Sophia and true to Bulgarian standards, the road signs giving you a clue in which direction to follow had also been deemed not worth seeing. They were virtually non existent. It wasn’t until we looked down side streets that we found signposts. One essential road sign was actually hidden by a bush on roundabout. Thanks for that. We drove around that about three times before spotting it. The old Bulgarian architecture with its pastel yellow and white paint was nice to look at, but my dad has never been a big fan of capital cities and we made like shepherds and got the flock out.

The distance wasn’t particularly great, but with slow moving traffic and no opportunities to overtake, it seemed a long haul to Rila Monastery south of Sophia. We turned off the main road onto an empty, straight, narrow, tree lined road and thought, great, put the foot down. Just as we were about to launch into a 0-60mph in 5 seconds, we passed a hidden police car with a radar gun. Bastards. It was a minor road, no houses around and they were still angling for the Tourist dollar. A lovely, twisting , looping road through the forests took us to our destination. Donkeys pulled carts through spectacular Alpine–like scenery.

“As the best known of Bulgaria’s monasteries – justly famed for both its architecture and its mountainous setting” (Rough Guide), Rila Monastery is well worth the visit. Of anything I could have shown my father, I rated this as worth a visit. UNESCO have declared Bulgaria’s largest monastery as a World Heritage Site, despite the fact that the original 14th century complex was burnt down in 1833 and was rebuilt with public contributions throughout the rest of the 19th Century. The whole ensemble is ringed by mighty walls, giving it the outward appearance of a fortress.

Once you enter a main gate, there is a “harmonious beauty of the interior” (Rough Guide). Graceful arches surrounding the flag-stoned courtyard support tiers of monastic cells, and stairways ascend to top-floor balconies which viewed from below – resemble the outstretched petals of flowers. But it is the bold red stripes and black and white check patterns which enliven the façade and contrast with the sombre mountains behind to create a “visual harmony between the cloisters and the church within” (Rough Guide).

The monastery church had richly coloured frescoes both beneath the porch and inside, but I actually felt that the red, black and white patterns were more impressive in making the complex stand out as a whole. The four tiered walkways are also outstanding.

As we pottered around, we saw a lamb tied down and bleating. Various female tourists went to stroke it as my father made ‘slash across the throat’ motions letting them know that it was tonight’s evening meal at the monastery. Sure enough, a Bulgarian Orthodox Priest came out of nowhere, banged his cross around the square and came to untie the lamb and lead it away. As with Koprivshtitsa, this site is unmissable in Bulgaria.

Late in the afternoon, we headed back down the mountain. We had seen quite a few places, but within 5 minutes we saw a hotel advertising its fish restaurant and pulled in. I think the staff were a bit shocked to see us. Only the manager could speak English. We got a comfortable room and were told that fresh trout had been caught that afternoon. So we sat outside in the sun, drinking ice cold beer and after looking at the menu which offered ‘Water buffalo yoghurt”, “Insides” and “Tongue in milk”, we opted for the splendid trout dinner. My father rated it as his favourite accommodation of the trip. Breakfast of salami/cheese/bread was thrown in with the price and our waiter, pleased with last night’s tip, gave up presents of souvenir matchboxes and had practiced “Please come back again”.

Alas, we had to make for Serbia. We retraced our route up towards Sophia and turned off to Pernik and used slow, local rural roads to skirt around the capital up to Slivnica on the main border road. We posted our postcards at a closed local post office. They never reached the UK so I guess some Bulgarians are still poor.

We crossed at Keotina and it took two hours to cross into Serbia. This was mainly because the immigration official had a nosebleed and would disappear into the main building for ages.

Bulgaria conclusion. I had enjoyed my previous visit eight years ago, which had been quite difficult travelling. Now the travelling was easier. The roads were better and the summer rural scenery in the sunshine was spectacular. The two sights I had chosen, retained their impressiveness. My father really enjoyed Bulgaria. The police retained their presence but supermarkets did not. Bulgarians were very hospitable to tourists and obviously already saw themselves as part of the European Union. It seemed on par with Romania. If you don’t visit it soon, it will lose its uniqueness.

Travel - £ 41.07
Accommodation - £ 47.25
Food - £ 9.45
Other - £ 7.57
Total - £105.34