A Time Stranded – Bulgaria

The end of February. Nearly a month since I left Germany and I found myself crossing frozen mountains in order to get from one capital to another. Skopje was where I’d left, and Sofia was where I was heading. This trip was a little different, though, as I needed to stay in Sofia for about 8 days! The longest I’ve stayed anywhere since Heidelberg. But the reason was good. Something to do with being able to take money out at ATM’s as I continue along in The Journey.

That being said my time staying in Sofia wasn’t so bad. There were plenty of landmarks to sightsee, like this St. Nedelya church that I passed maybe a dozen times yet never went inside. To be fair, Sofia has a ton of houses of God and I did go in several of them.

Church of St. George is one of those such places. It is allegedly the oldest building in all of modern Sofia, having originally been built by the Romans sometime in the 300’s as a pagan temple when Constantine himself resided here. It was converted into a Christian site not too long afterward and has stood in various states of functionality over the centuries. They still use it, too. Inside I found a priest, a person reading from the Bible (not the priest), and a souvenir salesperson.

There was also St. Alexander’s Cathedral. It’s not quite as old as the Church of St. George, only being started in 1882, but it’s the seat of the Patriarchy of Bulgaria in the Orthodox faith and until 2000 it was the largest Orthodox Cathedral in the world. The inside was indeed impressive though I’ll apologize now and let you know I have no photos of that because the right to do so cost $5 which I don’t agree with on principle – God cares not for tithes. Personally I prefer the outside of the cathedral much more to what can be found on the inside anyway.

The day I went about and did all of the churches just so happened to be on Bulgarian Liberation Day. This fact didn’t hit me until about halfway through the day. Before then all I noticed were lots of people hanging out outside, more police than usual on the streets, and tons of Bulgarian flags. For most of the day I innocently thought “wow, the Bulgarians are such a patriotic people, waving their flags around on a random Tuesday.” When I went to check out the Archeology Museum and noticed it lacked an entry fee, that was when it hit me – they were all celebrating the establishment of their independent nation in 1878.

Speaking of the Archeology Museum, this is not it. Several days before, on my second day in the city, I decided I might as well begin my time in Sofia at their National History Museum. Anyone who knows me, or even anyone who just reads this blog, will know history is a big thing for me, as are museums. This museum is pretty far out of town (40mins by tram) and currently exists within the former residence of the last communist dictator. Let me say, that guy had style.

The museum breaks down Bulgarian history into about four different sections. Now, many of you have probably never heard of Bulgarian history, which is a massive shame because their history is quite fascinating; it has long been something I look into from time to time because of its twists and turns. For instance, the Bulgarians are currently a Slavic people, but Bulgar is originally the name for a Turkic tribe of steppe nomads, meaning their name isn’t really their own just that of the ruling class which assimilated to those people over which they ruled. It’s believed their homeland is somewhere north of the Caspian Sea which they left around 680AD to carve out some lands from the Romans in order to rule half of the Balkans and most of Romania. They also went off and made a different kingdom in what is now Russia. Both states did pretty well for a time, though both came to be dominated by other empires. In the 1870’s they finally wrestled their current independence from the Ottomans after tag-teaming with Russia. Since then they’ve kind of been kicked around while greater powers meddle in Balkan affairs. All of this is covered on about half the second floor, and all the third floor of the museum.

I, primarily, care about ancient history, however. Before the Ottomans or Bulgars, Romans or Greeks, in what is now Bulgaria was once the Thracians. A cultural group with somewhat mysterious origins. They were first mentioned by Homer in the Illiad fighting alongside the Trojans. Historically, they play a part in probably every major history epoch that you do know about from the wars between the Greeks and Persians, to the wars between Athens and Sparta, to Alexander and the wars following his death, and then finally with the Romans. They were not meant to last, unfortunately, surrounded on all sides by other, ultimately more successful, cultures.

The proof of them would not vanish, though. The museum had a stunning amount of the most beautiful silversmithing I have personally ever seen. I marveled at their work for far longer than any other part of the museum. I have no idea how they got the gold to overlay atop the silver, but it is insanely aesthetically pleasing to me. This is far from the only example. Dozens of different pieces of artwork filled the hall dedicated to the ancient past. Many of the pieces happened to include horses because of a cultural god of theirs known as Heros. What do you know, artwork like this stopped being presented once the history shifted to the Roman period, though Heros stayed around for a little while longer, and today some people think part of the Thracians live on in the modern Albanians.

I stayed inside the museum for probably two and a half hours and once I exited this was what greeted me. Luckily by this point, the worst of it had stopped falling from the sky, but there was a good half an inch on the ground which is really saying something considering the only other snow I’d found that deep in Europe this entire trip was in the Black Forest, and that this came down so quickly.

As I walked along the highway to reach the tram that would take me back to my hostel that day, dodging mud sprayed from passing cars driving through the melted-snow formed puddles the entire time, I found a small yet fancy-looking restaurant nearby. I stepped inside in search of a respite from the brown water making its way from the road to my pants. I ordered creamed rabbit with mushrooms, bacon, and a side of creamy potatoes. I had no idea rabbit was popular enough in Bulgaria to be served in restaurants, so that’s why I ordered it! The dish itself cost 9 Bulgarian Leva, or about $4.25. It was pretty damn good. I’ve only ever eaten rabbit head before – due to Chengdu food customs – so having this was a cool new experience. I found it really odd because the meat reminded me so much of turkey meat in flavor, though it clearly was not from that bird. Once upon a time I spoke with someone who was wondering if the world could be changed to have Rottissery Rabbit be a common western staple food one could buy at supermarkets, and after eating this meal I can understand why they might want to see that change come about.

Here we have an unfortunately fuzzy photo (due to odd phone shenanigans on my part) of a nice group that formed on my second to last day. You have Ines on the left – a Pole living in the deep north of Scotland – Me, Jonathan – another American who travels and studies – and Anja – a German almost-doctor taking a long weekend for travel. Wonderful people who all decided that day was a good one to hike a mountain, Mount Vitosha to be precise. We’d heard of a Waterfall but ultimately decided to make our way to the Golden Bridges because of how beautiful the hike was purported to be.

What began as a fairly muddy yet snowless hike at the base of the mountain rapidly became colder and icier throughout our ascent. We had not anticipated any such thing, which was reflected in the fact that most of us wore sneakers. Mine were running shoes with a mesh for aerodynamics that did nothing to keep out the cold of the air nor the damp of the snow; by the time we reached the top, I could hardly feel anything of my feet, the socks being soaked through.

But I’ll be damned if the hike was anything if not beautiful. Here the snow was at least an inch deep, breaching even the ridge of our shoes at the ankle. Every piece of foliage was covered in a soft powdery blanket of the fluffy white stuff. We noticed nearer to the top that we were actually inside of a cloud that made its way between all things: the sun was unseeable, and trees in the distance rapidly became obscured the farther off they were. All of it together made for peaceful solitude shielded from the cacophony and restless bustle of the city below. At one moment we all stood silent for maybe 30 seconds and, to my ears, there was not a sound to be heard.

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We also had a ton of fun at various places along the route. Silly photos, nature, chats. It was a wonderful experience I had with these three other people just hanging out as we steadily lost our warmth and footing in the deeper and deeper snow piles.

At one point we got barked at by a pack of random dogs on the mountain! We weren’t sure where they came from, but it did worry us for a brief amount of time. Those dogs weren’t these two cuties who greeted us happily near our destination.

There was also a horse riding service we hadn’t known about. If I had there’s a really good chance I would have taken the opportunity to ride around the mountain on one. These four looked to be having a blast and I can hardly think of a better way to make it all feel more like an adventure.

Close to the end of the hike we discovered a Diner on the map and quickly made our way there for a break and hopefully some food. It had such character. All they had was bean or mushroom soup for food, but they had hot chocolate. We warmed as an American movie with some of the worst dubbing I’ve ever heard in my life played on a TV nearby. The older man who served us was very nice, if a little perplexed that four foreigners had shown up out of the snow.

And here it is, the Golden Bridges! No bridge, which confused us greatly! Why call it Golden Bridges if there were none to be seen? It’s a “stone river,” or a long chain of boulders descending down the mountain. You probably can’t see that because of the snow and neither could we, really. We decided that the Golden Bridges must be the bridges of friendship we formed along the way, and friendship is more valuable than gold!

Turns out the name actually comes from a gold-colored lichen that grows on top of the boulders during the summer.

As soon as I arrived back at the hostel that day my salvation had come! The package I’d been waiting for arrived and the next day I’d be able to leave Sofia! I strongly considered sticking around one extra night to spend more time with the friends I’d made, but in the end the allure of the sea was too strong. So the next afternoon I hopped on a bus and made my way to Burgas. Originally I debated between going to Varna or Burgas to see the sea, Burgas won out because I recall seeing on maps that it was once a Greek colony.

Turns out it wasn’t fully a colony, and rather small in its day. I was shocked to see lots of information scattered around the city indicating it wasn’t really established until about 1891, after which it took off as a very important industrial and trade center for Bulgaria.

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It was absolutely a nice looking city, and the lack of real age was pretty evident in the streets I walked down. Everything looked too new and fairly well taken care of compared to the other cities in Europe I’ve visited. Time hadn’t had long enough to make anything look significantly aged.

The beach was also littered with shacks like this. It’s far too early in the season for people to come here on vacation, which seems to be the main focus for the city in this day and age. To me it seemed maybe half the businesses along the main strip were closed because tourism wasn’t in full swing at this time of the year. Which makes sense because the water is pretty cold. One dude was actually swimming, but I don’t think I’d be able to join him unless coaxed into it through means I can’t imagine right now.

I also found black sand there on its shores. Reasons for the name “Black Sea” aren’t entirely conclusive, and when I saw this my first thought was that the sand and the name were connected. But I have no prior knowledge or research into the subject, I just thought it was a really cool thing to find.

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Finishing off my time in Bulgaria I ordered a really nice lunch at a place called 8 Mama’s. The left is some traditional Bulgarian BBQ, though I believe it has inspiration from Turkish and Serbian cuisines, or vice-a-versa. On the right you have about half a pound of mussels cooked in butter and thyme. Both of these, including the coffee, cost me $13.80 and it was something like a 1 and 3/4 pound of food. Those mussels were fresh people, and there were three kinds of animals making up that meat. It was much more money than I’d have preferred spending but I thought it was entirely worth it for what I got.

Spending 11 days in Bulgaria was not the plan, but the experience was anything but bad. From amazing and cheap food, to frozen hikes with new friends, churches and new seas, I quite liked the country. There were also more Americans here than anywhere else I’ve visited in the last 8 months, for what reason I do not know! Whatever the reason, Bulgaria is a country that attracts all sorts, and for good reason. Getting on a bus in Burgas in search of new adventures I rethought my time on the European part of The Journey and one thought came strongly to me: of all the countries I’ve visited in Europe so far, it was probably the one I’d have been happiest to have spent so much time in stranded.