So much of what I loved in Bulgaria could not be photographed – the beautiful insides of cathedrals – but there is still much to share from a country that opened my eyes to a culture of which I had not been familiar.
First of all: where we lived for a week — a unit at Balkan Jewel Resort. Unlike the sites in Portugal, Austria, and France, there was an intimacy in its very design. Its U shape embraced not only the pool, playground, and restaurant, but also the people. The sense of community was powerful, perhaps a result of the country’s history.
The following photo is a view from our balcony where the only table available encouraged us to be outside and in the company of others.
Near our resort was evidence of another, sadder, fact of the country’s current situation. Nearby there were so many buildings — intended resorts, I think — that were left unfinished, no doubt when funds ran out with the most recent recession.
There was optimism as well in the new construction we saw, especially at the Melnik winery.
We arrived at an unscheduled time, but were kindly given a tour by the owner and her son. Not a thing was missing, at least from our point of view, including elevators taking us to various levels of the building where we had excellent views of the workings. The winery is built on land that belonged to the family for years counted in the hundreds, removed at one point into the Ottoman empire and later into the communist state, but ultimately returned.
The best part of the tour was the graciousness of Luka and her son Alex. Luka understood English and, I suspect, could speak it better than her confidence allowed, but Alex served as a really competent interpreter. (I think the English he knew was British English.)
Especially delightful was the private wine tasting, with mother and son hosting mother and son. (I’m not in the following picture for the obvious reason that I’m taking the photo.)
The wine was excellent and the price was right given the dollar/Lev exchange rate.
We were not allowed to leave without being gifted a fresh melon and bunches of grapes Doug got to pick when escorted by Alex on a visit to the vineyards.
Our next stop was the Rozhen monastery.
Of course, we were not allowed to photograph the insides, but I did sneak a peek into the chapel. The murals were outstanding, and I did get to photograph some on the outside as well.
The next day’s visit to the Rila Monastery was extremely moving for me. Still a bustlingly active monastery, it was here, as I understand it, that, under the protection of the Ottoman empire, Bulgarian art, history, religion, and culture were preserved for the 500 years of Turkish rule. The cathedral was beyond moving with its typically, but more-so, ornate physical interior and lovely chanting during what apparently were repeated sequential masses.
People were receiving the host with tears so meaningful it evoked the same from my eyes. It seemed like a visit to Mecca for Muslims, or to the Church of the Nativity in Israel for Christians.
I wanted a photo of the inside so badly, but none were available, not even on postcards at the souvenir counter outside. That, I believe, reflects the sacredness of the spot.
But I was able to photograph some of the external murals.
We spent the next to the last day in Bulgaria just hanging out because our planned tour was cancelled by the guide. It turns out the heat was too extreme. It was only when we got home that we realized we’d been living in a heat wave. Having too much of a good time to notice, I guess. But we were pretty much ready to ease off at that point.
And Doug managed a creative meal with one frying pan and one large pot.
Served on our delightful cozy deck.
Our final full day was spent in Bansko where there were some noteworthy things to record. One reminded me of the springs of mountain water we used to enjoy in Vermont, but much more central water supplies in the city.
And there was the recycling,
Especially beautiful everywhere, I thought, were the tile decorations as part of the architecture. Here is the second floor of one of the businesses. From another angle it’s included in the new header.
We also had the good luck to arrive in Bansko on the day of the international jazz festival. Our first inkling was the set up below.
And then front row seats (because we got there early) just behind the VIP section. The entire program was in English – I guess because jazz is primarily an American product.
We elected to stay in a hotel in Sofia the night before our flight home. On the way we intended to stop at a couple of recommended sites. One we never did find, which points up how terrible the signage is. It’s not just that the signs are not in English, there just was no clear indication at all. We missed one place totally, but quite by accident we did hit upon the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, one of the largest Eastern Orthodox Cathedrals in the world. Built to honor the dead in the war which liberated Bulgaria from Ottoman rule, it is truly an awesome sight — in the original sense of the word.
As with the cathedral at the Rila monastery, we were not allowed to take photos inside, and again I found no postcards or other sources of pictures. To tell the truth, though, it didn’t evoke the emotional reaction I experienced at the Rila Monastery with it’s place in Bulgarian history.
It was at this site that we experienced a rather sour ending to our journey. We were on a large plaza surrounding this tourist attraction. Seeing a lovely restaurant we decided to have lunch before leaving the area. We carefully moved the car to an area where there was nothing to indicate that parking was banned. And we avoided areas where signs that clearly indicated restriction to handicapped parking. Consider that we were on a plaza where tourists were clearly expected.
But after lunch we came out to find that our rental car had been booted.
Not knowing the language, and having no functioning cell phone, we had to rely on the folks at the restaurant to call the indicated number for us. The three minute wait we were promised became twenty minutes before the authorities came. We had to pay a fine of 32 lev (not a huge amount) but credit cards were rarely accepted in Bulgaria, and we had been spending down our levs, so Doug was sent off to an ATM machine while the boot cops went off to free someone else, returning after about fifteen minutes to accept the levs Doug had acquired.
In the meantime, folks passing by expressed sympathy, and I searched but found nothing that looked like a “No Parking” sign. It turns out we should just have known that, to park in Sophia, one has to text the police and buy a one or two hour permit. Hardly a possibility for tourists like us with our language and cell phone limitations. It was clear there was no eagerness to make tourists feel welcome.
Still, I’d happily return for another visit with our new awareness. And, at the hotel restaurant we were treated very kindly by the host who brought us tap water and veggies even though we had declined to order them. With a smile, he indicated he knew we were almost out of levs. (Remember, credit cards are generally not acceptable.)
And so ended our four-week European adventure,with fond memories of Bulgaria in spite of the sour note at the end.
I won’t even bore you with the problems with our flight home. Well, just a hint, we were scheduled to fly from Paris to Minneapolis on a flight number that didn’t exist. Actually, we were lucky to get one the same day. Delta did give us some flight miles, but the truth is it was the fault of the travel agency, not the airline. So, thank you Delta.
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