Why, oh why am I in Bulgaria? It’s not exactly a happening hotspot like Amsterdam or Dublin. I don’t speak a word of Bulgarian and I had no idea if English was widely spoken. So why?
A couple reasons. One my favorite travel bloggers spends a lot
of time there and really likes it. Granted,
she stayed in a mountainside village called Bansk and Sofia is the capital, but
still, I wanted to get a sense of the country.
I am trying to work my way down to Southeast Asia and Sofia is a nice
stopping point between there and The Netherlands. And also, there’s Schengen.
Now’s a good time to explain the Schengen contract that exists
in Europe. There are roughly 30 countries
in Western Europe that have entered into an agreement where anyone in those
countries can freely work, travel, and live in any other Schengen country
without having to worry about visas or passport control. All the big dogs are in the contract; France,
Italy, Germany, Spain, Greece, Portugal, the Netherlands, and a bunch of others. The British Isles are not part of the
contract nor is India, Asia or any of the African nations. For anyone who isn’t in this contract, there
are restrictions placed on how long you can stay in any of these countries. For Americans, you can only stay for 90 days
out of 180. Then when your time is up,
you have to leave those countries for another 3 months before returning. I spent a month in Greece, a month in Portugal,
and a week in Amsterdam so by my count I have roughly 3 weeks left. I figure to get my three months in Southeast
Asia, New Zealand, and Australia before returning to a Schengen country.
But first, Bulgaria.
Not in Schengen and Americans can stay in the country for 30 days without
a visa. So. Why not?
I could quickly tell that Bulgaria was not a hotspot for
tourism. I flew into the country on Bulgaria
Air – an airline that didn’t even have their own kiosk at Schiphol. The lady checking in my baggage had to climb
over the counter to get some luggage tags from British Air since she didn’t have
any. Didn’t make me very confident about
my flight. But I arrived in Sofia’s tiny
airport with zero incidents. And the chocolate
they give you on the plane is pretty tasty.
My first view of Sofia, Bulgaria gave me some serious Athens vibes and not in a good way. Crowded streets, graffiti covered buildings, and the look of soot on everything. Not nearly as much trash as in Athens but I still got that vibe.
Like in Lisbon, the apartment I rented for the week doesn’t look like much from the outside, just a gate on the side of a building with peeling stucco in the middle of the block. But the apartment itself is just as advertised; a studio with a full kitchen, living room and a tiny laundry room. It was clean and beautifully decorated. I was pleasantly surprised.
The place is also an easy walk to the commercial center of
the city. Plenty of restaurants, shops,
and bars that are always busy unless it’s raining. The rain was part of my bad impression of the
city. I arrived when everything was gray
and drizzly, and it stayed that way off and on for most of the week. Fortunately, enough people speak English to where communicating wasn't too much of a problem.
Since I was still nursing my sore throat, I thought it best to stay out of the rain as much as possible. That’s always hard to do when I first arrive since I want to scope out the grocery stores and get a lay of the land. Scouting around for food, I passed by a restaurant called Happy that had a huge picture menu outside. Went to reception and the woman asked me something that I don’t think I’ve heard in my adult life; smoking or non-smoking. Oh. Smoking is still a thing in restaurants here. That’s not good.
The restaurant was just as huge as the menu as I was
directed from one receptionist to another who showed me to my table in the
back. In looking at the waitresses, I
got the impression that this place was the Bulgarian version of Hooters. All the ladies were young, pretty, and tiny. Their uniforms consisted of plaid shirts and
short, tight, red skirts (and the skirts had to be tight if even I’m
noticing all the butts).
The menu there, as in most places in Bulgaria, is huge and
varied. They’ll have Bulgarian dishes,
of course, but also American, Greek, sushi, pizza – it’s nuts. In Happy, I ordered a Bulgarian dish and some
Asian bread, doing dinner international style.
I quickly got in the habit of looking at the people sitting in the tented off eating areas along the pedestrian walkway. If I saw an ash tray or a pack of cigarettes, I looked for another place. Other than the quick takeout places, this left me with few options. I guessed that I’d have to figure out another of those convection stovetops if I wanted to feed myself. (Nope. Never did figure that thing out.)
Another issue with the restaurants in Sofia. I swear, any time I walked into one, it’s
like I caught the staff off guard or something.
They act like “oh. You want to
eat here?” Um. Yeah.
You are an open restaurant, right?
You do serve food? First instinct
is to think it’s a race issue, but somehow, I don’t think it is. That’s just how the staff are here. Doesn’t mean they aren’t polite or efficient,
just kind of detached. Made me even less
willing to leave the comfy apartment, so I lived off a casserole I made one
night.
And then there’s this sign on the restaurant just steps from
my apartment. Yeah. I’m not that adventurous of an eater.
I had determined, upon seeing the apartment, that I could
hang out here for a while. Save me from
getting on a plane in a week’s time. The
first night in the place had me reconsidering.
1) The apartment is next door to a bar.
I saw the tiny outside seating area when the host showed me the place,
but didn’t think anything of it. Until
the shouting and laughing and arguing started.
It lasted for hours. Then, after
a period of quiet 2) the dogs started howling.
I’d noticed that there were many people walking dogs around the square. Didn’t realize it would be a problem until
that night. And then, after another brief break 3) the cats decided to make
their presence known by yowling just outside my window. I was already sleeping in a strange bed in a
strange place, I still had the sore throat, and the noise gave me the worst
headache. That first night was not fun.
The following nights weren’t nearly as bad, but the place was still noisy as hell. It seemed like there was a speakeasy coming from one side of the building. Jazzy piano music (well-played, don’t get me wrong) alternating with a flute came from the left of the apartment. Loud shouting came from the right, making me think there were guys playing video games. And then there was always noise from the bar at night. The picture below is my view from the apartment of the back deck of the bar.
My second morning in Bulgaria, after finally getting some
real rest, I figured out my issue with Sofia; there’s no water there. Other than the rain of the first two days and
a couple of fountains, the city has no major water source. If it couldn’t be determined from my choice
of places to go, I really like being near large bodies of water. Amsterdam with its canals, Dublin’s location
beside the river Laffey, the Greek Isles (obviously), and, of course, my plan
to move to Madeira. Water makes me
happy. It is no longer acceptable to be apart from it.
So even though Sofia has more of a sense of life than
Athens, it’s still not high on my list of favorite places. It does get points over Athens in that it has
a couple of great parks. Green spaces
are always a plus in my book.
And then there are the roses. Bulgaria is known for its roses. There are everywhere. Any time I went into a souvenir shop, the first thing that hit me was the smell of roses. There were soaps, oils, skincare products, you name it. That smell always made for a pleasant shopping experience.
The influence of America in Europe continues to amaze me. I’ve already mentioned the American music everywhere. You have no idea how surreal it is to be in a Bulgarian bookshop called Orange and hear Chop Suey by System of a Down come on over the speakers. It is bizarre! Add that to the English signage everywhere, English phrases on people’s clothing, and the American products and restaurants that have creeped into the culture and it feels more like a spreading cancer than a nice touch for tourists. McDonald’s continues to have its greasy mitts in every culture along with Starbucks and Dominos.
Hey, I also have a clothing store to go with my restaurant in Greece! Cool!
Despite my issues with Sofia as a whole, I enjoyed my time in the apartment. It was a top five for accommodations on this journey. I wanted to extend my stay, but the place was booked. The owner offered me another one of his six (!) places, but only for a couple of days. I declined and prepared to make another move.