About The Christopher Deliso Blog

This blog celebrates the singularities and unexpected revelations of the Balkans. That is on the good days. Other times there is just news from the 'industry' and my opinions on it.

Bulgarian Surprises, Part 2

May 23, 2008 • Comments Bulgaria

Now that people are starting to come from the Dnevnik article about me to comment on the first part of this post, it looks like high time for me crank out the second part. And so- we begin.

Up from Devin through Shiroka Luka to Smolyan, the Rhodopi conifers all obediently in rows, trying to burst out. The sky always seems bluer there, though, as I am told it's a 'soft' mountain region, the warmth of the Aegean caressing it from across the south.

In Smolyan, the taxi driver declared his town the only 'gypsy-free town in Bulgaria.' Pamporovo regrettably reminded me of similar overdevelopment of ski resorts in America, all of those property signs and stacks of bricks and apartments they hope someone will buy. Chepelare more authentic, in that run-down former Communist way, and the tourism office providing the (to us) hilarious description of their easier ski trails as 'suitable for women and children.' I should mention that one of the best meals I had in Bulgaria, with friendly service too, was across the river on the 'other' side of town, in the little dining nook knows as the Pelelanovska Konak.

Some other foreigners have not found much to like in Stara Zagora, apparently too 'modern' and bland with its uniform streets and layout. I disagreed. Recalling from my sort of education the importance of the area for Byzantine discoveries inclined me favorably to it from the start, but seeing the lively cafe life and fashionable folk lounging around sealed the deal. I was recently talking with a nice young man in Plovdiv and when we were not discussing the sad parts of Bulgarian history, he recalled the old days - 'before they ruined the Black Sea coast with English people' - when 'we would take the train to the coast with our friends, and always we were waiting for Stara Zagora, because then the Stara Zagora girls would get on headed to their vacations, and soon we would all be drinking on the train and friendly and winding up having a quite nice vacation!'

I enjoyed a beautiful moment of intense rain, it came out of nowhere, and everyone was huddling to get inside or underneath something. I was soaking wet of course, but managed to get under a tree which just meant I was wet in patches. Then it stopped, as suddenly as it had started, and the sun came out and the wetness of the streets gleamed silver and everything was fine fine fine. I got on the train to continue on, but I was alone, and no one was going on Black Sea vacations, only some soldiers inside.

In Sliven I stayed in one of the most impressive traditional hotels I have seen in Bulgaria, the Toma, with its ornate handcarved ceiling and ornate painted walls. It took me a few days to find it, as it had not been in the previous guidebook, and like most good things I found it by accident. Silven was also interesting for the art gallery (nicknamed 'Sirak Skirnik') and I should thank the women there for guiding me through the impressive collection of paintings and icons.

Sliven's open market was perhaps my favorite part of the town; a fantastic mix of old men on bicycles, inexpensive clothes which I still wear today and, somehow, a NATO-EU affairs office meant to enlighten the locals about the wonders of trans-Atlantic integration.

I almost didn't make it to little Kotel but I am very glad that I did. The ride was stunning through the forest and past the horses and grassy fields along the way. The municipal office proved a good substitute for the tourist office which was not open at the time, and I got all the info I needed from the very helpful women there. After rambling around taking photos and taking the pulse of the locals, I noticed the cat on the old scale where the peppers and onions were taking up space, inside the protected residence/shop/cafe that once belonged to 18th-century revolutionary Altanla Stojan Voyvoda- with its animated old drinkers livening the place up. You should also know that the town church does NOT have a Masonic connection (despite the mysteroius triangles)- this is what the church keeper said heatedly.

Now, moving across to Pirin, I noted some of the same overdevelopment issues in Bansko as in Pamporovo, though on a much larger scale, and I was amazed to see this town had around 100 places to stay, and a population of 10,000. I understand that not every business endeavor in Bulgaria functions according to the logic of profit and loss, but it still seemed excessive. One can only hope they learn to diversify the tourism base away from skiing only.

It must be said, and I didn't put this in the book though I almost did, that it is a shame that the town that boasts a new Kempinsky hotel should have the most horrific toilet (at the Bansko train station) I have ever seen. I had to take a picture because nobody would believe me otherwise. Various generations of byproduct bubbled and seethed along with plastics and various other objects in an open area near the track that had apparently once housed a real toilet. There was not even a cavity in the ground. Perhaps the civic authorities have forgotten that not everybody comes by limousine or organized tour bus?

That excepted, the mountains were gorgeous, not only in Bankso and Pirin but in Rila as well. I took the earliest morning bus from the Rila village, leaving the hotel which is old outside but slightly newer inside the rooms, where everyone who stays is exactly on the same pilgrimage as me. The frescoes on the outside walls of the church, featuring the whipping, chaining, roasting and so on of sinners was pure comedy, and it was hard to imagine a time when, God bless their souls, the peasantry would have actually quaked in fear at such vivid displays of the fate that awaited them for sinning. If they had only had Planeta TV in those days!

It is hard to imagine two more contrasting border towns than sleepy Delcevo in Macedonia and booming Blagoevgrad across the line. But that is what two universities will get you. This train line, the one coming from Thessaloniki to Sofia via Blagoevgrad, I should point out, features modern cars with actual electric sockets on the upper part- the first time I have seen such things in the Balkans and good news for my laptop.

Melnik, likeable Melnik, deep in the Pirin sun- everything was quaint, the way a tourist town should be, though some of the people were sad that the town is dying out to regular inhabitants in order to make way for tourists. 'Even the pharmacy has closed,' they lamented.

There was a nice touch, though, in the Kordopulov House, the grand old wine baron's home, where in the end of the warren-like cellar's winding passageways, all the small coins glinted from the soft rock wall where they had been embedded. They had been put there, I was told, by well-wishers who wanted to hope for a good harvest, good rains, etc. This was exactly the kind of interesting little detail that travelers appreciate coming across, and I felt very happy to write about it, as I also had to write the chapter on wine in the Bulgaria guidebook.

There are many other things that could be said but this is all for now. I just want to note again the great kindness and help of the many Bulgarian people I have met (and continue to meet!) and the positive impact this had on me completing my work in a way that, I hope, was relatively successful. The patience and spirit of helpfulness that Bulgarians of all ages and backgrounds offered made a real difference. This is not something that can be said for all countries, by the way. So, once again, blagodariye sitchko.