Bus to Bulgaria
Bus to Bulgaria. The young Pom I chatted to at the bus station had been to Albania before Macedonia and he reckoned he'd never been so happy to leave a country. I'll have to move it even higher on my list of countries to go to.
On the way to Sofia there were more rolling hills, valleys, babbling brooks... Lovely.
And at least here there's a proper border - that's what traveling's all about. Passport control - all that sort of stuff out of the old spy movies. Thet's when you know you've had the proper travel experience.
Interesting taxi trip from the bus-station. I couldn't find a meter in the taxi but finally I saw one but it was just about impossible to read. We hadn't got very far and the meter was already showing over 35 dollars! Thinking something must be wrong I rang the Esperantist and he reckoned the cost to his place wouldn't even be ten Lev! The fare ended up being over 55 dollars! Anyway, first he dropped me off in the middle of some block and said he couldn't find the address. I told him I thought something was wrong and refused to pay till my Esperantist said everything was ok, So now he puts my stuff into the taxi after I'd rung the Esperantist and arranged to meet him at such and such a place. Again he drops me off and when I again refused to pay he suddenly knew where the bloke was waiting. Anyway, my 70 year old Esperantist told him that he was trying to rip me off - but he'd take his details and if he came with him he'd pay him. When we got to his place his mate was there waiting and although he's 74 he looks like he wouldn't put up with crap from anyone. We ended up settling on a ten dollar fare. These two Bulgarians declared the taxi-driver to be a gypsy. So my gypsy cab-driver was a real gypsy.
Here's the Esperantist's friend who saved me from the robber taxi-driver.
The Esperantist is a former Mig and helicopter pilot, and his mate graduated from the same flying school in the same year and used to fly Tanzanian politicians around. Quite interesting. And no joke - he has an African accent when he speaks English.
What I remember from 7 years ago is still there. A boulevard of absolutely magnificent buildings. Paris but without the crowds.
The Russian cathedral which so impressed me years ago when I was here. Absolutely eerie when you approach it on a deserted Sunday morning with the choir singing inside.
Apparently this is where the king used to hang out when Bulgaria still had one. The current bloke in line to the throne apparently wants his house back - I can't really see it happening.
And yet another impressive building nearby. This time I think it's the parliament.
On the way to Sofia there were more rolling hills, valleys, babbling brooks... Lovely.
And at least here there's a proper border - that's what traveling's all about. Passport control - all that sort of stuff out of the old spy movies. Thet's when you know you've had the proper travel experience.
Interesting taxi trip from the bus-station. I couldn't find a meter in the taxi but finally I saw one but it was just about impossible to read. We hadn't got very far and the meter was already showing over 35 dollars! Thinking something must be wrong I rang the Esperantist and he reckoned the cost to his place wouldn't even be ten Lev! The fare ended up being over 55 dollars! Anyway, first he dropped me off in the middle of some block and said he couldn't find the address. I told him I thought something was wrong and refused to pay till my Esperantist said everything was ok, So now he puts my stuff into the taxi after I'd rung the Esperantist and arranged to meet him at such and such a place. Again he drops me off and when I again refused to pay he suddenly knew where the bloke was waiting. Anyway, my 70 year old Esperantist told him that he was trying to rip me off - but he'd take his details and if he came with him he'd pay him. When we got to his place his mate was there waiting and although he's 74 he looks like he wouldn't put up with crap from anyone. We ended up settling on a ten dollar fare. These two Bulgarians declared the taxi-driver to be a gypsy. So my gypsy cab-driver was a real gypsy.
Here's the Esperantist's friend who saved me from the robber taxi-driver.
The Esperantist is a former Mig and helicopter pilot, and his mate graduated from the same flying school in the same year and used to fly Tanzanian politicians around. Quite interesting. And no joke - he has an African accent when he speaks English.
What I remember from 7 years ago is still there. A boulevard of absolutely magnificent buildings. Paris but without the crowds.
The Russian cathedral which so impressed me years ago when I was here. Absolutely eerie when you approach it on a deserted Sunday morning with the choir singing inside.
Apparently this is where the king used to hang out when Bulgaria still had one. The current bloke in line to the throne apparently wants his house back - I can't really see it happening.
And yet another impressive building nearby. This time I think it's the parliament.
posted by Budz at 7:07 AM
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