The underrated country
Bulgaria is one of the most underrated countries in Europe. I am not the first person to say this and may not be the last.
By the time I am writing this I have been to 73 countries and territories. When I go to a new place I often ask myself the same question “would I want to live here?” The answer is “it is great to visit and to spend some time, but not to live here”. So far Bulgaria is the only country where the answer is “yes”. It is also the only country that I visited multiple times.
Here are some basic facts about Bulgaria.
The country is a member of the European Union. It is not in the Schengen area; however it accepts Schengen visas unilaterally since 2014. Bulgaria still is not in the euro zone. Their currency, the lev, is pegged to the euro. Some prices like hotel rates are in the euro. Taxi drivers take euros too. Dollars and other currencies are not accepted. Leva (plural for lev) are needed for most purchases and public transport.
Don’t worry about the language barrier. There is always someone around who speaks English and can help with directions and other questions. Look for younger people; they are more likely to speak English. The older generation often speaks Russian. It is the legacy of the Soviet times when Russian was taught as a second language at most schools. If you speak Russian, don’t expect to understand Bulgarian despite similarities between these two languages.
Restaurant menus can be in 2-3 languages. English translations are sometimes funny. One 
menu offered on its front page DAILY PROPOSALS that meant TODAY’S SPECIALS. Here is another popular sign that advertises rooms for rent.
Bulgarians do not smile as readily as Americans or Western Europeans, but do not be deceived by their serious looks. They are kind and warm-hearted people.
Trip 1, 2012
It is all started when a family friend told us that he bought an apartment in Bulgaria for summer vacations. He showed us photos of the apartment complex under construction. They did not look interesting. We made a few polite remarks, congratulated our friend on his purchase and forgot about it.
A year passed, then another. Our friend and his family spent their first summer in the new apartment by the Black sea. He was visiting us in Colorado again.
‘Look, you really need to check out this place,’ he said. ‘It’s magical’.
‘What place?’ asked I.
He spelled the name for me, ‘B-y-a-l-a’. I googled it.
Byala (Бяла) turned out to be a small town in Varna province with population of 2,000 (not to be confused with another Byala in Ruse province which is not on the seashore). The name means “white” in Bulgarian. I looked at some pictures of the town online. Somehow they caught my attention. Three months later I found myself still researching information on Byala. One day I leisurely wondered how much it would cost to fly there and to see the place for myself. It was August and therefore the high season. A quick search for flights on the United website revealed that I had enough frequent flyer miles to go to Bulgaria in mid-September. The flights were Denver – Washington, D.C. – Vienna – Varna, three legs with short layovers. On the spur of the moment I bought the tickets.
‘I am going to Byala for a few days,’ announced I to my husband when he came home from work.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ he went straight to the point.
‘No, why?’
‘Because you will not like it’.
My husband Sergey is a more seasoned traveler than I. His list of visited countries has over 100 names. He did a stopover in Sofia once. At the railway station he was surrounded by gypsy women who insisted on foretelling his fortune. Sergey escaped from them without learning his fate and with his money intact. The historic city center was good, but rather small. He left Bulgaria by train the same day with the verdict that this country was not worth visiting.
While I value my husband’s opinion I do not always listen to him. Perhaps half a day in Sofia was not long enough to get to know Bulgaria. I decided to go to Byala anyway. With the tickets in hand it was time to take care of the trip logistics.
It looked like the company called IBG was the main developer in Byala. I contacted them through their website. They responded quickly. Nikolay Kolev, the marketing director, arranged a rental apartment that cost 100 euros for 5 nights. Airport transfers and property tours were free. My husband helpfully emailed me links to webpages with stories about people who wanted to invest into real estate in Bulgaria. These people paid deposits, and the apartment complexes were either never built or their construction had begun, then the developer ran out of funds and the project was abandoned. Some people managed to recover their money, others did not. Well, I decided to go anyway and to see everything for myself.
The flight to Varna was uneventful. Nikolay picked me up at the airport and drove 50 km (31 mi) to Byala. He gave me the key from a 1-bedroom apartment, quickly explained the basics about Byala and left. The apartment was spacious enough, clean and with a sea view.
It was late afternoon. I needed to get some leva and have dinner before going to bed. Nikolay showed me where the only bank and ATM in Byala were located. I walked to it because there is no public transport in Byala. A small café on the neighboring street looked attractive. A hearty dinner there cost me only a few dollars. Fortified by the meal, I bought bread, ham and cheese from a tiny grocery. Several teabags always travel with me. A cup of tea and 2 sandwiches was all that I needed for breakfast.
Satisfied with everything, I headed towards my temporary home to get good night sleep, but where was it? Sure, I looked at the street name before leaving it, but I already forgot it. While I ate, it became as dark as it can only be in the southern latitudes, the kind of darkness that blinds you. The main street Chernomorka was brightly illuminated, but side streets were not. They looked different after the sunset and I could not recognize any of them. A few people leisurely strolled along Chernomorka enjoying a warm and quiet evening. I decided not to bother them with stupid questions like how to find my apartment, since I could not provide any details about it. Soon all passersby disappeared and the streets became deserted. I felt a surge of panic and embarrassment at the same time. My sense of direction was never good. I envy my husband who can navigate in an unfamiliar area as if he had a built-in compass in his he
ad. But to get lost in a small town like Byala was too much even for me.
The prospect of spending the night outdoors under the bright Black sea stars kicked my survival instinct into a high gear. Earlier in the day I noticed a gully that divides Byala into two parts. I figured out that I needed to be on the other side of the gully and to go up the slope. There are only two bridges across the gully in Byala ‒ the fact that I did not know at that time. I stumbled around pretty small houses in the dark going in circles until I came to one of the bridges. My heart rejoiced at the sight of it. At least I was going to be on the correct side of the gully. I tried several streets that led up and finally discovered my apartment building on one of them. Exhausted from my wandering and the flight, I made the bed, fell into it and slept like a log.
A jetlag is rarely a problem for me. Next morning I woke up refreshed and ready for act
ion. The beach was the first thing on my mind when I got up. After a quick breakfast I hurried down to the sea with a towel.
Byala is a vacation place for families with children. By September they are all gone, although the weather and the sea remain pleasantly warm. I got to the beach and gasped. It was the dream came true. The beach was narrow, but looked pristine even though it was a town beach.
It was sandy mixed with little shells and flat smooth pebbles that are so wonderful to hold. And it was all mine because nobody was around. The water was transparent and I could see the bottom anywhere I looked. Without further delay I threw myself into the water. It was refreshing and filled me with energy. I am not a good swimmer, but rather “a floater” as one person put it which means I can keep my head above water provided that the sea is calm. Despite my swimming skills I enjoy being in water. After a nice swim I rushed back to the apartment to get myself ready for a property tour.
Nikolay came as agreed and drove me around Byala. We stopped at several IBG complexes; some were completed years ago, others were under construction. In each complex all apartments were sold except for 2 or 3 that did not find a buyer yet. Needless to say, they were not the best. I did not like them for a number of reasons. Nikolay sighed. I was not going 
to be an easy customer. We decided to break for lunch and Nikolay took me to his favorite place in Byala – a fish restaurant called The Seagull (Чайка) where we enjoyed an excellent meal and did a lot of talking.
There was more property showing after the lunch. None of it was close to what I wanted. Nikolay suggested on the following day to see apartments in Obzor (Обзор), the town that is 5 km (3 mi) from Byala. Only in the morning he needed to show a house in a small village to a couple from Russia. He asked if I did not mind to go with him to that house first. Of course, I did not mind. Why would I miss a chance to have a look at a Bulgarian village?
Next day we went to that charming little village. The house for sale was brand new, built from stone and timber in the traditional Bulgarian style. It would look attractive if the foundation of the old house had not been sticking out in the front yard like an eyesore. The land around was covered with overgrown blackberry bushes and pumpkin vines. The Russian couple came in a rental car. They inspected the house and quickly rejected it. The wife explained that they had a disabled son who needed a quiet place to live, fresh air and organic food. The village fitted the description, but the property did not and the couple was not prepared to spend their time and money on clearing the plot.
Our next stop was Obzor. The town’s name means “view” in Bulgarian. It is a much larger town with proper shops, supermarkets, banks, a bus station and people on the streets. Obzor lacks Byala’s rustic charm and I was set against buying anything in it even before I saw the apartments. I obediently followed Nikolay from one building to another until I finally confessed that nothing in Obzor was likely to interest me. He probably figured out this himself by the time I said that.
On the way back to Byala I mentioned to Nikolay that I was not able to get access to the Internet anywhere. My husband did not hear from me since I left America and I knew he was worried like hell. Byala did not have restaurants and hotels with Wi-Fi. That’s because everyone had the Internet at home and therefore there was no need for it in public places. My rental apartment, however, did not have an Internet connection. Nikolay promised to help. In Byala he took me to a gated complex where he was greeted like an old friend. I was immediately provided with the Wi-Fi password there and a map of Byala which was great given my “adventures” on the first night.
Before leaving Nikolay asked me about my plans for the next day. IBG had nothing else to offer me and we were not going to do more property inspections. I said that I wanted to go the market in Obzor to browse the stalls and perhaps to buy something to remind me of Bulgaria. In a tone that brooked no contradiction Nikolay told me that he would drive me to Obzor. He needed to be there on business anyway. He would leave me at the market and pick up in two hours. Nikolay seriously doubted that I was capable of going there by myself. It is true that I get lost sometimes even in familiar places. At the same time I travel the world and so far I always found the way home. I tried to explain to him that I could take the bus or even walk to Obzor, but it was no use. I gave up.
That night I finally was able to speak with my husband and to retell him everything what happened in Bulgaria. Sergey was relieved to hear from me, although he did not sound sincere when he sympathized with me that I did not find a property to buy.
Next morning Nikolay and I went to Obzor again. He dropped me off at the bus station and left. I copied the bus timetable into my notebook and walked to the market.
Bulgaria is called “the land of roses”. It is number one producer of rose oil in the world. Rose oil is used as a base element in cosmetics and perfumery. It takes up to 5 tons of rose petals to produce 1 kg (2.2 lbs) of rose oil which makes it rather expensive. Nevertheless products with rose oil are great souvenirs from Bulgaria. The market shops were filled with them. Another category of popular products is leather goods. I mean genuin
e leather. Shoes, wallets, purses and belts made of leather were everywhere in a wide variety. As for me I fell in love with distinctively different Bulgarian pottery and textiles. After some deliberation I bought a small ceramic bowl. Bulgarian beautiful pottery is dinnerware meant for everyday use and I wanted to bring home an item that would not collect dust on the shelf.
Nikolay picked me up at the intersection and drove to Byala. We said good-bye to each other. Someone else from IBG was going to take to the airport in 2 days.
I already knew that Chernomorka is the place to eat in Byala. Every time I tried a new restaurant and I liked all of them. Bulgarian cuisine is tasty and healthy. It is a variety of vegetables salads with feta cheese or yogurt. Fish was always fresh caught the same day, never frozen. Fishing boats were seen early in the morning from the beach. Meat, usually chicken or pork, was also good. Soups were of three different kinds – fish, chicken and tarator. The latter became my favorite. It was simply strained yogurt with a bit of crushed garlic, dill, walnuts and chopped cucumbers served cold – perfect in hot weather. After the meal I went to a grocery shop to buy fresh fruit that I ate on the beach or in my room. Sometimes I allowed myself a treat – a cup of aromatic coffee or ice-cream, or both.
Done with the business part of my trip, I switched to sightseeing. Next day I took the bus first from Byala to Obzor, then from Obzor to Nesebar (Несебър). The bus ride was about 2 hours.
I got off in front of a narrow man-made isthmus which now connects Nesebar to the mainland. This ancient town was previously located on an island. It is said to have the highest number of churches per capita in the world. These Byzantine churches are mostly ruins; I mean truly ruins with 1 or 2 walls standing. Nesebar is worth visiting anyway because of its cozy narrow cobble streets and beautiful old houses. It is touristy too with lots of souvenir shops.
After 2 hours of walking the streets and lunch I did not know what else to do in Nesebar. There was still plenty of time until the return bus.
On the waterfront I noticed a sign that advertised speed boat rides to Sunny Beach, a major resort nearby. One boat was about to leave. I came closer to it and hesitated.
‘Are you coming?’ asked a crew member. I jumped into the boat.
‘Surely there are ways to get to Byala from Sunny Beach’, I thought.
After a pleasant 20-minute ride I was in Sunny Beach, but what a contrast it was to the lovely Byala. Sunny Beach (Слънчев бряг) is a typical beachside city with little local culture. One hotel after another, amusement parks, paragliding, water skiing and everything else that is usual in such places, crowds and crowds in the water and on the sand. Sunny Beach was a popular tourist destination for Russians during the Soviet era. Many now crumbling ugly concrete buildings date back to that period.
Disappointed by Sunny Beach, I asked for directions to the bus station. Nobody knew for sure where it was. Some people pointed away from the beach; so I walked in that direction until I came to a huge market with all kinds of merchandise. If I had had more time I would have shopped there for souvenirs. I asked again where the bus station was. A middle-aged Bulgarian looked at me sympathetically and explained how to find it. The local bus station turned out to be a small dusty shack right next to the market. The next and last bus towards Byala that day was scheduled to leave in half an hour. When the bus showed up it was almost full. I found a vacant seat in the back of the bus, settled down and watched trees and green fields sliding past the window until I fell asleep.
‘Are you getting off in Byala or what?’ the bus driver woke me up.
Embarrassed, I thanked him and left the bus. Still feeling drowsy from too much oxygen in the sea air, I walked to a small restaurant to have dinner. It was a long, but overall satisfying day.
I spent my last full day in Bulgaria exploring the corners of Byala that I did not have a chance to see yet. It looked like quite a few construction projects were started years ago and never finished. Dead carcasses of apartment complexes – some with glassed windows, others without them – were seen here and there. Hmmm, perhaps there was truth in those online stories that my husband had sent me.
My return flight was in the afternoon. In the morning I decided that I had enough time to go to the beach before leaving. Never mind that my swimsuit would be packed wet and stay like that in my suitcase for almost a day until I would wash and dry it properly at home. I ran down to the beach by the familiar path. How stupid of me was to get lost here where by then I knew almost every street, how comfortable I was in Byala now! A big ‘FOR SALE’ sign caught my attention. It was on a complex that was not built by IBG. The building looked nice and it was 2 minutes from the sea. I walked to a young man who was cleaning the swimming pool and asked about the apartment for sale. Of course, he could show it to me. The young man got the keys and we went to the apartment. It was rather small and the sea was visible only from the balcony. Again it was not what I wanted, but the building itself looked better than everything else that I saw before.
‘Who built it?’ I asked.
The young man got a piece of paper and wrote down the developer’s email address. I thanked him, stuck the piece of paper into my pocket and hurried to the beach. There was little time left for a swim, but I did it anyway. When I was back to the apartment, the car was already waiting for me. I stuffed the swimsuit and the rest of my belongings into the suitcase and we left.
Bye-bye, Byala! Will I see you again?