Bulgaria, 2013

Trip 1

Trip 2

Hurrah, I was going to Bulgaria again! The flights were the same: Denver – Washington, D.C. – Vienna – Varna. The airport in Varna is small with only a few regular international flights. During the high season there are dozens of charter flights from European cities, but I fly from America and cannot use them.

Over the past winter I found online an apartment that I liked and bought it off-the-plan. The construction had begun and I wanted to see how it looked. My husband Sergey was shaking his head when I signed the contract.

‘It is too far. We cannot go there for a weekend’, he said.

‘True, but we will retire one day. US citizens can stay in Bulgaria up to 90 days without a visa. I’d love to spend a couple of summer months by the sea. Colorado is wonderful, the Rockies are beautiful and hiking keeps me fit. There is just one thing missing here – it is the sea.’

‘Why not to buy something in Florida or Central America? It is much closer.’

‘Perhaps because I don’t have a spare million? My dream is a beach property with the sea right under my windows where I hear the waves and smell the salty breeze. Bulgaria is affordable; real estate and everything else is cheap.’

Sergey was not convinced. ‘You are making a mistake’, he said.

My connection in Vienna was tight, but with a carry-on only I easily made it. The boarding began. A procession of young girls in bright red sweat suits with sports bags of the same color entered the boarding area. The girls walked past all other passengers to take their seats on the plane. Shortly after that an Austrian Air representative announced that the flight was overbooked. He asked for volunteers to take a later flight to Varna for a reward of 250 euros in cash. The offer was tempting. This amount of money pretty much should cover the expenses of my 9-day stay in Byala except for the hotel and nothing would happen if I arrived in the evening instead of the afternoon. And I volunteered. Two young Austrian guys did too. Apparently this was not enough. Two more volunteers were needed.

A husband-and-wife couple was last to board. A big shock awaited them. The airline rep took their boarding passes and explained that they had been volunteered to fly later. The couple did not understand. They were Slovaks and did not speak English or German. The husband indicated that he spoke some Russian. They obviously needed help and I came to the counter.

The Slovak said in Russian that they were going to Bulgaria to spend a vacation with their daughter who lives permanently in Australia. The daughter already arrived and she would be at Varna airport to meet them. They could not take a different flight. I translated this into English. The airline rep looked undisturbed by the couple’s protest. He calmly reassigned their seats to the remaining two athletes in red sweat suits. The couple asked about their checked-in luggage. The rep gruffly replied that it would be taken care of. He gave us slips of papers to get boarding passes for our new flights. I looked at mine and saw that it was not a direct flight. We were going from Vienna to Varna via Moscow! The Austrians noticed that too. Both were on the phones talking excitedly and I heard the word “Moskau” repeated several times. They were getting to see a bit of Russia for free! The Slovaks did not share their excitement.

The direct flight to Varna is less than two hours. The diversion via Moscow meant about 6 hours in the air plus the layover time. I felt bad for the Slovak couple; however there was no time to lose. The flight to Moscow was departing soon and we did not have boarding passes yet. The airline’s name was Niki. I asked where their counter was and as it often happens nobody knew. At last someone told me that we should go to a different terminal. We ran as fast as we could. The Slovaks were keeping right behind me as I was their means of communication. Out of breath we reached Niki’s counter where we got our boarding passes and prepaid cards with 250 euros each. The flight left as scheduled.

‘Relax’, I told myself, ‘a short visit to Domodedovo airport won’t hurt. After all nobody is waiting for me in Bulgaria.’

Turbulence hit when we were approaching Moscow. It was so violent that I had to wrap my arms around the armrests to stay in the seat. For the first time I realized that the airplane seat belts do not hold the body firmly in place. They should be more like car seat belts that fix not only our hips, but shoulders too. Children screamed, adults struggled not follow them. The plane was rapidly descending for landing. A new thought struck me. With all hassle in Vienna I forgot to let my husband know about the flight change. The flight Vienna-Varna had arrived by now. Sergey would be sure that I got to Bulgaria and wonder why I did not contact him. We’d crash in Moscow and nobody would know where to send my bones to. The plane tipped left and right as the pilot tried to align it. Soon the wheels touched the ground; we landed safely. Everyone was unusually quiet when leaving the plane. My legs shook from the fright. The Slovak lady who did not have a common language to communicate with me simply rolled up the eyes to express her emotions.

Domodedovo International airport looked like a huge bazaar.  People with luggage hurried in all directions. It was noisy from conversations and loud radio announcements. The Slovaks scared enough by the flight became even more agitated. They stayed close to me while we were working our way through the crowd to the counter of S7 Airlines that should take us to Varna.

An S7 representative told us that she could not give the Slovaks boarding passes until their luggage would arrive to Moscow. It’s the law – luggage cannot travel without its owner for security reasons. It was a perfectly valid law; only we knew that nobody removed the Slovaks’ suitcases from the flight Vienna-Varna. There was simply no time for that. The plane took off immediately after their seats were reassigned. The S7 rep would not listen to our explanations. She checked and rechecked if the Slovaks’ luggage was unloaded. It was not. My carry-on was with me, but I did not get a boarding pass either. The rep reckoned that I would not abandon my unlucky companions and fly without them. Therefore I did not need a boarding pass. Her logic was flawless. Indeed, I’d not have done that.

The Slovak lady was texting with her daughter who waited in Varna. Her husband and I talked to kill time. He learned Russian during the Soviet era when he was an active union member. On the pretext of cooperation between Czechoslovakia and the USSR a delegation from the union that included him several times traveled to Soviet resorts on the Black Sea where they did nothing but ate, drank and went to the beach.

The boarding time was approaching. All three of us talked to the S7 rep again, speaking whatever language we could, to convince her that the Slovak couple’s luggage landed in Varna hours ago and now we should go there too. She was a reasonable person and printed our boarding passes. We walked to the gate where I heard an announcement about the gate change for our flight. I pulled the Slovaks towards the new gate. They did not want to go and kept pointing at the gate number on our boarding passes that matched the number of the gate where we were standing.

‘Right, but it has changed. We need to go downstairs,’ I tried to persuade them. Finally they listened to me and we got to the correct gate. The waiting area there was small and without chairs so everyone stood awaiting boarding. The departure time came and went; there was nobody from S7 to explain what was going on. After a one-hour delay they started boarding. We got on the plane being glad that we could sit down and then waited two more hours on the tarmac. This time the reason for it was obvious. It poured down like hell. The storm system that rocked us on the way to Moscow got to Domodedovo and now was in full swing. Later I heard on the news that Moscow streets were flooded for hours after that storm.

It was almost midnight when we got to Varna. The Slovak couple and I said goodbye to each other. They could not thank me enough. I wished them luck with reuniting with their daughter and hopefully with the luggage too.

The regional buses stopped running long time ago. The only means of transportation to Byala at night was taxi. I asked one driver how much it would cost to take me there.

’80 euros’, he said. That sounded like a rip-off for a low-cost country like Bulgaria.

‘How much will you pay?’ asked the driver.

I did not know. During my first visit IBG transferred me from and to the airport for free.  I thought a little and decided that 30 euros was good enough for a one-hour ride. The taxi driver cursed when he heard my price. I stepped back from his car. Exhausted as I was after the long flight and the ordeal in Moscow I wished to get to the hotel sooner rather than later, but not at any cost. More taxis came, I offered to pay the same 30 euros to another driver and he accepted.

I had a reservation at a small family hotel Omiros in Byala. The room was 40 leva (about 20 euros) per night. The hotel owner Peppa met me outside and took me straight to my room leaving the formalities of checking in until the morning. At 1 am I finally got into bed. It felt good to be on terra firma and to be able to stretch.

In 2013 Omiros had a restaurant on the first floor which is now closed. In the morning I went to it to have breakfast. A waitress with a nametag Natasha greeted me. I ordered eggs, salad and coffee. It was midsummer and therefore high season, but customers were few. Natasha was not busy and looked like a person who liked to talk. She also looked like someone who needed to share her story with a willing listener and I did not mind to be one. Here is what she told me.

Natasha moved to Byala from the Ukrainian city Nikolayev. Her mother was Russian and her late father was Bulgarian. She used her father’s nationality to apply for Bulgarian citizenship. It took a long time for the authorities to process the application, but the citizenship was granted. Natasha’s son had a house in Varna, her daughter studied in Moscow and her husband remained in Nikolayev while Natasha chose Byala as her place of residence. Peppa hired Natasha to work in the restaurant and let her live in one of the hotel rooms. Natasha had plans to start her own business in hospitality and tried to learn Bulgarian. There was just one thing that tortured her – thoughts of the husband who stayed behind. A born leader and a patriot of Ukraine, he was a big shot in Nikolayev. He believed that his country had a future and wanted to be part of it. Natasha disagreed and felt like her life was wasted there. They talked every day hoping that one of them would change their mind and neither would budge.

During the day I went to see the construction site of the complex where I bought my apartment and liked it. My dream was coming true.

In the evening I called my husband and told him about everything that happened since I left home. Sergey fell silent for a moment and then asked, ‘Did you see Edward Snowden in Moscow?’ ‘No! Snowden is in Sheremetyevo and I was in Domodedovo. Is this all that you have to say?’ My memories of the flight to Moscow were still vivid. I needed compassion and not cold fact-checking, but this is what one gets being married to a scientist.

I spent my days in Byala walking all over it and going to the beaches. The better I got to know Byala the more I loved it. This place felt like home. I wanted to come there again and again.

One morning I took the bus to Varna which I did not have time to see during the first visit. Varna’s pedestrian city center is compact and easy to explore on foot. It also has an excellent public transport system. One bus or trolleybus ride is only 1 lev ($0.60).  I visited the famous Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin, walked through the market and bought souvenirs, went to the Archaeological Museum.

The two floors of the museum were filled with treasures, literally. The first floor is dedicated to the history of this area. The Thracians lived there from the 13^th century BCE. They were replaced by the Greeks and later by the Romans. These civilizations left cultural layers one upon another. On display in the museum there is gold from Thracian burial places, the oldest ever discovered in the world; jewelry and lots and lots of other interesting artifacts. An extensive and excellent collection of Orthodox Christian icons is on the second floor. After 3 hours in the museum my head started to spin. It was too much culture to absorb in one day. Besides, I needed to get back to Byala while the buses were running.

On the way to the main square with the Cathedral I passed the Golden Tulip hotel. It occurred to me that they probably had city maps. Indeed they gave me a free map of Varna and helped with directions to the bus station.

The time in Byala flew by fast. Return tickets from Varna were not available and I bought one from Sofia via Frankfurt and Toronto. It was a long way home that also included one night in Toronto. The cheapest hotel in the vicinity of Toronto airport was $70. Grudgingly, I made a reservation for one night. I was going to travel Varna-Sofia on an overnight train and to do some sightseeing in the Bulgarian capital in the morning before heading to the airport. A sleeper berth cost me 32.60 leva (about $20). The train was leaving at 10 pm and arriving at 6.15 am. I took the 7 pm (last) bus from Byala to Varna and slowly made my way to the railway station. After dinner in the café opposite the station there was nothing left to do but to sit on the platform and wait for the train.

The train came, it was rather old, but the compartment was comfortable enough. It was for 3 persons with all berths on one side and had a wash basin in the corner. My berth was the top one. I was not looking forward to climbing onto it. The other two berths were occupied by a young and strikingly beautiful Bulgarian woman with a son about 6-7 years old. The boy excitedly pointed to the top berth. His gestures showed that he wanted to sleep there. Of course, I did not mind to swap. All three of us went to bed in a good mood. I slept through the night and woke up only when the conductor banged on the door of our compartment. We hurriedly got up, changed and washed ourselves. The train was already rolling into the station.

The railway station in Sofia at that time was ugly, dirty and decaying. It was renovated in 2016 and now looks totally different. I quickly left the station and found a nice coffee shop across the square that was open despite the early hour. After a light breakfast I was ready to see the Bulgarian capital. The interesting part of it is the historic center which is small and needs half a day to visit the main attractions including St. Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. The rest of the city consists of rows of unattractive rundown apartment buildings. Before writing this I checked reviews on TripAdvisor/Sofia and many people liked Sofia. So don’t take my word for it. it is quite possible that you will enjoy visiting Sofia. The people were always helpful whenever I asked for directions, how to buy bus tickets, etc.

At the airport a self-service kiosk could only check me in to Frankfurt and no farther. Something was wrong. I went to the Lufthansa counter where they told me that Toronto was closed due to inclement weather. They quickly rebooked me through Munich and Chicago so I arrived to Denver the same day instead of staying overnight in Toronto. It was too late to cancel the hotel reservation in Toronto. My credit card got charged, but it was a small price to pay to get home much faster.