Eurotrip

Well, it's been a while, and a lot has happened since the last time I posted anything on my blog. I visited my site today (for the first time in months) and reading through my posts, even the latest one seemed fairly archaic. I've been busy, that's true, however that hasn't been the sole reason for my latency. I just had to give myself some time and let things marinate before putting the whole experience into words. Long story short: it was lovely visiting Bulgaria; living there permanently...not so much:) So Mark and I made the decision to move to England and since we had already bought a car, we thought it would be quite an adventure (yet another one) to drive there. We realized America and Bulgaria are the two extremes on both ends of the spectrum, and we needed some balance, the happy medium, if you will. I certainly can't say that everything about our stay in Bulgaria was bad, not even in the least. After all, Mark proposed to me there, and really, there couldn't have been a more perfect spot for that than my parents' vineyard.
The eurotrip started early in the morning on a Monday, and it was late afternoon by the time we got out of Bulgaria. After careful consideration and consulting with a couple of people who'd already driven to England, we decided to go through Serbia. The other possibility was Romania, and although it was the safer option as it is now in the European Union, it would have taken a whole day to drive through it as nobody bothered to build a highway there. At the Serbian border, we were stopped for a passport check and a few cops, dressed in post-Communist blue uniforms, interrogated us in regards to our bulky luggage in the car. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bit nerve-racking. Even though both Bulgarian and Serbian are Slavic languages, I couldn't always understand what they were saying. Mark, of course, didn't have a clue, so I was the designated communicator/translator. One of the cops poked his head through our car window in order to take a good look at Mark and then, addressing me, said that Mark looked like a Turkish mafioso. For about four seconds, I was not sure what to make of that comment, as I didn't know if the man was kidding or being dead serious, but then he suddenly burst into laughter and gestured with his hand that we could go. Like that wasn't stressful enough, after a few hours of driving through the "ghost town-ly" Serbia, we got pulled over by the police. As it turned out, the reason they'd stopped us was because Mark had overtaken a tractor on the highway. We were willing to pay them, but they would not accept Euros (as they begrudge the European Union) and that's all we had. They asked us to find a place where we could exchange our money and then go all the way back to give it to them. Anyway, eventually they let us go and the minute we entered Hungary was the minute I finally relaxed. We spent the night at a motel and continued with our journey the next morning. To be continued....

On the coach again!

When my mom informed me she'd signed us up for a three-day coach excursion through the Rodopi Mountains, Mark and I were quite skeptical, to say the least, as we were still tired and cranky from the never-ending flight from the States. We were, however, totally flabbergasted with the incredible panorama of the Rodopi mountain range. The views that particular part of my country had to offer made the earsplitting din of some fifty vociferous teachers on the coach worthwhile.
The trip started off at Perperikon, an ancient Thracian city considered to have been Dionysus' oracular sanctuary. It's perched on a rocky peak at 1,400 ft above sea level, which we climbed, I'm very proud to say. After examining the whole place, it was time to get back on the coach and head over to our next destination. Since we'd hiked for about two hours, it is perhaps unnecessary to mention the kind of aroma that filled the air on the bus. Well, we survived (although the AC did not quite work), and got to the next place called Tatul. Tatul is situated in the Eastern Rodopi Mountains in Southern Bulgaria. An ancient Thracian tomb was discovered there and it is thought to be the shrine of the lyre musician, Orpheus. Amongst the various places we got to see, including wonders of nature, traditional Bulgarian as well as ancient Thracian and Roman architecture, the scariest thing I'd ever encountered in my life was The Devil's Throat. Yeah, it sounds nasty and it is. The Devil's Throat, one of the Rodopi Mountains phenomena, is a cave in which a winding, almost vertical concrete staircase goes up as high as a 20-storey building. I'd really recommend refraining from looking down since not only it's a dark, cavernous abyss, but the roaring of the river underneath and the 18 waterfalls that it forms contribute even more to the sinister feel of the whole place. The biggest colony of cave bats in the Balkans spend their winter period in this cave. The trip ended with a visit to Plovdiv, where I'd attended college for about three semesters. It's a beautiful city that subtly combines both modern and ancient. Mark and I went to see the Roman Amphitheater and for the symbolical price of 3 lv we actually had the pleasure of walking around it.
So all in all, the three-day coach excursion happened to be an incredible experience for both Mark and I. It was nice to get to know my own country a bit better.

Varna, baby!!!

You know what they say about New York City.... not the "if you make it there, you can make it anywhere in the world" saying, but the "you never find anyone who's able to give you directions since there everyone's a tourist" saying. Well, when Mark and I went to Varna last week I realized that half of the people there were just visiting and the other half had lived abroad for at least a few years. While checking into our modest hotel, the lady at the front desk gave us a quick summary of her whole life and informed us she'd lived in several different countries including The United States. Her late husband had been a captain of a ship so she'd traveled to numerous places along with him. When she finally finished and let us go, we left our bags in the hotel room and ordered a taxi to take us to our interviews. The cabby seemed to possess the wisdom of Solomon and gave me a warning that the teaching profession is a hard profession. He'd just returned from America. He'd stayed in New Jersy for six months, cleaning oil from colossal tanker ships, which, he said, had been a disgustingly dirty job. He then had gone to Miami though did not specify what kind of work he did there. He had been granted a two-year visa, but came back to Bulgaria after the completion of the first. He said it was the hectic way of life that he disliked.
Everywhere in Varna you hear a cocktail of foreign languages, predominantly English and German. It's a big enough city where everyone's doing their own thing, unlike my hometown where you feel like you're in a fishbowl and everyone's staring. Mark and I went down the main street, which is pretty much like a wide promenade where cars are not allowed and both sides of the walk are studded with various coffee shops, restaurants and shiny clothing stores. The best part of the main street is the Sea Garden at the very end of it, which is a considerable, picturesque park that reveals a scenic view of the Black Sea. You stroll through the Sea Garden, go down some stairs and you find yourself right on the beach. There are plenty of cafes and restaurants there so we decided to have dinner at an Italian restaurant while looking at the waves crashing and the seagulls hovering above.
Varna, baby!!!

Dude, Where's My Car?

In a country where privacy is a concept most people simply can't conceive of, the first step to our independence was the purchase of a car that would supply us with the means to travel around and most importantly help us escape the suffocating atmosphere of my tiny hometown. Mark and I were lucky enough to find a car in the first couple of days, although the official transfer of the vehicle to our name was nothing short of a bureaucratic hassle that involved lawyers, notaries, town hall clerks, insurance agents and endless DMV queues.
Well, at least all the cops in the area knew who we were, so we could drive our new black Golf GTI before we even got the proper papers for it. Indeed, the whole town congratulated us on our new acquisition before the purchase was even completed. That's how small my town is!
The initial plan was to get an automatic since I don't know how to drive a manual, but eventually we realized that it was not that easy finding an automatic car in Bulgaria. I actually learned on a "stick" many years ago, but I always hated it and got quite traumatized after failing the exam twice. In the States, I drove an automatic for six years and, let me tell you, going back to my old friends, the clutch and gears, didn't go so smoothly. Anyway, Mark's the sole driver for now, but I try to stay positive and think good thoughts....that one day we'll get a nice and easy automatic car.

Are We There Yet?

See, after a 20-hour flight, writing on your blog is not the first thing on your mind, nor is it the last. Why is that, you may ask. Well, it's because your body's need to be in a horizontal position and get some of that elixir called sleep, takes over and becomes all that matters. Mark and I had deeemed it prudent to buy cheaper tickets to Bulgaria, which, let me tell you, cost us later. The itinerary was pretty much Atlanta, Washington, D.C., Vienna (Austria), where, by the way, a small bottle of water costs €3, the equivalent of $5. 25) and finally Bourgas(Bulgaria). Looks all right on paper, but not the case in reality. There are many hours of just waiting at the airport involved, which gives you ample time to reflect on the cost-cutting exercise that seemed like such a good idea at the time. Anyway, at least there were no delays, for which I am very grateful. We got to Bulgaria eventually and despite the fact we were totally knackered, we still couldn't get any sleep for days because of the time difference. It gets dark outside and your body desperately needs some rest, but your internal clock can't make sense of the situation and keeps on resisting the sleep. Now I truly understand Chuck Palahniuk's "everything's a copy of a copy" phrase. Caution: physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation may result in grumpiness, loss of patience and intolerance of affectionate neighbors.

Exodus

Well, after six and a half years of living in the "land of milk and honey," my boyfriend, Mark (who's originally from England), and I have decided to return to the Old Continent and reconnect with our roots. The romantic myth of America is haunting many people in countries all over the world, countries that cannot provide their nations with the conveniences and luxuries America can, but as they say: ignorance is bliss. It's those same comforts that make people jaded and complacent.
Anyway, we've been waiting for my graduation and now that my schooling is done and over with, Mark and I are going back to Bulgaria, and perhaps I shouldn't use the term "going back" as my boyfriend has never been to my native land. He is extremely excited though and I admire his enthusiasm to move to a place he's never been to, let alone face the language barrier. He's definitely in for a treat:) We both need a dose of some adventure and excitement. I personally need a break! Doesn't everyone? I've been an Au pair, cashier at an arts and craft store (yawn), a nanny for rich people, nice people, not-so-nice people, Americans, Indians and Jewish people, I've been an accounting assistant in an office (yawn again), and an intern at a literary journal (that was the best one of all). I did shitty jobs in order to pay for my education, and I spent most of my last few years pretty much just working and doing homework. So now I'm ready for some R & R; can't wait to lazy around on the beach and soak up the sun. The plan is actually to settle in Varna, which is the second largest city in Bulgaria, smack in the middle of the Black Sea coast. We also intend to do some traveling and, as a matter of fact, my mom has already taken the liberty of signing us up for a four-day trip...on a bus...fifteen days after we get there. Stay tuned for further updates:-)...