Bulgaria! - Part 1

Bulgaria – on a coach – along with 50 other couples, all trapped in a small metal space. Oh joy. We’d wanted to visit this relatively unexplored part of the world for ages, preferably not with a load of chattering, crisp eating, snoozing strangers, but hey, the coach would stop eventually, surely?

We have since re-visited this small country and fallen in love with its mountainous scenery, the friendly inhabitants and the mesmerising and haunting bagpipes of the Rhodope mountains, kaba gaida, which has gone into space on the shuttle and charmed ET, I feel sure. Well, perhaps not ET but whoever or whatever hears it can’t fail to fall under its spell. Have a listen on YouTube if you don’t believe me. No bagpipes, haunting or otherwise, on the coach however, which was probably a blessing.

Our coach guide was a frankly rather butch looking young woman, square, dark and quite hirsute. She had a strong accent which from the rear of the coach wasn’t easy to interpret, but we caught many snatches of “beautiful” and “wild” which we were never sure referred to herself or the passing countryside, although we gave her the benefit of the doubt. She also had a propensity to extol the sad passing of the Communist era at every opportunity, and on consideration we tended to agree that at least then everyone had work and a place to live whereas now the unemployment figures were high and rising, wages were pitifully low and prices climbing steadily.

We stopped at many towns during our tour of course, and were given plenty of time to explore. When we halted in Sofia we headed for the Byzantine cathedral of St. Alexander Nevsky. At only 130 years old it’s a bit of a baby in cathedral terms, but its Eastern Orthodox central dome and beautiful interior can stand the test of time along with any of Europe’s medieval stunners. We quietly entered and as if on cue, a superbly moving choir began singing somewhere high out of sight. The hairs on my arms stood on end and the timeless echoing sound rooted us to the spot; I felt tears spring to my eyes. There’s something about religious music of that quality and antiquity that touches the soul and renders the listener speechless and somehow cleansed. The cathedral, mindful of funds no doubt, were selling CDs of their music but although we bought one, it just wasn’t the same when we got home and played it. Maybe you had to be there.