04.08.2010
A quiet flower town cut from stone. Streets are cozy and narrow. It’s light burning with mild colours. It looks relaxed. But if you have a deeper look at it you understand it is enjoyng its own honoured peacefulness.
It looks that such towns live their own historical life, they still remember, feel deeply the times of changes, its youth, its passionate characters. Revolutions, wars, love, emancipating - but years are passing by –there is a museum about Nicola Vaptsarov, a great poet and revolutioner, a wonderful house with so well-preserved interior of late 19th century: dishes, beds, old furniture, old weaving, sewing devices for wool cotton clothes. Here you can breath the air of past times, fresh air of ancient gorgeous mountains.
After a walking we were getting higher and higher in rounds of paths to the tourist base. Here we were circled by huge severe nature - the temperature got lower rapidly in 20 degrees. We, tired exhausted ramblers, got a shelter in a room with many beds, wooden, yellow, room where we had a lot of fun and stories to tell.
Next day guys had a great chance to taste a mountain. I had a chance to talk to locals. People have a good business here. Since the Soviet times when the place developed as an important touristic, sport destination which was popular mostly between socialistic countries, they still keep traditions of past times. I’ve seen already so many folklore things. But the nearer one to nature, the more one needs proved by time equipment and comfortable things.
Now here come people mostly from Central and Eastern Europe. We saw some old rock-climbers. But they were so heavy-equipped, looks as we didn’t understand the whole danger of slipping wet tricky stones, steppe routes, but I know children of mountains never use anything special to climb.
People.
People are very welcoming, they are eager to talk, eager to be on the photos. A man in the train tried to speak 5 or 6 languages in order to look welcoming and friendly to us. It’s nice. I noticed people here almost always know some other languages, at least understand them. But the region of Bolgaria has always lied on the way of trading and move of nations. So it was always in many contacts with different great cultures.
But the other thing about them through years of hard life they learnt how to be joyful and tolerant. Fortunately I experienced only a good side of communication with locals.
In my first night in Sofia in middle of a night I came with one Holland guy to a great youth “Hostel-Mostel”. And then I was scouring around the city in hope to get somewhere a possibility to call my mum, ‘cause she doesn’t use Internet . And in one Icafe I was given a cell phone from a guy with the OK - phone Russia!!”
Katya
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