|
BULGARIA:
Lost (and Found) in Translation
By
Cindy Loose
When
you are traveling to Bulgaria,
you must carry a substantial phrasebook and remember this: In
Bulgaria, when you want to signify that the answer is
"yes," you shake your head back and forth. To signify
"no," you nod your head up and down.
My
slow awakening to the reversal of signs for positive and negative
created a great deal more confusion than was necessary during my
solo, five-day trip to Bulgaria earlier this month
English
is not widely spoken outside hotels. This problem caused me to
enrage a bearded priest in a long black robe who thought I wanted
to visit his room and perhaps sleep with him, when all I really
wanted was to see a room for rent in his monastery.
Fortunately,
there are many kind Bulgarians who will go to great lengths to
help and please you. At one Sofia restaurant, for example, my
waiter seemed so vested in my enjoyment, so eager for my approval,
that when I couldn't finish my fish, I hid it in a paper napkin
and put it in my pocket, to avoid upsetting him.
Full
disclosure: There are also some service workers who seem to have
studied at the Soviet School of Hospitality, with a "don't
you see I'm playing solitaire; why are you bothering me; no soup
for you" kind of attitude.
Bulgaria
is clearly a country in transition. You see it in the service, and
in the architecture, with decrepit Soviet-era block apartments
lining streets that end at a chic hotel or restaurant. You realize
the sweeping changes when you see some Bulgarians driving new
Mercedeses, and others riding donkey carts.
Bulgaria
also is a nation with an amalgam of cultures. Just when you've
concluded that an area looks a lot like Greece, you'll turn a
corner and be reminded of Turkey. Or you'll walk through the door
of a cathedral that could be in France and find that inside, the
walls are covered with Byzantine art most reminiscent of Russia.
Church spires and minarets grace the skylines in both cities and
small villages.
Every
great power that ever rose in Europe passed through Bulgaria. They
all plundered this nation at the crossroads of east and west, but
also left some of the best of their cultures.
In
1990, after a half-century of Soviet control, Bulgaria held its
first free, multiparty elections. The country is still in the
process of privatizing its economy and struggling to modernize its
infrastructure. Although I drove on two occasions on smooth new
highways that included signs in both the Cyrillic and Latin
alphabets, I also wandered about in confusion on potholed roads
that had very few signs.
There
is a national controversy about whether to post signs in the Latin
alphabet in the countryside, a car rental agent told me. Problem
is, impoverished villagers take down signs and sell them for scrap
metal.
Many
people, according to the agent, are working hard to make
Bulgaria's many attractions easy for tourists to see and enjoy.
"Things are not perfectly in place yet," he said, but
rightly added, "Even now, though, we have many beautiful
things to see."
An
Enduring History
The skyline on the outskirts of the capital of Sofia is dominated
by ragged, soulless apartment blocks. But the city center is a
concentrated area of museums, graceful old government buildings
and historic churches that cluster near a block-long synagogue and
a mosque the Turks built in the 1500s.
Many
buildings have been spruced up in recent years, both by private
entrepreneurs and the European Union's Beautiful Bulgaria Project,
which has provided renovation funds. One of the most imposing
buildings is the St. Alexander Nevski Cathedral, erected between
1882 and 1912. The cathedral is filled with ornate carvings in
wood and marble, and houses hundreds of Bulgarian icon
masterpieces. The gold-plated central dome, with a massive gold
cross on top, becomes my touchstone as I make my way around the
city, often feeling lost, or about to be.
I
take particular pleasure in seeing the cathedral, knowing the role
the Bulgarian Orthodox church played in saving Jews from the Nazi
death camps -- a history documented in the book "Beyond
Hitler's Grasp," which was my airplane book on the way here.
Although Bulgaria was aligned with Germany during World War II,
the tiny country repeatedly thwarted orders to transport its
50,000 Jewish citizens to death camps in Poland. Church leaders
took a righteous stand; one even threatened to lie on the railroad
tracks to prevent the movement of trains that arrived to transport
Bulgaria's Jews. The trains left empty.
This
history creates a warm spot in my heart for Bulgarians -- a
tendency that expands when I see Sofia's book market. Outdoor
stalls stretch for many blocks. I'm briefly tempted by the campy
appeal of the Bulgarian edition of President Clinton's recent bio,
but settle for a few used copies of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Each book
on display is carefully wrapped in plastic to protect it from the
elements. Any city that can support such a huge market for books
is okay by me.
The
Black Sea, which stretches along Bulgaria's eastern coast from
Romania to Turkey, has become extremely popular with European
tourists. Graceful villages of historic note line sandy beaches in
some areas. In other areas, modern resorts have been erected.
However,
the Black Sea is at the opposite end of the country from Sofia's
international airport. Although Bulgaria is only slightly larger
than Tennessee, there is no straight shot across the country. With
only four nights to spend, I decide to vary the landscape as much
as possible and plot out a small triangle: east to Plovdiv,
Bulgaria's second-largest city, south through the mountains and
wine country, then back to the capital.
A
modern highway with signs in Latin and Cyrillic lettering runs the
97 miles between the two cities. The outskirts of Plovdiv promise
little, but a magnificent old town lies within its limits.
The
ancient Thracians settled Plovdiv as early as the 5th century B.C.
The Romans arrived in the first century and during their reign
built, among other things, a magnificent 6,000-seat amphitheater
that has been restored to pristine condition and is still used for
concerts in spring, summer and fall.
There
is no need to struggle with a map in Plovdiv. The old town is
about a square mile or so, and I find that by wandering aimlessly,
I naturally come upon all the major sites, including the
remarkable Roman amphitheater, and other much more ruined ruins
from Roman and Thracian times.
Steep
cobblestone streets lead past old churches, a mosque built in the
15th century during the era Bulgarians call "the Ottoman
yoke" and distinctive wooden mansions that are classic
examples of the Ottoman konak -- basically the style of homes
owned by wealthy Turks. The most striking of the many buildings:
the Ethnographic Museum, a konak with graceful columns and
porticos, painted a deep blue and elaborately decorated with
designs of white and yellow flowers and leaves. Inside: everything
you could want to know about making cheese and wine, and exhibits
of furniture, jewelry, pottery, costumes and musical instruments.
Despite
the cold on this March day, street musicians are playing for
coins. Some are elderly -- a sign of the hardships that have
befallen pensioners in a new economic order.
Anyone
who has bemoaned the decline in accordion playing in the United
States should be of good cheer. The art is alive and well in
Bulgaria.
Alphabetical
Disorder
I work out a routine to find my way along the winding, potholed
roads between Plovdiv and the south, where the names on my map
bear no resemblance to the Cyrillic versions on road signs.
At
each crossroads, I point to the word "Plovdiv" as
rendered in my alphabet and say "English," then point to
Plovdiv in Cyrillic script and say "Bulgarian." Then I
show them the name of the next town I wish to reach as it appears
on my Latin alphabet map, say "English," and then look
at them and say "Bulgarian?"
When
the mental light bulb clicks, they smile broadly and write the
name of the next town in a version I will recognize when I see it
on a sign at the next crossroads. By this means, I make my way
through mountains and valleys of extraordinary beauty, past
vineyards, along streams, rivers and lakes swollen with melting
snow.
The
drive from Plovdiv to Bansko is less than 100 miles, but it takes
me more than four hours -- without the falling snow, I could
probably have cut that in half. I have just enough daylight left
in Bansko before turning in to conclude that it is an
exceptionally pleasant resort town filled with vacationing
Bulgarians. The mountains around the town have great ski
facilities and must make for awesome hiking in good weather.
The
next morning, as I drive mountain passes farther south to the
Damianitza Winery, there are times that I can see all the way to
Macedonia and Greece.
At the winery, tour coordinator Tzvetelina Shutova shows me
around the series of concrete buildings and takes me to the
future tasting room, which she hopes will be ready by June.
Tzvetelina not only will provide tours on request, but if
visitors are interested, she will arrange for them to help
harvest grapes or visit the numerous festivals that nearby
villages organize, with wine, food and music.
Every
man and woman in the region, she says, is involved in making wine.
She sniffs in dismay when I ask about the people along the
roadside who sell their own home-brewed wines in recycled plastic
Coca-Cola bottles.
Damianitza
Winery, and many like it, have been working hard to create premium
wines. "We used to make wines for the Russian market; now we
are making fine wines for people expecting quality, not
quantity," says Tzvetelina.
About
50 wineries in Bulgaria are open to visitors, said Tzvetelina, who
is putting together a guide she hopes will help promote wine tours
all over the country. Wine connoisseurs in Europe and the United
States are increasingly enthusiastic about Bulgarian wines,
particularly the merlots and cabernet sauvignons that are among
the specialties of Damianitza.
Just
down the road, I stop for a visit in Melnik, one of a dozen or so
villages that have been designated "museum towns" by the
Bulgarian government. In each case, the town is made up of
charming old buildings of historic and architectural significance
that owners are required to protect and preserve. Sand cliffs,
sculpted by wind and rain, tower above Melnik. The tall, narrow
buildings that snake up the Pirin Mountains are all painted brown
and white. The color choice is by national decree, in keeping with
regional tradition for buildings in the Bulgarian "national
revival" style.
A
Monastic Marvel
That night in the small city of Sandanski, which is famed for its
hot water springs and huge spa, I settle into a lovely new
boutique hotel atop a hill. My large, modern room is furnished
with imported Italian furniture, and I have a great view of the
city from a wall-size picture window. The tab: $68 a night.
Closeup,
Sandanski shows the scars of decades of deferred maintenance. But
from my window above the city, Sandanski looks like a scene from a
poster of Greece.
A
30-minute massage costs less than $20, and I follow it with a fine
meal of wild mushroom risotto for under $10.
But
my greatest treat of the trip still awaits, about 30 winding miles
off the main highway that will take me back to Sofia. This time, I
easily find the monastery nestled in the Rila Mountains, more than
4,000 feet above sea level.
The
Rila Monastery, founded in the 10th century, is considered the
holiest place in Bulgaria and is designated a World Heritage site
by the United Nations. Although plundered by various invaders over
the centuries, the monastery retained its place as a center of
Bulgarian art, religion and culture.
The
intricately painted wooden building with graceful arches wraps
around a grassy square the size of a football field. At the
entrance, when I ask if anyone speaks English, a man scowls and
says "no" in a manner that suggests the question is an
insult.
Yet
you barely need words to appreciate the building, with its four
levels of colorful balconies, massive church, museum and hundreds
of monastic cells.
More
than 1,200 frescoes by Bulgaria's finest artists of the 1800s
cover the walls of the monastery church. Museum holdings include
such items as an 18th-century cross that a Brother Raphael spent
12 years carving -- ruining his eyesight to engrave 140 miniature
Biblical scenes.
As
the car rental agent promised, Bulgaria -- even the small part I
was able to see -- has many beautiful things
Details:
Bulgaria
GETTING THERE: Numerous airlines operate
connecting flights from Washington Dulles and BWI to Sofia, the
capital. Round-trip fares begin at about $650 most of the year,
but for summer months are averaging more than $1,000.
GETTING
AROUND: Car
rentals are available in major cities. Once off main highways,
finding your way around can be daunting, but it's possible with
patience. (Bulgarians tend to take rules of the road as
suggestions, so defensive driving is essential.)
The
country has a network of buses and trains. For train schedules and
prices: http://bdz.creato.biz/en.
Several private bus lines operate out of Sofia's Central Bus
Station, next to the Central Railway Station, among them MATPU (
matpu.com ) and Eurolines (
www.eurolines.bg) . As with the roads, navigating the Web
sites is an exercise in patience.
Inexperienced
travelers or those in a hurry should consider packaged or guided
tours. For example, you can arrange "sea and sand"
packages, a tour of Bulgaria's best-preserved historic villages,
hunting or outdoor adventure tours or a tour of World Heritage
sites.
WHERE
TO STAY:
•
Sofia : The Sheraton
Sofia Hotel Balkan (5 Sveta Nedelya Sq., 011-359-
2-981-6541, www.starwoodhotels.com
), a luxury property in a landmark building, has a prime
location and genteel Old World atmosphere. Although published
rates are much higher, Web rates begin at about $155 -- a bargain.
For
pleasant, clean rooms in the city center, try the Niky
Hotel (16 Neofit Rilski St., 011-359-2-952-3058, www.sofiahotels.net/niky.shtml
); doubles run about $55 a night.
•
Plovdiv : The
charming Seven Hills Hotel (6 Zhiten Pazar St.,
Shahbazyan Square, 011-359-0746-33200) has a perfect location at
the base of the old town. Doubles begin at about $50.
Great
bargain and service in Plovdiv is The Imperial Park Hotel - The
three-star hotel is located in the Center of The City and is close
to The Antique Old Town, the Roman Theatre & The Plovdiv
International Fair. It is situated in a quiet quarter but it is
near to the one of the biggest City main thoroughfare - Kniaginia
Maria Louisa Boulevard, where there are suitable transports to all
points of the City's. Doubles begin at about $40. ( 1A, Arch.
Kamen Petkov Str, Plovdiv Bulgaria 4017, tel. 011-359-32-600 730;
www.hotelimperialbg.com ) The manager Ivan Totev guarantees
excellent service.
•
Sandanski : Although the Sandanski Resort has
larger and better spa facilities, I preferred the smaller Medite
Resort Spa Hotel (011-746-33200, www.hotelmedite.com
), a new boutique hotel just across the road. Doubles begin at
$68.
•
Melnik : In the center of the village, the small,
historic Despot Slav (2820 Melnik,
011-359-7437-248) has pleasant rooms and apartments. Doubles begin
at $35.
•
Bansko : A 200-year-old bed-and-breakfast, Dedo
Pene (1 Bujnov St., 011-359-88-879-5970, www.dedopene.com
) offers rustic charm. Doubles begin at $40.
You
can also find houses to rent in the countryside
at www.ruralbulgaria.com .
WHERE
TO EAT: As a heavily rural and agricultural country,
Bulgaria offers good, fresh, inexpensive food and wine, with
outstanding cheeses. National dishes show Greek, Turkish and
Slavic influences. I was pleased with the attentive service and
well-prepared food at the Bulgarska Zavera (87
Tsar Samuil St.), a small, brick-walled restaurant in Sofia.
Offering typical Bulgarian food -- including beef, chicken, lamb
and fish entrees and great potato side dishes -- the restaurant
has entrees ranging from $5 to $11.
In
Bansko, hear live local music and sample regional and national
dishes at Dedo Pene (1 Bujnov St.). Entrees range
from about $8 to $18.
You'll
find several small, rustic restaurants along the windy country
road leading to the Rila Monastery. No addresses are available;
signs simply say "Pectopaht," which
means "Restaurant." Look for my favorite: Follow signs
off the main north/south highway (E79) for the monastery. About 11
miles from the highway, watch on your right for a small
mountaintop restaurant just over a bridge, with a sign showing a
leaping trout. Entrees begin at a few dollars; deep-fried fish,
the house specialty, begins at $3.50.
WINERY
TOURS: Reservations are required for a tour of the Damianitza
Winery (011-359-746-300-90), just south of Sandanski and
about 135 miles from Sofia. For tour information, visit www.melnikwine.bg
|