Sofia, Bulgaria - Surprisingly Good!

The woman operating border control at Sofia Airport certainly looked striking enough. In her twenties, dark skin - almost Greek-looking, her face caught my attention first. Dyed, red-orange hair and heavily made-up eyes greeted me as I approached the booth. She said nothing as she scanned my passport and I was soon out the other side.

“Did you see that woman’s eyelashes?” I said to Angela.

Angela nodded and smiled.

Driving into the city centre involved passing block after block of Soviet-style apartment blocks. Most were in major disrepair, but obviously lived in. Cyrillic lettering on road signs and billboards made everything look distinctly Russian. But what took up most of our attention was the taxi meter. It was running hell bent for leather.

Before our trip to the Bulgarian capital, I’d done a little research. A taxi journey into the city centre should have cost in the region of 10 Lev (£3.50) but at the half way stage, our fare was already up to 25 Lev. I thought back to how we’d ended up in this particular cab.

Avoiding the touts in the arrival’s hall of the airport, Angela and I had stepped outside into the hellishly hot 39°C temperatures, soon spotting a waiting taxi. Approaching the driver, I handed him the address of our hotel, and while he rang someone, presumably to find out a price, a man in his late twenties approached us from behind. “Zis is not official taxi,” he said. “Watch out for this man. He will rip you off! Official taxi over there – look.”

We both looked to where the man was pointing. There was another yellow taxi parked by itself, just across a road. I grabbed the address off the taxi driver, still on the phone, and thanked the man behind us. He smiled and shrugged. We headed across the road and the driver immediately got out, already opening the boot for our luggage.

“How much to this hotel,” I asked him as I passed him the address.

The man shrugged. “I not sure. I not do this trip before.”

Alarm bells started ringing, but I ignored them. Angela was already loading the bag into the back. “Can you give a rough price though?” I pressed.

The driver smiled. “Sorry. No! Nevertheless, it will be on meter. Please, get in. Come.” We did, and as soon as we set off, the metre began going up like the clappers, finally stopping on fifty Lev (£17) as we pulled up outside our hotel. We’d been stitched up good and proper!

Sofia, nestled at the base of the Vitosha Mountain, is not high on people’s list of city breaks in Europe. If people do venture to Bulgaria, it’s usually for the sand and sea of the Sunny Beach resort to the east of the country, certainly not to the relatively unknown capital in the interior. This was confirmed by the sheer lack of tourists as we wandered along a main city street, heading for some of the main sights. The people around us were obviously the city’s inhabitants, older women with long eyelashes and strange hair shades, younger people who could have been in any European city, and occasionally, Orthodox priests, donning long back robes and even stranger beards.

“Look at that woman’s melons!” said Angela beside me.

My eyes widened as I spotted the blonde girl in question. In the poster, a girl was holding a large melon in one hand, a tray of cut melons in the other. We wandered past, trying our best to keep in the shade.

Sofia is a very compact city. All the major sights are congregated within walking distance of one another. And the legacy of the Soviet era still pervades, especially with the Party House, once the headquarters of the Communist Party. The massive red star on its roof was only removed in 1990 after a mob tried to set it on fire. The area surrounding the building was the place to be if you wanted to watch the militaristic might of the Communist regime parading up and down. And speaking of espionage straight out of a James Bond film, Bulgaria’s reputation in the 1970’s was severely dirtied after the KGB were blamed for the death of Georgi Markov, a dissident writer living in London working as a journalist for the BBC. When he was walking along Water Bridge in September 1978, he was murdered after being stabbed with a poison-tipped umbrella. Fantastic!

Banya Bashi Mosque is the city’s only remaining Mosque. Dating back to the 16^th Century, it reflects Ottoman rule which lasted for almost five hundred years. Around the back of the Mosque was a pleasant area with a fountain at the centre. Angela and I sat awhile, taking in the sun and sights of Sofia.

There were quite a few homeless people wandering about, sometimes with dogs, but mostly alone. One lady sat on a nearby bench and deposited her bags by her side. After wiping her brow, she rooted around, soon bringing out a packet of crisps. This lady, and others like her, never once bothered anybody. In fact, the only time we got stopped for money was from a woman holding a baby. Probably a Romany peasant, the woman turned the baby towards us, making a gesture with her hand implying the baby had no food.

Sofia’s oldest church, and possibly oldest building, stands in a small courtyard. If we hadn’t known it was there, we would’ve walked right past it. Called the Rotunda of Sveti Georgi, it dates back to the 4^th century. During Turkish rule, it became a Mosque, but now it is a museum.

Needing a break from the relentless heat, we retired to a cafe and ordered some drinks. I ordered a large beer and Angela got a glass of wine. To our utter astonishment, the bill came to less than £1.50. My pint of Kamenitza alone had cost a paltry 48p! The cheapest pint in my whole life.

Cakes were also cheap in Sofia. Our guidebook recommended a place, the Bulgaria, described as a very swish, posh café selling cakes and truffles to tempt the palate. Entering, we once again noticed the lack of tourists. Only a few people were dotted around, and this was the height of summer! Regardless, we ordered our delicacies and when they arrived, they were as tasty as they looked. The had cost £1.50 each!

The main sight of Sofia is the majestic Alexander Nevsky Memorial Church. Green and Golden domes greeted our gaze as we headed towards one of the largest Eastern Orthodox churches in the world. Work started in 1882, as a commemoration to Russian soldiers who died during the liberation from Ottoman rule, and Angela and I had a brief tour of the interior, which wasn’t quite as good as the exterior we thought.

That evening, after a meal, we tried out a few bars. All were cheap, but perhaps the most memorable one was Piano Bar Jack, a basement bar complete with grand piano. As we sipped our drinks, a couple of musicians struck up some chords to add to the ambience. “I like it in here,” said Angela, taking a sip of wine.

The next day, we headed north towards the Women’s Market. Ordinary people come to the market to buy fruit, vegetables and all sort of other things, including what looked like witch’s brooms. Large, old women in headscarves, often with missing teeth, carrying large bags of turnips, ambled along. Stocky men with thick moustaches sat in doorways, most smoking cigarettes, some bending pieces of metal, all looking like they belonged there. This was the real Bulgaria I’d imagined. And I was pleased we’d found the market.

The name of the market originates from the time when mountain peasant woman ventured into the city to sell their goods. Over time, men have taken up some of the stalls, but the market’s name has remained in place.

Back in the centre, after passing the only Jewish Synagogue, we headed for the Presidential Palace to see the changing of the guards. We were not disappointed. Goose-stepping soldiers, dressed in 19^th century attire, marched by, taking up positions at the entrance to the Bulgarian President Offices.

Another good tourist sight was the Russian Church of St Nicholas. This gold, onion-domed church was built in the early 20^th Century to serve wealthy Russian of the city. It looked like it should have been in the heart of the Kremlin.

And then our final stop was a park just near the Sofia University. One edge of the park was undergoing some sort of restoration work, but what we wanted to see was still on show. The Soviet Army Monument, a 111ft statue depicting a solder with a woman and child, stands proud above a selection of friezes around the base showing fighting men and women in a series of vivid scenes. It really was quite a magnificent monument, and one that we might have easily overlooked if we hadn’t read the guide book beforehand.

The next morning our stay in Sofia was over. And we were both pleasantly surprised at how nice the city actually was. It certainly had a lot to offer the discerning tourist wanting to avoid the more obvious tourist hot spots of Central and Eastern Europe. But how long will this last? It may only be a matter of time before a budget airline descends on the city, and then the exclusivity may disappear.

Strengths:

• The cheapness of everything – clothes, drinks, food!
• All the sights within one walkable area. And some of them are quite spectacular.
• Friendliness of the people – the locals really tried to help us, especially some waitresses in a certain café.
• Lack of tourists – it was a joy not having to contend with hordes of tour groups and stag parties. Even in the height of summer, there were no queues anywhere.
• The feeling of complete safety. There was no unsavoury elements as far as we could see.
• The ‘real’ Bulgaria can still be seen in certain parts of the city – i.e. the Women’s Market.

Weaknesses:

• Hard to navigate around if you are not familiar with the Cyrillic alphabet.
• Beyond the major sights, there is not a lot to see in Sofia.
• Crossing a road can be a treacherous affair – where the pavement ends and the road begins is sometimes only separated by a faint white painted line.
• Litter was a bit of a problem with many overflowing bins.
• Lot of construction going on
• A lot of shabby buildings.