Bulgaria Мixes Оld World and New, and Оffers Great Bargains
02.01.2008The Tsarevets fortress looms over the tidy medieval city of Veliko Turnovo like an image from a fairy tale. Its crenellated stone walls and turrets, ideal for damsels in distress, crown a steep hill. But instead of heading up toward that restored beauty, the city's largest tourist attraction, my Bulgarian friends drove down toward the river at its feet. They were intent on a different destination. I looked longingly at the fortress as we parked in a dirt lot. We walked under an archway into an unimpressive scene. Piles of rubble lay on the ground. A stone church was attractive in the October sunshine with its series of arches and a red-tiled roof, but I had seen others far grander in Bulgaria. My friends, though, were eager to take a look. I wondered why, until Raissa Yordanova explained that this was the Forty Martyrs church and monastery, a linchpin of Bulgarian identity and history. The complex was built in 1280 and destroyed during centuries of Turkish Ottoman rule. A prophecy proclaimed that Bulgaria would return to prosperity only after the church was restored. Those piles, I realized, weren't random, but delineated the outlines of the monastery as it once was, with tiny monks' cells and larger worship spaces. It was reopened to the public last summer. Inside the church, some of the murals of bearded saints glow brightly, while others, unrepaired, are chipped and barely visible. The restoration of the monastery and church is hauntingly beautiful, but unfinished -- much like the former Soviet-bloc country itself. Last fall was my second visit to Bulgaria and to Veliko Turnovo, a charming old city that was once the capital of Bulgaria and is now one of the country's more popular tourist magnets. One guidebook calls the well-preserved town 'the next Prague,' which got a laugh from the Bulgarians I was traveling with when I read it aloud. I understand the skepticism. The year before, when a friend invited me to join her for a media conference, I admit that I had to look up Bulgaria on a map. Last year, my return felt like a chance to spend time with old friends. We began with a few days in Sofia, the capital, moved on to Rousse in the north, swung back in a loop through the tourist town of Turnovo, as the locals refer to it, and returned to Sofia. Even though just a year had passed, these towns, like the whole country, are in an energizing state of flux. Bulgaria joined the European Union in January, becoming a more modern nation amid a wealth of history. The Archeological Museum in Sofia houses hundreds of pre-Christian artifacts from the Thracians and the Greeks. Forts, statues and other remains of the Roman Empire are being dug up and restored -- or plowed under for new development. Ottoman Turks overran the country at the end of the 14th century and held on until the early 1900s. Then came the world wars and Soviet oversight, which ended in 1989. Despite earlier domination by Turkey and the Soviet Union, the only heated talk I heard about either country concerned the best places to vacation in Turkey. I found it odd that a Balkan country with such a history holds so few grudges. As we drove around the countryside, I asked a Bulgarian friend about it. He shrugged. 'That's past,' he said. ``We are thinking about the future.' Rousse sits along the Danube River on Bulgaria's border with Romania. The city was once a Roman fortress and later considered the cultural center of the region, partly because of its close ties to Vienna. The Austrian Hapsburg Empire influence is obvious in the architecture, with baroque curlicues and curious stone faces. Change is obvious, too. The year before, an ornate building across the street from my hotel had been crumbling and shrouded in scaffolding. This year, it was brilliantly restored, with pink and blue lights showing off the gleaming white facade every evening. In Sofia, when a Bulgarian journalist gave me a tour, he was dismissive of the massive marble and granite Soviet architecture, some of which struck me as quite impressive. As we wove our way around cars parked on cobbled sidewalks, he showed me where the entrance to the presidency had been moved away from the central avenue, a symbol of Communist power. He told me how the country had rid itself of such symbols, replacing a Lenin statue with one of Saint Sofia, blowing up the mausoleum of a Communist leader. In spite of the effort to shed the recent past, Bulgarians do embrace their ancient past. My modern hotel in Sofia was built around a circular 4th-century church. Just outside the front entrance sits a weighty, domed 19th-century Bulgarian Orthodox church, and tucked inside the nearest subway underpass is a small 14th-century church, all well -- and fairly newly -- preserved. As we headed underground at the subway, we passed the saved remains of a Roman building. Often, street musicians were perched on one of its walls. This year, we saw Japanese tourists posing for pictures with a little girl playing the violin. Another sign of growth: a developing wine industry. I toured a winery in Rousse housed in an old Turkish armory. The vineyards now are marketing wines beyond their border. A month ago, I spotted a Bulgarian wine in a liquor store near my home. And still another sign: Ugly Soviet-style apartment blocks go on for miles, but many Bulgarians now own their flats and have the means to spruce them up. Both translators at the conference ducked out to meet with workers who were remodeling their apartments. One impact of Soviet rule lingers. A poster on the wall of a hip bar in Rousse made clear, in succinct English, what you could do with yourself if you supported the smoking ban the government had imposed. It was confirmation of an observation I'd slowly made: Bulgarians don't much care for rules. 'Rules are more like guidelines,' English teacher and translator Angela Spassova told me. During Socialist times, so many bad rules were imposed that people started deciding for themselves whether to follow them. Oddly enough, what came to define Bulgaria's transition for me was not an ancient monument, or a barroom poster, but the restrooms -- WCs, or water closets, as they call them there. At a tiny roadside cafe, I went to the back, pushed open the door and looked down. It wasn't a welcome sight: a squat toilet -- a dirty concrete hole in the ground. On another day, at a wood-paneled restaurant in Rousse that served a platter of meat called 'wolf's hunger,' I went to the restroom. It was recently remodeled, immaculate, and had a new, porcelain squat toilet. Somehow, I found it charming. Bulgaria -- still one of the poorest countries in the European Union, only ahead of its northern neighbor, Romania -- is not for the visitor who likes easy travel. The unfamiliar Cyrillic alphabet makes getting around a challenge. Tobacco smoke is omnipresent, air pollution common. Drivers disobey traffic laws. Most people, including many cabdrivers, don't speak English, making even simple journeys an adventure. On the other hand, the rewards of visiting can be terrific. The EU and UNESCO are pouring money into renovating historic sites that are crumbling under years of neglect. One of them is the fresco-lined Ivanovo rock monastery perched high above flooded plains. On our way from Rousse to Veliko Turnovo on a rainy October day, we made a detour to the caves, cut into sheer stone cliffs. We were the only visitors. The view of the autumn leaves from the monastery was stunning as we peered down from the aeries where monks lived their isolated lives of prayer. The renovation at that point largely consisted of covering the cave openings with wood to prevent more damage. Small openings let in enough light to illuminate the labor of monks from centuries ago. Every rock face of the cave was covered with a biblical story or a patron saint. The artwork was stunning, and I took lots of pictures. As we climbed out via a wooden stairway, I noticed a paper sign that had a camera in a red circle with a slash through it. I stopped and then moved on, sure that in Bulgaria, I wasn't the first person to break that rule. IF YOU GO: Bulgaria is a bargain for the traveler. We had appetizers of white and yellow Bulgarian cheese with three kinds of thinly sliced sausages, tomato and cucumber salads, and then a steaming pot of beef, cheese and egg for about $15 -- including wine. A dry paprika spice mix is served with crusty bread for dipping. The fare reminded me of Greek food with plenty of German sausages thrown in. Portions tend to be large, and restaurants are required by law to list the weight of each course on the menu. Rakia, a traditional brandy, is often drunk with salad. Good espresso is available everywhere. Even the machines in the subway dispense a decent cup for about a quarter. TRY TO TALK THE TALK: The Cyrillic alphabet can be the biggest challenge to getting around in Bulgaria. On the larger highways, you'll see signs that use Roman letters under the Cyrillic, but city street signs in Sofia and around the country are in Cyrillic only. Learning at least a little of the alphabet can help a lot, even if it's just to pick out words like restaurant (pectopaht). Many people in the larger cities speak at least some English, enough to help us find our way. One afternoon in Sofia, I went to the market by myself and easily managed to buy a hair dryer, sujuk (a flat, tasty sausage) and English map of Bulgaria. No one expects you to know Bulgarian, and if you learn a few words, it is fun to watch how surprised and pleased people are. Da (yes), ne (no), molya (please), and dobre (good, OK, sure) go a long way. Many Bulgarians also use merci for thank you and ciao for goodbye. I spent three days trying to learn to say blogodarya (thank you). Angela Spassova, one of the translators, tried to make me feel better about my struggles: ``It's the most difficult word in Bulgarian. Children here can't say it correctly until they're 3 or 4 years old.' USE CASH: Between our visit last year and the year before, there was one small but important change for tourism: More stores and restaurants accept credit cards. The State Department and guide books on the country warn of widespread corruption. That corruption, influenced by organized crime, has made local shopkeepers hesitant to use credit. Still, judicial reforms seem to be slowly having an impact. Plan to use cash at most places, though. GETTING AROUND: Private bus lines run to most tourist areas of the country (busbulgaria.com), and they are probably the most comfortable way to get around and usually are reasonably priced. The state railway system is extensive, but not necessarily fast or clean. I'm told you want to avoid the toilets onboard at all costs. The website is www.bdz.bg. Click on EN for an English version. LODGING: When looking for places to stay, keep in mind that there may be a two-tier pricing system: one for locals, the other for tourists. While technically illegal, several places where we stayed still used it. There is no centralized bed-and-breakfast or hostel bureau. Searching the Web for hotels, resorts or rooms for rent in the individual towns may be your best bet. SOURCES: One of the best travel resources is The Insider's Guide to Sofia and Beyond ... published by two women who run the Sofia Echo, an English-language newspaper. You'll have to look for it once you get there. We picked up a copy at the hotel gift shop. They publish a limited version on their website, www.sofiaecho.com. Look for 'Sofia Guide' at the bottom of the screen.
