I don’t know if it was a good or bad thing that I went out of town for a couple days this week.
Last week, after learning about a national holiday on which our school would be closed, and my insistence on not having a new class with some of my old students, I was able to finagle two days off in a row, and a plan was immediately formed to get out of town for these two days. The obvious destination was a location out of the country, having been stuck here in the drudgery of work and headbangingly Kafkaesque Turkishness, so we settled on Sofia (София), the capital of Bulgaria and a 9 hour overnight bus ride from Istanbul. Tickets were bought immediately and late on Tuesday night after work, we left Istanbul on a bus full of whiny Troglodytes towards Bulgaria – a 9 hour sleepless journey that saw sleepy, repetitive passport checks at the border, smoking gas station attendants, stiflingly hot bus air, countless bathroom breaks, and suicidal Turkish driving until, finally, we coasted peacefully into the soft, soothing, sunshiny Bulgarian morning. I hope I’ll always remember that morning drive into Sofia, through the voluptuously green rolling mountains of the countryside, the valleys and streams and sleepy little villages, timeless and idyllic.
There couldn’t have been more of a dichotomy from the city we left, Istanbul - the “greatest city in the world” (and I really can’t emphasize more how sarcastic I’m being here) – and Sofia. It was almost surreal, in terms of the delightful peacefulness and order. Sofia was pointedly less crowded, and its casualness was palpable; there were wide sidewalks green with trees, and vast parks lush with grass, fountains, and shrubbery. Surprisingly, for a country that had been victim to the ravages of Communism for so long, it was also quite clean as well – smokers were in the strict minority, and I saw people using the rubbish bins, so the city’s faint carbonized dustiness and sporadic construction was forgivable. Another astonishing thing about Sofia (again, only due to our city of origin) was its orderliness. Not only did people use the rubbish bins – they queued, and respected the queue; they waited nonchalantly for the crosswalk lights to change, even if there were no oncoming traffic; they were mindful of others as they walked down the sidewalks; and, they used polite language. They had manners.
I loved the energy in Sofia. It is a casual city, not so relaxed as to be lazy, yet nothing was hurried. Everyone took their own time, and I liked how in the shops and restaurants they were mindful of you, but not overly eager to please or ignorant. It was nice to see that many people would stop along the way to wherever they were going to pop into a church to light a candle or pray to the icons. Indeed, it’s a city of decent, honest people – no one hassled us, and everyone was honest and helpful. People gave us directions when we looked lost, and one woman at a travel agency let us use her computer when we inquired about the whereabouts of an internet café. I think that city is its people, and Sofia reflected this, as it is an unashamed, unboasting, casually progressive city. I could go on indefinitely, but my descriptions would be jaded red, as perhaps they already are.
As it was a long bus ride from Istanbul and our holiday was short, we had a little over one day to enjoy Sofia. Now Kyle, you’ve given yourself away and I can see that you’re waxing poetic, you’re thinking. That’s fine. But please, I invite you to take my word for it - spend a week in Istanbul, and then travel to Sofia for a few days. You’ll see. Anyway, as I was saying, we only had about a day to get a feel for Sofia, so after arriving at 8am, we had a lovely breakfast (ham croissants!!), and then saw all the large orthodox churches around Alexander Nevski Square. Of course, most of the churches were newish, having been destroyed by earthquakes and wars, but the folklore behind them was rich with history - I relished in the stories inside the churches about how, after being converted into mosques after Ottoman conquests, the mosques were destroyed by earthquakes, with all their hodjas and imams perishing inside as well, allowing the churches to be rebuilt again.
Alexander Nevski Cathedral
Respect yourself.
When in the synagogue...
...you must wear the yarmulke.
We then perused the square looking at the replica icons and antique trinkets the vendors had on sale, and picked up a few souvenirs for ourselves (couldn’t get that lovely black Cyrillic typewriter, though.) Later, after finding a hotel and having some lunch, we went to the National Gallery, which had a surprisingly delightful mix of modern art and 19th and early 20th century painting. The museum also had an impressive sculpture collection, one of the best I have ever seen.
Iconic Bulgaria.
Shut up and drink.
Yes, beer.
In the afternoon, we walked through the park, drinking in the perfect weather, green nature, and intoxicating lack of crowds, a heady mix that, combined with a few glasses of Bulgarian wine, led to a heavy, late afternoon nap. We awoke a few hours later and had a lovely dinner (real food), and finished off the day with some Bulgarian television. The next day we had to leave at 12, so a quick shopping trip was in order (wine, vodka, pork) and after a “gay” breakfast and a ham sandwich, we were grumpily on our way back to Istanbul. The ride back through the country was idyllic, with its mountains and green fields strewn with bits of yellow flowers and red poppies and tiny roadside churches……*sigh*
Lovely Sofia.
The contrast was stark once we crossed back into Turkey. The only good thing about that was that they didn’t take our booze and pork.
At work now, it’s hard not to get down. It’s like smelling the pie, but you can’t get a slice.
Awesome.
Obviously before we came back.
