Kazan — summer 2014

Getting ready to leave Frankfurt for Sofia was pretty easy. Lufthansa (LH) didn't even check our passports, which shocked me: they only scanned our boarding passes. Apparently the Bulgarians are just not too uptight about who gets on a plane to visit them. The plane was an Airbus 320 series, packed tight with seats, but bearable. I had hoped to sit next to a Bulgarian to ask some questions, but my companions were on my left a window and on my right an Asian woman on my right whose accent left me no hope of getting any pre-landing information. The pre-recorded announcements included a beautiful male voice delivering instructions in Bulgarian as well as the standard German and English that LH uses. That's when I started getting really excited: I had been reviewing my Bulgarian for half the previous flights. Soon I would be able to use it.

Departing Frankfurt is always fascinating. The landscape below is a beautiful montage of forest and cultivated land. Sometimes the city boundaries follow the shape of vanished water ways. Sometimes there are odd patterns that make you wonder what the people and legislation economic situations were that formed then.

I noticed that there seems to be a preference for red roof tiles in many places. The landscape continued being mainly agricultural throughout the trip, with one very odd exception: a lake with a curious constriction at the top. I thought it was in Germany, but a later verification showed that it was Lake Balaton in Hungary.

As I approached Sofia, I noticed again the proponderance of red roofs in what were presumably construction areas.

The Sofia airport is practically in the city...

and as we approached from the east we were flying over something that anyone who had been in Russia previously would recognize: those shabby-looking Soviet-era apartment buildings. It felt like we were going to hit their TV antennas with our landing gear. (Click the picture for a better view.)

The airport itself is lovely and clean...

And now the adventure itself was began. Passport control was a piece of cake. Baggage arrived safely. As soon as I exited baggage claim, I changed $100 into levs, the Bulgarian unit of currency. (1 lev = 100 stotinki.) Asked the information desk where to catch a cab.

I always have the best conversations with cab drivers. Told him to take me to Централната автогара (the Main Bus Station). I had been warned about fake cab drivers that would try to rip you off, but I was taking some online advice about what company to choose and made sure to use Супертран (Supertrans)...

and my driver Khristo with his Soviet-style dentistry...

seemed mostly okay. (Okay, I cheated on that picture, but you still get the idea.)

Half-way through our taxi-ride, Khristo pulls up and a young man gets into the seat behind me... not what one normally expects on a taxi ride... The kid looks kind of shady. Is this the point where foreigner Don gets overpowered by two Bulgarians and has all his money and laptop stolen? The driver introduces the kid as his son Petko. That kind of double-duty on a taxi ride feels very Russian to me, and the kid doesn't send off a bad vibe, so I figure I'm okay. We drive maybe half a mile and our taxi gets rear-ended. Truthfully, not even hard-enough for my head to hit the head support behind me. Still, I wonder. There is a shady-looking Bulgarian in the back seat and the timing makes me wonder if this is actually a rip off. The driver gets out and starts yelling at the other driver; the meter is still ticking. Is this how they are going to rip me off? After two minutes of yellow Khristko and Petko get back in the cab. The bumper isn't even scratched so we proceed to the bus station. The whole trip cost me about 14 levs, which means the online advice I got was spot on. I could have done it cheaper had I been willing to do a couple busses, but this is my first time in Bulgaria and I have three pieces of luggage. I'm gonna be lazy. We arrive at the bus terminal without further incident. I tip excessively well with 6 lev.

At the terminal I find the kiosk that sells tickets to Plovdiv. I'm confused. No one is there. I try to decipher a sign that suggests that for certain future bus rides, you have to go to another window. Then I realize that the phrase ‘future tickets’ actually means ‘after lunch tickets.’ Разбирам (comprendo). I go to window 14. There is someone there. The price for the two hour ride to Plovdiv is 14 levs, just as the website said it would be. Excellent. And odd. My 20-minute taxi ride cost me more than the two-hour bus ride... although that was due to my generosity. The bus would department in about 25 minutes. Excellent timing.

I go to sector 6. The bus pulls up almost immediately. I stow my bags in the luggage department and stand around to make sure that no one unauthorized removes them. And I start watching the people. The Turkish ethnic influence is clearly greater here than in Kazan. You can tell that the economy is pretty weak. Still, when possible, people really like to dress nice.

I get on the bus. Not far from me sits a girl who can't be more than 13. She has a smart phone... definitely some money in that family, despite the fact that her jeans are artfully ripped. In fact they are way too ripped to be natural. I wonder how long it took her to do that? As we being to ride through Sofia, I'm surprised by the amount of graffitti everywhere. Some of it borders on real art.

The seats have me eating my knees. Nasty. Good thing there is no one sitting next to me, otherwise there is no way I could tolerate it. Other than that, the bus is clean and in good order with good AC, which the driver actually uses. Thank you, God. None of that Russian-style stupidity here that makes Russians prefer to sweat rather than use the AC.

We depart the city. The Bulgarian countryside is forest interspersed with agriculture. The forest reminds me of the Missouri Ozarks. I recognize fields of wheat or maybe barley, sunflowers, and corn, along with fields just beginning to blossom yellow, which must be rape. There are also fields of a plant that I want to say are potatoes, but something doesn't seem right about that, so I ask two women nearby what they are, and I'm told they are царевица, which turns out to mean corn. Sorry, ladies, but if you can't tell a corn field from a potato field, you are definitely from the city. I wonder if maybe those were soybean fields? I couldn't get close to be sure.

As we go through the countryside I pay attention to various ads. The international two-letter abbreviation for Bulgaria is BG. I notice the occasional billboard, like this one for a web site that made me laugh...

Technically prostituting oneself is legal in Bulgaria... is this that kind of website?

Nope. It turns out to be a site for future mothers. Future mothers, eh? Then why does a quick google of the site reveal pictures like this one on the left? I now have deepened my insight into what big Bulgarian mammas want.

Hm. Looks like the Russian oil giant Lukoil has partnered up here with Burger King on roadside services. Interesting. Later I see the same thing with American giant Shell and McDonald’s. Curious. Wish I had got a decent picture.

The bus ride to Plovdiv is starting to put me to sleep. Can barely stay awake. We start pulling into Plovdiv. I force myself awake. We arrive at the bus station. I give the address of my apartment to the taxi driver. He has never heard of the street, so he gets on his cell phone and has a friend Google it. We eventually get there. It's about five o'clock. That was really good timing. I check in without any hassles.

It is done. I have arrived in BG safe and sound. More later.