Sofia
When we first landed on a dirt road, leading up to somebody's garden shed, in the back end of nowhere, I knew instantly moving to Sofia was possibly the biggest mistake I'd made in my life. I'd knowingly, willingly, and voluntarily placed myself in the middle of a third world country, where I know nothing of the culture, can't speak the language, and probably don't like the food.
Passing through customs, there appeared to be a problem with my passport - it's a much abused document, creased, and folded. The immigration woman disappeared for a few moments to fetch a machine with a laser, to check if my passport had been tampered with. At this point, I was half-hoping she wouldn't let me in at all. Annoyingly, she did.
After fighting my way through baggage, and the crowds of people waiting for other people, I saw the woman waiting for me, and knew instantly that it wasn't the most stupid thing I've ever done, but actually the cleverest. Unfortunately, this experience may not be shared by the casual tourist.
After an exceptionally cheap bus ride (standing, of course), and a reasonably priced taxi, I was only slightly surprised to be met with her daughter, sister, mother, neighbours, randomly selected strangers, and innocent passers by, a cat, and three stray dogs to my new home. As a Yorkshireman, a proper one, like in the olden days, completete with ultra-reserved mannerisms, I did what any red blooded Yorkshireman would do - jibber a bit.
Upstairs, in my new home, was food. Specifically, shopska salata. Shopska salata is just a foreign word for "pretty rubbish salad". Fortunately, it is traditional to serve shopska salad with rakia, which is absolutely lovely. A fine drink, exceptionally alcoholic, made from fruit, in this case, grapes.
If there is one thing Bulgarians like, it's alcohol with their meals. Rakia is very popular, but so is wine, or "champagne". The champagne isn't real champagne, it tends to be fizzy wine, the best being called Iskra, and costing a mere 5 leva - That's about £2 to you and me. Every Bulgarian you meet for hospitality will provide you with alcohol to go with your meal.
Other things they like to furnish you with is Banitsa - a sort of really thin cheese pasty, made with sirene (white cheese), mousaka, and stuffed vine leaves. To this day, I dream of these foods, unable to find anything that comes close to matching them elsewhere in the world (though Greece has a similar mousaka).
Anyway, fed, watered, drunk, time for bed, with the guided tour of Sofia from one of it's residents awaiting in the morning.
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