Finally after finding a cash machine and just about keeping our dignity we headed out of the station knowing we needed tram 7 towards the town centre. We also knew we had to purchase tickets prior to boarding from one of the food stands in the station (thank you Lonely Planet). After trying several times to get tickets using the phrase book and all number of mimes a helpful local came and asked if we needed help, learning from previous experience Nina quickly said yes, just as I was ready to stick to my usual British stubbornness and say we were fine. The chap quickly manage to obtain two tickets for us and then proceeded to try and book us into a hotel. We advised we had a place sorted and he trotted off slightly dejected.
We found the tram stop easy enough and this was when the fact that Bulgarians wrote everything in Cyrillic first became a problem. We knew which stop we had to head towards and get off at however we only had the name in English and no way of knowing what this looked like in Cyrillic (the Lonely Planet helpfully provided directions and a map but absolutely no Cyrillic whatsoever). Anyway we took a guess and managed to get on the number 7, (numbers luckily look the same) ten minutes later we got off in the middle off nowhere and purchased two more tickets (using the old tickets and the international sign for 2 whilst waving money) and got back on the number 7 this time in the right direction (Doh!). At this stage despite being knackered we managed to see the slightly funny side off this.
Getting off of the number 7 at the right place was again a tricky enough task, so we waited until we saw the big cathedral and hopped off there for we knew this was central and on the main street to upon which our hostel was. Using the Lonely Planet map we headed on foot along the main street and back towards the station. The map showed that our hostel was right next to the 'Spring Well' where locals would fill heaps of bottles with water. We found the spring well after a few wrong turns and were relieved that we were nearly at the hostel. Little did we know that pure frustration was just around the corner (unlike our hostel). For the next half hour to forty five minutes we walked around the spring well, around the nearby synagogue, around the local streets looking for the hostel. Nina left me with the bags and went for a five minute wander but had no luck, I left Nina with my bag and went for a ten minute wonder and I too had absolutely no luck. After getting totally wound up by this situation we finally decided to give the hostel a call, here is how the conversation went....
Me: Hi is that the hostel Mostel
Hostel Mostel (HM): Yes Hostel Mostel hello
Me: Great, we have a room booked with you guys but don't seem to be able to find you at all.
HM: AH! are you using the 'Europe on a Shoestring' directions.
Me: Yes, the Lonely Planet.
HM: Uh, yeah they're wrong.
Me: Pardon?
HM: The Lonely Planet they have us wrong, we tell them, but still it's wrong.
Me: (through laughter, although it may well have been tears) Hmmm, that's great, how do we find you?
HM: Hold on a tram's going past
Me: Hello.....hello.....hello
HM: Ok so where are you?
Me: We're by the fountains and the synagogue
HM: Yeah, you have quite a walk, we are 15 minutes further away from the station.
Me: The train station?
HM: Yeah
Me: Ok, do we walk towards or away from the city centre?
HM: Oh we are maybe 300 meters from the city centre....
From then on he gave excellent directions to the hotel and I made a mental note of each turning we had to take, land marks he gave were the golden arches (McDonalds naturally) and a giant Milka sign. By this stage we were so shattered, uncoordinated and generally beaten that when we walked for 20 minutes and saw the train station in front of us I am surprised neither one of us threw down our bags and got the first taxi to the airport to fly home. Around we turned and marched back the opposite direction refusing to get a tram due as punishment for our general stupidity, on walked past the fountains, past the stop we had originally got off of the tram at, right at the McDonalds, left at the biggest Milka chocolate sign ever and suddenly there before us was the Mostel Hostel sign. The real sucker punch was that it was about 200 meters from where we had originally got off of the tram about an hour and a half previously.
We got checked into the hostel relatively easily, only sobbing a little when we were told we were allocated in an apartment about 500 meters from the main hostel area, Ninas sobs got louder as we had to scale 3 flights of steps to our room, but when we finally got there we just collapsed in a relieved heap. Four hours later we woke and decided to take on Sofia for real, but not before dumping the now detested Lonely Planet guide and grabbing in replacement Hostel Mostel's own map complete with Cyrillic and English street names and also all of the major sights to see.
Sofia is a beautiful city to walk round, more so when it is not stupid-0-clock in the morning and you don't have a 15kg backpack on your shoulders. We did a complete circuit on our first afternoon there taking in sights such as the Court House, the mineral baths (under renovation, much to Nina's disappointment, I have promised her a Spa at some point on this trip), the spring wells (again...in a better mood) and the cathedral. We didn't chose to actually enter any of the sights but the walk around them was stunning enough. At one stage behind a Russian church, the description of which mentioned amongst other things the exquisite Plastic interior (we believe this was a translation error but never ventured inside to find out), we found a little market selling an array of different items from arts and crafts to instruments and war memorabilia. Worryingly there were many stalls that we selling items covered with the Swastika (knifes, hip flasks, guns, medals the lot). It was both strange but interesting looking through these various stalls. At one point I had asked Nina to buy me a beaten up accordion from one of the stalls, as she reached for her purse I remembered myself berating her with the phrase 'you buy it, you carry it' every time she looked in a clothes shop, and quickly advised her it was a joke.We spent a good 4 or 5 hours wandering though the city and its parks with various communist and post communist monuments which are found amongst skate parks, fountains and quaint little cafe/bar huts with 'fussball' and pool tables outside them and both decided that we really really loved the place, there was such a good friendly vibe. That evening we headed into town and found a good little restaurant and had a bite to eat and then headed back to our room as we had decided to head out to the Rila monastery the following day and that meant a relatively early start.
Oh it was nice to sleep on a normal non moving bed again. The following morning we headed to the main hostel to grab breakfast and wait for instruction on who was going to take us to the Rila Monastery which was about 2 hours drive away - turns out the hostel managed to find Nigel Mansel. We spent most of the journey holding in the contents of our stomachs, closing our eyes and praying that were actually going to make it in one piece to the Monastery, whilst Dimitri (a fellow hostel guest chatted happily away to Nigel). Safe to say we did get there in good time and good shape and despite the hair raising trip and only having two hours there we were stunned. The Rila Monastery is amazing so well kept and so beautifully decorated, it seen as something of a shrine to many traditional Bulgarians. It is seen as being the main reason that Bulgarian culture, language and bloody alphabet was able to continue to exist through years of Ottomon rule. In my opinion, the culture and the language was worth saving, the stupid alphabet on the other hand......
I managed to enjoy the journey home a bit more than the journey there, feeling that, despite not being religious, going to a monastery has got to count for something. Either it did or I was just lucky but we made it back to Sofia in one piece. One thing I didn't realise was how mountainous and green and rural Bulgaria was. The journey back from the Rila Monastery really opened this side of Bulgaria up to me and my prejudice views that I held of Bulgaria all but evaporated. I had always though of it was the new up and coming Spain or Majorca due to the massive influx of British tourists since the early nineties and when we first looked at heading towards Bulgaria I had originally been quick to shrug off the idea, now I wanted to stay and explore.That same evening we headed to what is billed as the Bulgaria TGI Fridays merged with Hooters for a spot of food. Turns out the food is nowhere near as good and as for Hooters -pah!. We knew also that the following day we would be moving on so we figured we'd go for a few drinks as well just to see what the night life was like. I left Nina in charge of this part and she came up trumps with her choice, the 'Budda Bar' located in a mini square amongst hotels and casino's (Bulgarians appear to love their casinos) and here we drunk away our night and learned quickly not to order doubles in Bulgaria as a single is 50 ml. Obviously we needed to do this a couple of times to make sure we were right, safe to say we slept well that night.
The following morning we hit the road again sad to leave Sofia and the awesome Mostel Hostel behind but excited to see what its sister hostel was like in what was billed as laid back student town with Citadel. The journey was to take 3.5 hours by bus, Nina suggested we grab some food to eat on the way, I opted out and just grabbed some water, this turned out to be a bit of a mistake....
