Happy Hobos -- Sofia, Bulgaria

I'm starting this post from the spacious, comfortable couch of our Bulgarian hosts in Sofia.

I am wearing clothes that no longer smell of stinky white cheese from Ohrid, car exhaust from Tirana, risotto from Zabljek and wood polish from Herceg Novi.

The rank perfume of "hobo" has officially been washed away. If you sniffed me right now, you wouldn't be able to tell where I've been for the last month (which a person with pneumonia would have been able to do before yesterday).

Why?

My new hosts have a washing machine.

I haven't been so happy since... well... since I washed my clothes at Kristina's about a month ago.

Our bus left for Sofia at 15:00.

This is wonderful, I thought as I settled into my comfortable seat near the back of the bus, podcasts downloaded and ready to go and yogurt drink at my disposal. All I have to do is relax, look out the window at pretty things, and I'll arrive at my destination at 20:00. No google maps. No cardboard signs. No potential drug dealers or alcoholics. No worrying about getting hit by crazy Albanian drivers who don't seem to understand that avoiding potholes on one side of the road does not give them the right to drive on my toes. 

Our bus slammed on its brakes to avoid colliding with a semi truck and was rear-ended by a tail-gating car at about 16:30.

I was totally unfazed. Perhaps this is because I was in post-Norwegian prison delirium, but I'm choosing to believe that Tessa's "chill" is rubbing off on me, and I'm gradually learning that shit happens and I should probably just get on with it.

Tessa stood outside and chatted with the other thwarted passengers.

I stayed in my seat and thought back fondly to the time Bus Eirrean broke down on the way to the Cliffs of Moher and I was stranded on the side of the road for over an hour.

Figures. 

My legs fell asleep (although the rest of me was sadly reluctant to join them), so I decided to join Tessa and the rest of the gang outside the bus.

Tessa smiles on the outside when buses break down. 

One would assume (as one should never do) that such matters could be speedily resolved (especially when the majority of the passengers are grumpily smoking cigarettes, sighing heavily and burning holes in the bus with their "dammit, Macedonia!" glares). Phone numbers are exchanged. Insurance information is shared. Police reports are filled out.

One's experiences never coincide with one's assumptions.

Ever.

We waited on the side of the road for nearly an hour. I returned to the bus and looked out the window.

The bus driver was smoking a cigarette and waving his arms. The driver of the car was smoking a cigarette and waving his arms.

The policeman was standing with legs apart and crossing his arms.

As policemen do.

I'll have to contact my host and tell him I'll be late. Ach. I hate being inconvenient to people who are kind to me. But I really couldn't help this one...

The bus boasted internet, but for some reason or other, the internet didn't work until we entered Bulgaria.

Tessa and I believe that Macedonia is the Bermuda Triangle of Europe.

We'll never escape. 

When I was finally able to load Couchsurfing on my iPhone, I sent my host a message.

Aimee Bourget

We're in Bulgaria! Finally. However, our bus was rear ended by a car and we spent an hour on the side of the road in Macedonia.
It's been a long day.
So. I'm guessing we're running about an hour behind schedule and will arrive around 21:00 instead of 20:00.
Once again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. But goodness, getting to Sofia is turning into a pretty epic adventure.

Thank you for informing me. I will expect you :)

Aimee Bourget

Ah!!! One more hang up. I hope this is the last.
Our bus tickets didn't tell us that the time zone changes between countries.
So I think that means we'll be there at 22:00.
I feel so bad right now. I am so, so sorry this is happening.

Aimee Bourget

Currently about 20 km outside of Sofia. We're getting there.

Aimee Bourget

Just arrived. Heading to the metro as soon as we get money for the ticket.

We arrived at 21:30. 

All the exchange offices were closed. 

We only need a euro for the metro tickets. Ach. This is definitely the... umm... most ordeal-ish adventure we've had thus far. Besides camping by Shkoder, of course... but still. 

Some of the other tourists traded us lev for euros. 

And we're off. 

"It's been a while since I've used a metro," Tessa commented as we waited the four minutes for the train to arrive. 

"I haven't used one since Istanbul." 

We reached the stop a bit after ten. Our host had asked us to give him a call when we arrived, so I found an amiable looking stranger and asked for his phone. 

Nobody says no to a girl who looks like she's been hitchhiking all day and then been in a bus accident and then been thwarted by closed exchange offices and then -- 

Our host came to pick us up ten minutes later. 

And led us to a normal apartment. The kind that doesn't compare unfavorably to Norwegian prisons. 

It even boasted a washing machine. 

"Is there anything else you need?" our new BEST FRIEND asked after giving us iced tea and the internet password and introducing us to our cosy couch. 

I looked at Tessa. 

Tessa smiled at me. 

"Would it be possible," my voice was timid. A lot was at stake here. "Would it be possible to..." I faltered. "to wash our clothes?" 

"Of course," our new BEST FRIEND EVER replied nonchalantly, not quite realizing how much this bit of generosity meant to us. 

"YES!" I turned to Tessa. "That deserves a high-five." 

We high-fived. Then squealed happily whilst relieving our reeking backpacks of their rancid clothes. 

"We's gonna be clean!" I chortled, so carefree that I cared not a lick that I sounded like a stupid American. 

We loaded our laundry into the washing machine. 

"Do you want to watch it?" our host asked in amusement as we gazed in wonder and gratitude as the machine began to pulse and fill with sudsy water. 

Tessa and I slept soundly. Comfortably. Contentedly. 

We left the flat at 9:00 this morning, popping into the mall for yogurt, peanuts and bananas and then having our breakfast picnic in a park. 

Our host had recommended a free walking tour, so we continued our trek through Sofia until we reached the Palace of Justice, where the walking tour was due to commence at 11:00. 

Very odd park sculptures. 

This might be my biggest annoyance. Graffiti. I abhor graffiti that vandalizes the art/work of others. 

Walking streets in Sofia. Tessa and I felt like we were in Western Europe again. 

They don't sell anything anymore

Coffee shop nest!

Our splendid tour guide. Unlike the Sandeman walking tours, this tour group employs people who live in the city to lead the tours. His accent was adorable (and I say this in the least condescending way) and his stories were endearing. 

Saint Sofia. Sofia, Bulgaria is not named after Saint Sofia (it's named after the Hagia Sofia Church), and this statue has several questionable qualities. #1 -- she is a Christian martyr who is bearing/wearing three pagan symbols. #2 -- she's wearing a very "open-minded" dress

Sofia has layers. Like a cake. These are the ancient Roman layers. 

Ottoman layers are built on top of the Roman layers. 

Excavation -- bottom layer of Sofia cake

Guards. If you get too close to them, policemen (guarding the guards) attack

We acted out the story of the monarchy in Bulgaria. I got to play the most beautiful Italian princess in the world. This is when I married a gay Austrian prince (Ferdinand?)

My favorite part of the tour:

Boris the third was saved from an assassination attempt because he was late to someone's funeral (the wannabe assassinators blew up the entire church to make sure they wouldn't miss King Boris. Unfortunately, they forgot to remember that Bulgarians are always late).

Boris the third saved all the Jews in Bulgaria because he won the battle of procrastination against Hitler.

Procrastination is the national sport of Bulgaria.

Boris the third is amazing.

The end.

Park statues in Sofia's parks are all very dire. 

Dire, part two

Palace of Justice. 

After the tour culminated and we'd tipped our guide, we returned to the Palace of Justice to meet a couchsurfer who'd promised to show us Bulgarian cheese. 

This was Bulgarian cheese. 

And it was delicious.

Notice that they eat boneless lamb head in Bulgaria. And Veal tongue. And tripe with butter.

Tasty goodness.

The cheese couchsurfer gave us excellent tips on hitching out of Sofia and different parts of Bulgaria to enjoy.

Then we napped in the park.

Then we returned to our couch. 

And now we're preparing to leave for Ruse. Where we will either wild camp on the shore of the Danube or stay with couchsurfers.

Who bloody knows.