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Travel Stories Cities Veliko Tarnovo - Beauty in the Bulgarian Hills
Travel Stories Cities Veliko Tarnovo - Beauty in the Bulgarian Hills | Veliko Tarnovo - Beauty in the Bulgarian Hills |
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| Written by Vincent Galvin | ||||||
| Thursday, 07 June 2007 | ||||||
Page 1 of 4  Entering BulgariaThe train from Bucharest was empty. There were four carriages. My carriage had two other people in it. There was an attendant that seemed bored out of his mind. The train was bound eventually for Istanbul, and it turned out that he was a Turk.
He was a very pleasant guy that I was very skeptical of in the beginning. The seat reservation was casually paid to him on the train. I was sure that he was some local that had jumped on the train at the station looking for a few bob before it took off. The word receipt wasn't in his English vocabulary, nor in my Turkish! Turned out that I was owed a Euro change. He had a single Euro coin, but I told him that was no use to me. He got off at the Bulgarian border and changed it into local money for me. Not a bad auld divil after all!!
We get over the bulging Danube, which was at it's highest level for 100 years. After the bare mountainous countryside in Romania, the Bulgarian scenery was beautiful and lush, with hedge rows almost like the Irish countryside. It's Orthodox Easter Sunday, and before I get off the train the Turk presents me with an egg. It's bright red in colour, but the exact size of a regular egg. I have no idea if this thing is made of plaster or protein! Knowing I'm confused he produces his 'master' and tops it. The locals paint their eggs for the easter. Better for the health than 3 for Eu10 in Tesco!
The train station is in the middle of nowhere outside Veliko Tarnovo. The usual greeting meets me getting off the train: 'Room'. I ignore him and head around to the front of the station. It looks like it's on a small country road. There are a couple of people there but non that look like they'll be any use to me. The first guy reappears. Why did I ignore him? When he heard that I had a booking (I actually had!), he actually turned out ok.
 A little old lady appeared and led me to a bus stop. She's explaining to her hearts content. It's in one ear and out the other. All I want to see is a bus to town. “Today Easter Sunday. Seven o'clock. Maybe no more bus”. She says as she takes off waddling up the road beckoning me to follow. I reluctantly follow her up what is a deserted road with no life on it. I'm waiting for someone to jump out of the ditch any minute. She's telling me about the English literature she has read, about Orthodox Easter, and crucially about the hour it'll take to walk to the hostel! All the time she is curious as to the deposit I had paid to the hostel.
 Like an oasis in the desert, a bus rounded the corner. I certainly wasn't at a stop, but stuck out my hand and it stopped. The little old lady wasn't impressed when I got on, her last chance for a bit of business that day gone. It was my first bus that had a conductor to collect my money on my travels. Luckily I had the 2 leva coin that the Turkish guy got for me at the border, otherwise I might have been back to grovel with the old lady! The hostel is up a hill to the back of the town and I eventually make it up there. Along the way I am stopped another couple of times by touts. They actually seemed quite friendly and are my guiding lights in actually finding the hostel.
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