Rila Monastery, Bulgaria

Rila Monastery

Most of the  hostels we stayed in offer tours to local sights so we booked a day trip to Rila Monastery, Bulgaria's biggest tourest attraction other than the Black Sea coast. The monastery is about two hours south of Sophia, accessed by twisty windy mountain roads. Our driver in his small car drove at breakneck speed like a New York cabbie and passed whether it seemed safe or not. One had to have faith and a strong heart to endure.

First we went to a cave where St. John of Rila (or St Ivan if one is Bulgarian) lived the simple life while trying to exorcise his particular demons. It isn't all that deep but has a small narrow entrance that people squeeze through to come out the other side. The belief is that one who passes through cleanses his soul in doing so. People write a prayer on a little piece of paper, fold it up and leave it because doing so will help it be answered. These scraps of paper were stuck in every crack imaginable, left on every surface, hundreds upon hundreds of them. Needless to say, Adam and I left them, too.

The monastery itself is huge. It has a rather complex history so I can't accurately say when it came into existence in its present state. I think it was built in the 11th century but moved to its present location and state in the 1400s. After going through massive gates, we entered into a huge courtyard with a covered walk that had archways all around. In the center is a little church absolutely covered with frescoes inside, under the arches and domes. They are quite colorful, as the icons tend to be, but there are also full, almost Bosch-like depictions of people being consumed by evil devils.

 

I went to a little cafe and bought sweet donuts and very tart yogurt, supposed to be a traditional delicacy. I fed a fair amount of the yogurt to the stray dog and cat that hung around. A flavored syrup of your choice was drizzled over the donuts.

 

The tourists here were way too plentiful and I was glad to leave. I was expecially glad to know that my soul was clean as our driver tested our faith all the way down the mountain.

Sophia, Bulgaria

May 25, 2012

We took a night flight to Sophia, Bulgaria. We had to spend some time at the small airport in Budapest where I drew a cartoon of Adam and I from the reflection in the doors a little ahead of us. When flights came in, people came through those doors and relatives or friends met them on our side. I swear, I never so so much Euro-kissing!

We took a minivan to our hostel that drove through the backstreets past row upon row of Soviet era apartment buildings that reminded me of Cabrini Green with their bleak look and shadowed windows. We drove up bumpy cobblestone streets and crossed trolley tracks that felt like climbing steps. We arrived late and woke up to a town that looked just like what it felt like the night before. We walked down sidewalks that buckled and bowed, with loose stones and holes all over them. There were many old old buildings with crumbling surfaces exposing centuries-old stone construction and more modern glass and steel structures next door or across the street. Sophia also has its fine sector where the museums and ministry buildings are all so-so nicely polished.

There are a many beggars in Sophia, mostly older and sometimes crippled. They tend to be a little aggressive and they are choosy. If one doesn't give enough, they let you know and are not nice about it. Then there are the stray dogs. They are well fed and lazy, as sleek and well cared for as the human beggars are not. They sun themselves or just rest wherever they please and the people walk around them as though it was no big thing. The dogs own Sophia, no question about it.

Bulgaria is where the Eastern Orthodox religion has its roots, though I understand Kiev may dispute that. There are several churches in Sophia. One, supposed to be the first Orthodox church, was built around 450AD. The brickwork is fascinating and one can see signs of many changes on the inside where windows were bricked in, then more built, though not in the exact place. This particular church  is rather rough, reflecting or respecting to its history. Most of the Orthodox churches are fabulous. All have interiors adorned with the most amazing frescoes on every available surface. I was very impressed. When I think about how so many of these were built as a monument to some warrior or a lasting tribute to some great noble who bled his serfs dry to pay for it, heedless to say, it makes my good red blood  boil. Adam and I went to try to take night photos of the big Alexander Nevsky church. It was so lit up that I could only get a bright yellow tint, no matter what camera setting I tied. My best photo was of our shadows on the sidewalk as we took pictures.

I really liked Sophia. It seems there was some sort of honesty about being a poor city, as if thumbing its nose at the rest of the world and simply being what it is. I really think Adam summed it up when he said, "If someone told me this was a capitol, I'd say they were lying."

Budapest

May 24, 2012
Our first European stop was Budapest, one of my favorite cities. After almost 24 hours on airplanes and in airports, I didn't have the energy for too much exploration so we stayed fairly close to the hostel.The main marketplace and bridge over the river are very close. 

We walked across the bridge that once separated the cities Buda and Pest. This bridge is not the one that officially joined the two cities as well as another, Obuda, sometime in the early nineteenth century. That bridge is a little way down the river. Our crossing the bridge was an experience in itself. I am not used to sharing the sidewalk with bicycle traffic during rush hour. Adam kept pulling me out of their paths and a couple times I actually got swished. I survived and so am able to report to you that the Danube is not blue. I can't recall which composer was so enamored with it but he was just spreading rumors. Modern day Danube is green-brown at best, but mostly brown. 

In the morning we went to the main market looking for coffee since our hostel didn't brew before 8 am. It seems nobody else there believes in that early morning cup of joe either. We asked at several little stands where breakfast was being cooked and/or men were enjoying an early morning shot of vodka, but no coffee. Someone finally pointed us in the direction of a small stand with a big line. We got coffee to go, the standard European sludge, in a plastic bathroom cup that burned my fingers. Small sacrifice. 

There is a monument called Shoes Along the Danube (I think) that we hiked to after coffee. They are old shoes, different sizes, different styles, all cast in metal, possibly bronze,and placed along the edge of the river. Some of them have coins, candles or flowers placed in them as tributes, also an Eastern European custom. From what I hear, these are the shoes of people rounded up during the Holocaust. They were lined up along the edge of the river, told to remove their shoes, then shot. Their bodies fell into the river. Don't ask how someone managed to salvage and save the shoes. It is a very effective display and a grim reminder.