Plovdiv

The first thing I noticed when I got off the bus yesterday afternoon was how green the town of Plovdiv is. The second was how cold it is compared to the other places I’ve been to recently.

As I walked from the station, through the park to the PBI (Plovdiv Backpackers Inn), a sweet scent from the overhanging trees prevailed. Children played, and friends and lovers sprawled on the benches and grass, reading books or simply snoozing. To get my bearings, I stopped at the Symphonia Music Bar which overlooks a manmade body of water.  Before my coffee arrived I realized I had no local currency and they did not accept Euros or my leftover Turkish Lira. Thankfully, there are many “Change” places dotted around so I ran across the street and returned before my drink had gone cold.

Last night I had dinner with Katya, her son Damian, and his friend Sasho. I met Katya and Damian back at the beginning of April, when I hadn’t even reached “C.” It seems so long ago. The group of 20 Bulgarians had been traveling around Europe, and because we’d all missed our connecting train, we spent a night together in the waiting room.

“My mother did not think you would be here,” Damian said, translating as best he could for Katya. “It is very good surprise. We are happy.” I’m happy, too. It’s really good to see them, even though communication is limited.

Damian and Sasho walked me back to the hostel after dinner and will be back again this morning to take me to their home. Katya will “Belgian cook” before I head off to Jakoruda (aka Yakoruda) at 1500.

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