Im heading North on Route 81. It's wide, level and runs in tree-lined straight lines across great expanses of flat, fertile farmland. I stop to look back at the mountains I've left behind. I pick up a couple of rocks and set them on my tank bag. The worries about stray dogs still haven't quite left me.
The heady scent of elder and a low tree - new to me, with ornate cream-white flowers hanging like decorations in the pale leaves. The landscape feels like Shropshire on a summer's day.
Paul's directions are excellent. I'm ready for the speed bump at the entrance to Pishurka village and slow down just in time. They are truly vicious and the suspension bottoms out even at this low speed.
His warnings about the roads are spot on. There are potholes everywhere.
This is a beautiful area, unspoiled by industry, but there is great poverty here. The population has dropped dramatically since the communist era. 3000 people once lived and thrived here, but the young people have left to find work elsewhere. Now fewer than 300 remain. Wages are pitiful, but prices are very low as well.
During our evening's chat, Paul gave me the answer to my puzzle of yesterday. How is it worthwhile for someone to watch over 12 goats all day? It seems the going rate for doing this is about 20p per animal per week. So that person would earn £2.40 a week for their time. That is better than nothing, which is what they would have if they didn't watch goats.
The heady scent of elder and a low tree - new to me, with ornate cream-white flowers hanging like decorations in the pale leaves. The landscape feels like Shropshire on a summer's day.
Paul's directions are excellent. I'm ready for the speed bump at the entrance to Pishurka village and slow down just in time. They are truly vicious and the suspension bottoms out even at this low speed.
His warnings about the roads are spot on. There are potholes everywhere.
This is a beautiful area, unspoiled by industry, but there is great poverty here. The population has dropped dramatically since the communist era. 3000 people once lived and thrived here, but the young people have left to find work elsewhere. Now fewer than 300 remain. Wages are pitiful, but prices are very low as well.
During our evening's chat, Paul gave me the answer to my puzzle of yesterday. How is it worthwhile for someone to watch over 12 goats all day? It seems the going rate for doing this is about 20p per animal per week. So that person would earn £2.40 a week for their time. That is better than nothing, which is what they would have if they didn't watch goats.
Paul and Sue's lodge in Stanevo is wonderful. It's beautiful on the inside, full of stylish but understated features, yet the outside takes you back to a rural Bulgaria of times past. Fruit trees, vines, clay walls and red clay tiles. There's an old cart and some structure for drying corn... and even better, there's a small tavern opposite where locals sit and joke and raise their glasses to this curious visitor from abroad.
We took a ride into Lom and wandered the wide streets with their slightly decaying, plaster stucco buildings with, seemingly random, shops shoehorned in at street level. In a somewhat incongruously trendy bar cafe with giant umbrellas out on the street, we enjoy a fried noodle dish and a drink, at a price so low I just shake my head in disbelief.
Later, We drive to stare across the Danube towards Romania; imposing customs buildings behind us a reminder that this river is a significant border between the two countries. Once, not so long ago, Jewish people were sent across at this point, to meet their dreadful fate in the concentration camps of Germany. A ferry sits chained to the wharf. No one is crossing today.
We took a ride into Lom and wandered the wide streets with their slightly decaying, plaster stucco buildings with, seemingly random, shops shoehorned in at street level. In a somewhat incongruously trendy bar cafe with giant umbrellas out on the street, we enjoy a fried noodle dish and a drink, at a price so low I just shake my head in disbelief.
Later, We drive to stare across the Danube towards Romania; imposing customs buildings behind us a reminder that this river is a significant border between the two countries. Once, not so long ago, Jewish people were sent across at this point, to meet their dreadful fate in the concentration camps of Germany. A ferry sits chained to the wharf. No one is crossing today.
For those of you considering heading towards Bulgaria, you really must take some time to stay with Paul and Sue at Stanevo Lodge. Paul's a mine of information about Bulgaria and you will get a rare chance to see inside the heart of this extraordinary country. Here's their blog:
www.stanevolodge.blogspot.co.uk
www.stanevolodge.blogspot.co.uk
stanevo de mooiste plek op aarde
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