‘Old Stuff’ and Olives

On the 9^th October, we woke up to a cold crisp morning with a bit of mist in the air. It feels very autumny, so, having topped up Heidi’s water tank with water from a roadside spring near Burgas in Bulgaria, we headed south towards Greece looking for more summer. We travelled through rolling wooded hills, with little traffic on the excellent newly surfaced road (Wow!) other than a steady stream of ancient timber trucks. We briefly joined what must be a major truck route into Turkey, complete with scary Heidi-eating potholes, and follow an artic’ as he meanders all over both sides of the road trying to avoid said potholes, before thankfully turning off onto a better and again completely deserted section.

We crossed into Greece just beyond Svilengrad having avoided a short cut through Turkey (We needed a ‘green card’ for the insurance that we didn’t have). The Bulgarian border guards were friendly and more interested in practising their English than checking us or the van out. Then it was across a short bit of no mans land to the Greek border. There was a barrier across the road and no signs in any language. It transpired that I had to walk across the road to the office, where I was received with a grunt, a cursory look at both our passports (Elaine had remained in Heidi), and then an “OK”. I walked back to the van, the barrier was raised, and we were through. So if anybody is looking for a good spot to smuggle anything or anybody into Greece, here’s your spot!

Since we’d come down out of the Bulgarian hills, the weather had rapidly improved. The sun was shining, and it felt hot and dry. As we headed south, the temperature continued to rise and by the time we reached the coast it must have been at least 10 – 15 degrees warmer (in the low 30’s again). After heading west on a good bit of fast motorway, we turn off towards Moroneia and stopped for the night down by the small fishing harbour of Agios Charlambos. The police are by later to check us out. There’s no problem with us staying here, but “watch out for the Bulgarian and the Albanian Mafia” he says. What does that mean?!

An ideal parking spot at Agios Charlambros harbour …apart from the Mafia?

We stayed for several days. The weather was idyllic, and it was very quiet and peaceful. We did some washing, which dried quickly in the sun and explored some of the local antiquities. There’s part of a Byzantine wall; a fortification around the harbour, a Roman Propylon (a ‘Monumental Gateway’), various mosaic floors and a little further along the coast an impressive amphitheatre and then ‘Ancient Ismara’. Ancient Ismara supposedly had an acropolis, and ancient gateway and a wine-press. We spent a long time looking for them, but only managed to find the gateway. How can you lose an acropolis! There’s also the remains of an Early Christian Basilica (6thC AD) near the harbour; unfortunately fenced off and locked.

the excavated Roman Propylon

An almost complete mosaic floor just ‘hanging about in the olive groves’

The partly restored theatre

ancient gateway into Ismara

The ground is dry and rocky and predominantly covered in olive groves; they obviously like it like that. There are a mixture of varieties grown here. Some small, some quite large, and in varying stages of ripeness. I’d always thought that olives were rock hard and quite inedible until they’d been soaked many times, but some of the big black ones here seem almost ripe already and quite juicy (or should that be oily?) when you squeeze them. We’ve recently read that some varieties are left to ripen on the trees before they are harvested. We don’t know much about olives as you can see; something else for the ‘self-education’ list. It’s surprising how long this self-education list seems to be, what with history, culture, religion, architecture, languages, unknown flora and fauna, international cuisine etc. etc. No chance of getting bored then!

..and to top things off. The sun set, day after day, in a fiery ball over the harbour wall

On Monday 13^th, we go into the village; a quiet little place with a couple of small shops. We buy what veg we can find (there seems very little about and it’s not up to much) and some fresh bread. The shopkeeper and the locals seem friendly and we try out our first few words of Greek; which seems to be appreciated.

Next, it’s along the coast for a bit. We’re suddenly out of the harsh, dry, rocky terrain and now it’s flat and sandy again. It seems the only thing that grows here is the odd holiday villa; otherwise it just looks barren and empty scrubland. We stopped at Imeros beach for a couple of days and it remained warm enough for swimming in the sea or wandering this completely deserted stretch of beach accompanied by the ‘guard dogs’. There were 3 of them. They made a hell of a fuss when we first arrived and, with recent events in mind, we nearly didn’t stay, but they turned out to be harmless enough. For the whole time we were there, they remained permanently by our side and followed us on walks for several miles. When we left, they ran after Heidi until they were exhausted. We wondered if they were victims of the hard times here, and whether they were owned and looked after in the not too distant past? They seemed a lot more clingy that the ones we’d come across in Bulgaria.

The ‘Guard Dogs’

miles of deserted beach

On the 15^th, the weather turned very grey and humid and we moved on. Heading inland a bit, avoiding some of the numerous lagoons and salt marshes that make up this stretch of coast, we found we were driving across huge cotton fields as far as the eye could see. They were busy harvesting the stuff and there were cotton wool balls everywhere along the verges of the roads.

Cotton Fields stretching as far as the eye can see

We stopped for the night near Fanari on a narrow strip of land between the sea and a lagoon, the home of Flamingos and Pelicans. Having again struggled to find much fresh food in the few small shops (what do the locals do?) we did a quick trip to Lidl in Xanthi. We were going to head up into the hills, but we could hardly make them out in the low grey cloud, so we went back to the coast for a couple of days and stayed at Porto Lagos; a fishing harbour and small cargo ship port. We spotted a big black 4×4 with tinted windows and Bulgarian plates, it’s occupants, we assumed, lunching at one of the fish tavernas. Were they ‘the Mafia’ we had been warned about? There’s a fair few similar cars around. Or were we just being paranoid? For much of Bulgaria, this is their closest bit of coast.

colourful beehives in the woods at Porto Lagos. There’s a lot of beehives around. The Greeks like their honey!

Pomegranates growing in gardens near Fanari

..and Quince

Saturday 18^th, the grey murk had finally gone and it was back to sunshine and clear blue skies. Time to head for the hills. We can see them now! We stop at Xanthi; it’s market day and ludicrously busy. Easing Heidi through the throng of shoppers and not really sure where we’re going, we eventually find parking. It’s bedlam as we get moved along with the crowd past endless stalls, following an old lady pushing a pram full of pot plants. I assume she was selling them and opting for a novel ‘moving stall’. So THIS is where everyone gets their fresh fruit and veg. from! We get 4 Pomegranates for 2euros; about half the UK price.

Escaping the throng we head up the hill to the old part of town with it’s winding cobbled streets, cars and mopeds emerging from the unlikeliest looking ‘streets’. There are several impressive old neo-classical mansion houses hiding amongst the more ordinary. These mansions were once owned by tobacco merchants (around 1860 – 1890). Tobacco is still grown around here, but doesn’t appear to be that common. It’s not something we’re used to recognising though. Maybe it’s all mostly harvested by now?

tiny, busy streets in Xanthi

originally home to the local tobacco merchants

Hidden amongst it all we find this tiny church..

the entrance to a tiny church, built into the wall of a garden above

inside – a typical display of icons

We’ve been looking into and trying to understand all these icons; rather an alien concept to us. Various sources refer to them as ‘windows to God or into the spiritual realm’, ‘a form of / means to prayer’ etc. Some sources go as far as to say “they participate in the reality which they represent”. They are sometimes referred to as tools for education of the masses, bearing in mind that for the majority of history ‘the masses’ have been illiterate. Some are credited with the performance of miracles. In our minds, that is surely down to the saint that they represent, but the distinction seems a bit vague. Icons are not ‘worshiped’, but they are ‘venerated’, ‘honoured’, ‘respected’; or again, is that the saint they represent? It seems odd that you often see several icons of the same saint in one location, indeed, some are virtually identical.

www.wikipedia.org/wiki/icon provides a good overview.

There’s also the question of why there are Sooo many shrines or ‘little churches’ dotted everywhere here. They are particularly prevalent along roads and their numbers increase with the severity of the bends and the corresponding drop over the edge! The majority, it seems are erected as a memorial to victims of road accidents and some as a ‘thank you for sparing me’. The old ones never seem to be removed. They just put newer, bigger or more elaborate ones alongside. Some even have a small fenced off garden, picnic benches and often a water supply.

a fairly basic design..

..but still full of various icons ..and that’s not a small bottle of ouzo for passing travellers, its olive oil for the perpetually burning lamp

A more elaborate one. It’s not obvious from the picture, but this is on a post at the side of the road. Equally full of icons and oil lamps. There are even designs on the windows.

..a little larger complete with courtyard

Back on one of the main streets of Xanthi, it’s all too busy and noisy for our liking, with all the cafes full to bursting. We find our way out-of-town, rather suspecting the sat-nav of having a laugh at our expense, and stop for lunch at a roadside picnic spot. All is still and quiet. It’s still feeling hot in the sun (28c) and we enjoy the cooler breezes off the hills. I wonder if I could get used to living so shoulder to shoulder in a place like Xanthi with no personal space and it never quiet? Doesn’t appeal much!

Olive oil, Tomatoes and Feta cheese – the makings of a typical Greek lunch (with free view)

Moving on, we decide to go looking for ‘The Ancient Fort of Kalyva’.

At a height of 627m above sea level, the fort of Kalyva, complete with a still intact water cistern, was constructed during the Macedonian King Phillip 2^nd’s time (359-336BC) , in a commanding position, as part of a series of forts controlling the Nestos Valley. Various kingdoms used it until the reign of Emperor Justinian’s (527- 565AD)

It turns out to be 9km up a tortuously windy and mainly single-track road. That’s the trouble with randomly choosing to follow a brown tourist sign. When we eventually get there we find it closed off with a high fence all round and locked gates. It’s off in the trees somewhere and there’s nothing to see. Humph. We’re beginning to discover this is common enough practice around here. Perhaps it would be open in season? We’ll think twice before following signs for miles and miles in the future. There’s a picnic site and just about room for us to park up so we stop for the night. It’s very quiet and peaceful with only the distant sound of goat bells reaching us from the valley below.

The morning brings another clear, crisp, sunny day. It feels cold first thing, but soon warms as we head off looking for the Nestos Gorge. It’s marked on far too small a scale map to be useful. We choose a likely looking road. We have various maps, all apparently contradicting each other. Either everything is marked as a ‘minor road’ or one seems to have been picked at random and highlighted as the ‘main route’. Bearing in mind that even a medium quality ‘minor road’ around here would be considered a footpath by most UK drivers, and that Heidi isn’t exactly light on her feet, it’s important which one is picked! Today’s choice seems surprisingly well surfaced and wide. We wind through hills covered in a mix of deciduous trees, their growth stunted by the dry climate and poor soil, until we reach a series of reservoirs, beyond which we hope lies the gorge.

And then the road ends. There’s a barriered off tunnel and an imposing dam and hydro-electric scheme still being worked on. Just as we’re about to turn around and retrace our lost steps, ‘Mr. Security’ approaches us and with a smile and a bit of sign language encourages us to drive up to the very top of the last dam for a look. The scale is enormous! From the top you can more easily see what has been done and the fact that half the mountain has been sliced away. We’re not sure, but rather suspect, that this is where our gorge used to be! Not what we were expecting, but perhaps no less impressive? We lunch and spend the afternoon reading and snoozing overlooking one of the lower reservoirs as we ponder the need for all the energy that can potentially be created here. The resources, fuel, and millions of tonnes of concrete that goes into creating a scheme like this are astounding! Now if everybody had a solar panel on their roof and were as economical with energy usage as Heidi. We have a very quiet night and marvel at the starry sky – shame about the unnecessary street lights on the dam in the distance.

Through the hills, alongside reservoirs, looking for the Nestos Gorge.

The view from the uppermost dam – difficult to show the HUGE scale. There are what look like tiny toy trucks and diggers working down there somewhere.

The view from our ‘balcony’ overlooking one of the lower reservoirs. A beautiful, almost silent spot.

We spend the morning in our continuing quest to learn some Greek with the aid of a teach yourself CD. Today’s task is getting to grip with the word ‘the’. How difficult can that be? Difficult enough; there are 7!! Different words for ‘the’ in Greek. There’s masculine, feminine and neuter, plurals and other subtle changes so it ‘sounds right’ with the surrounding words. Umm, we think?

In the afternoon we travel on more very quiet roads with the steeper hills giving way to flatter plains. Most of the fields are ploughed at this time of year so, difficult to know what’s normally growing. We increasingly spot vineyards as we approach the Ancient City of Philippi, on the outskirts of modern-day Krinides. That’s Philippi as in biblical St. Paul’s ‘letter to the Philippians’. It’s a huge site with the excavated remains of this once great city. There are multiple basilicas and churches, the Roman forum and the bathhouse. After coughing up 3euro each (we thought it would be more) we spend hours there trying to ‘see’ how it once was. For the latter part of the afternoon we are the only visitors, which only served to emphasise the scale of the place.

The Huge Archeological Site of Philippi. The centre area is the Forum. On the far side is the remains of one of several Basilicas

Elaine tries out the acoustics in the theatre

There’s the remains of craftmanship on a huge scale everywhere.

it was BIG!

I wonder how many modern doorways will still be intact after 2000 years?

the remains of the font / baptistry in ‘the octagon complex’ in the shape of a cross

Umm. Fairly sure that’s a loo seat (one of several in the bath house)

Philippi took it’s name from Philip II king of Macedonia when he captured and fortified the original colony of Krenedes in 356BC. The city prospered greatly in the Helenistic period when it acquired it’s fortification walls, theatre, public buildings and private residences.

 In 42BC the Roman emperor Octavian fought for and changed the character of the city forming a Roman colony developing it as an economic administrative and artistic centre. The ‘Via Egnatia’ (the main route from Rome, across Macedonia, including some of current Albania, to Constantinople) passed through the city in the 2^nd century BC making it more important and transforming it into a major centre of the region.

The visit of St. Paul the Apostle, who founded the first Christian church here in 49/50AD, changed the personality of the city once again. The predomination of the ‘new religion’ and the transfer of the capital of the Roman Empire to Constantinople lent Philippi considerable lustre and reputation. In the early Christian period (4th-6th century AD), there was considerable more building with the cathedral dedicated to St. Paul and four magnificent basilicas.

In the Bible, Acts chapter 16 describes how Paul received a vision guiding him to Philippi. Accompanied by Silas, Timothy and possibly Luke (the author of Acts) he preached the Gospel. He baptised Lydia, a purple dye merchant in the nearby river and exorcised a demon from a slave girl who caused a great uproar in the city. This led to his and Silas’ public beating and imprisonment. An earthquake caused the prison walls to tumble and the gates to fly open. When the sleeping jailer awoke, he prepared to kill himself knowing he would be punished. Paul stopped him, indicating that all the prisoners were still there; the jailer becoming one of the first Christians.

Paul visited the city at least on two other occasions, in 56 and 57. The ‘Epistle to the Philippians’ dates from around 61-62AD and shows the immediate impact of Paul’s instruction.

the remains of what was probably Paul’s prison cell

Elaine tries out Lydia’s Baptistry

A pool in the river alongside – more as it would have actually been for Lydia

The inside of a relatively new church / baptistry built alongside (if you don’t fancy full immersion in a cold stream?)

artwork on the ceiling depicting Paul’s miraculous release from jail..

..and his dream telling him to go

 

We drive to the nearby village of Palia Kavalia and spend a couple of days walking. There’s a deep river valley there with some huge trees and a waterfall hidden in it’s depths.

a walkway deep in the river valley amongst the huge twisted old trees (unusual around here with the usual lack of water)

another stunning sunset at our parking spot

a few ‘obstructions’ in the path

Elaine takes up goat herding

As usual in this part of the world, there have been a lot of changes over time here:

Palia Kavalia was inhabited as long ago as 356BC and was part of the Macedonian Kingdom ruled by King Philip 2^nd. However it was abandoned during the Byzantine period in favour of the coastal town of Christoupolis. Christoupolis was renamed Kavalia by the Ottaman Turks when they invaded and occupied the area in the 1391, and the Christian inhabitants once again returned to Palia Kavalia in the hills. With the Ottamans finally ousted and with the effects of the widespread urbanisation of the 1950’s, Palia Kavalia is now only a small village.

All this to-ing and fro-ing, along with a big influx of Greek Christians to the area in the 1923 ‘exchanges’ has meant a well-worn ancient path between here and the coast: we set off to explore the route. There is now a well-signed trail and we got as far as the spring that used to provide the coastal town with its water supply via a series of channels and a very impressive aqueduct.

The view over the pass and down to Kavala (previously Christoupolis and previously again, when Paul first visited Neopolis). Shame about the deteriorating weather. That should be a blue, blue sea dotted with islands in the distance

By the 23^rd, the weather has turned. The cloud hangs low over the hills and it’s rained overnight (The first rain we’ve had in Greece so far). Heading down to the coast again, the wind increases, the rain starts in earnest and the waves crash over the coastal road, so having stocked up with food, diesel and gas we find a relatively sheltered car park and hunker down. A brief respite from the weather allows us a look at the old town on the ‘Panagia’ peninsula. We climb up the increasingly steep streets to the castle and hence up the very narrow, winding stairs to the view from the top of the tower. You can see why this spot was chosen! You can see for miles; both inland and out to sea. The most famous ‘sight’ here is the aqueduct; the one bringing water to the city from the spring in the hills we visited yesterday. It was built/rebuilt by the Ottamans during the 16thC, although there was probably a previous Roman one here before.

The bay of Kavala from the castle. Heidi is hiding in the woodlands in the distant centre.

The old town with the castle.

The famous aqueduct squeezing in amongst the more modern, and very busy, city below.

The aqueduct and the more modern town of Kavala. It’s amazing how densely packed everything is. The roads are jam-packed and it seems it’s the norm to double and triple park. Look, they’ve even squeezed houses in under the aqueduct.

 

Well this seems to have become a bit of an ‘epic’; we’ve done a lot in our first 2 weeks in Greece. Time to leave you and have our evening ‘meze’:

Almond stuffed green olives, pickled garlic, and freshly toasted bread spread with black olive tapenade (olive paste) – yumm!

 

 

Bulgaria – Beasts and Beaches

 

Bulgarian visitors!

Bulgarian friends hehe. It took 2 days to achieve this.

What a difference a border makes – as you enter Bulgaria from Romania following the Black Sea Coastal road, the topography stays the same but the roads are tree-lined and the fields are smaller. Around the edges of the fields there seems to room for wild flowers and wild-life, and as well as the standard corn and sunflowers there are also now fields of peppers and aubergines.

About 10km south of the border we reached the small fishing village of Krapec; it has a couple of year round groceries come cafes plus a couple of small resort style hotels and apartments, which are all shut up when we arrive during the last week of September.

We take a small tarmaced road left out of the village, which passes an old camping area before becoming a dirt beach road. The beach is pretty stunning; miles of empty sand and sand dunes. We parked on an area of hard sand behind the dunes, which gives us protection from the prevailing North- North-Easterly wind.

Can you see us? a tiny white spec – there’s no one else here!

just a few paces from Heidi’s front door!

With the weather finally in our favour, we spend a week there; swimming and walking. Either side of the town are saltwater lagoons, which form part of the Shabla Nature Reserve. We’re closest to the Drankulak Lake. This is one of the main migratory routes for birds on their way South to East Africa via the Bosphorus or the Eastern Mediterranean. They are the Winter homes for thousands of wildfowl that have spent the Summer on the Siberian Tundra. The rare Red Breasted Goose for example. Unfortunately for us, they’re not here yet.

It’s very quiet here with very few people about; only the sound of the wind and waves for company. Our peaceful life is only interrupted by a brief trip to the nearby town of Shabla to buy a few supplies, an off-road rally along the beach on a Sunday morning, and a posse of mice playing tag for nights on end!

difficult to catch the action as they go screaming by – part of a 4×4 tour I think. There were English, Dutch, German cars as well as the more expected Bulgarian and Romanian.

The small town of Krapec under stormy skys

Out Walking past the rich soils of these parts

We’ve been attempting to humanely trap the mice since they made an appearance in Romania, but traps Mark 1 and Mark 2 failed to produce results, so back to the drawing board. Mark 3, is an 10 litre empty paint bucket, placed on a piece of lino, with a slice of apple underneath and one edge propped up with a roll of gaffer tape to which a long piece of string is attached. The trap is a success yielding five mice; the downside is that it is man operated so involves the operator trying to keep awake, whilst sitting in a chair with a torch to provide ‘mood lighting’. Although the mice were released quite a distance from the van, we felt at least a couple were return visitors but also they were telling their friends the route into the van! After a week of this I’m afraid we got mean, we turned to WMDs (weapons for mouse destruction) basically flypaper for mice, very effective yielding 4 mice in total. As I write we’ve now been mice free for over a week.

Whilst in Vama Veche, just over the border in Romania, you’ll recall that ‘Battie’ paid us in visit. We thought he only stayed the one-day and left the same evening. However two weeks later, whilst we were on an early evening mouse watch (in the dark, blinds open, moonlight) Battie appears from the over cab bed! And this was after we’d taken everything out of the van and given Heidi a thorough Spring-clean in an attempt to make her less attractive to the mices. Can he really have been in the van that long! Anyway, he’s definitely gone now, or is writing that tempting fate?

In much of East Europe, ‘camping’ used to mean renting a small chalet, a cross between a beach-hut and a shed. During the communist era, this is where the common man went for their holidays. With many Eastern Block countries having very little or no coast, the Black Sea, was the destination of choice for many many thousands of people. We have found acres and acres of these chalets in varying stages of repair. The demand is obviously no longer there, since the fall of the Iron Curtain. People are able to travel further a field, stay in one of the new holiday resorts, or camp for free using their own caravan or tent. Having said that, many are in stunning locations and very cheap to rent and some are being to be restored and improved.

The remains of Krapec camp site

Staying in one of the chalets in the almost derelict Campsite at Krapec, we found Diana from Moldova; a young fashion designer who lived in Bucharest having completed her MA there. She had been staying there for three months to get inspiration for her work. She loved the place, as we did, saying how she preferred the simple life with space to think about what she was doing with her life rather than the busy city, where it was always a rush to work work work, to be able to afford rent on a flat that she didn’t like living in. She was an interesting person. We talked about the rights and wrongs in the world and the harm that the television does, telling people what they ‘should’ have. She was perhaps surprised to find that we, from the perceived established and rich West, agreed with her.

Diana was maintaining, and making use of, a vegetable garden established by a previous occupant and told us that here in Bulgaria, farmers are generally still able to grow what they want, well, in good soil without the use of pesticides etc. In Romania, most farmers are now told what they can and can’t grow, having to abandon the traditional peppers, tomatoes and aubergines in favour of, for example, huge fields of sunflowers encouraged along with plenty of chemicals for oil production and the soil is deteriorating as a result. It’s a mad mad world.

We had decided to leave Krapec Beach on Saturday 27^th September, however the weather had other ideas, Friday night brought torrential rain, thunder and lightning. By Saturday morning we were too late, the road was flooded and the sand waterlogged. Heidi was stuck. The rain continued until 4 o’clock in the afternoon, then came the wind and thankfully by Sunday the floods were subsiding.

Saturday’s view. Was there water there before?!

a somewhat different seascape (taken from the same spot as the one a couple of days ago – with the turquoise water!)

The beach ROAD – our means of escape! Yes, that’s us up ahead to the right of the track.

We tried to move Heidi but she just dug deeper into the sand. Peter waited by Heidi to see if he could commandeer one of the 4x4s that regularly used the road. Meanwhile I went in search of help at the Camping hoping to find Diana who had friends in the village, but instead found a ‘weather beaten knight in sandy slippers’ who kindly came to the rescue with his trustee old wreck of a Peugeot 405. Unfortunately it wasn’t powerful enough, so a second knight with a tractor was sent for, and slowly but surely he pulled Heidi free, our heroes. Back on solid ground, we bid each other a cheerful farewell, and then they rode off into the sunshine with our heartfelt thanks and a small reward (“for the tractor” – which certainly needed a bit of money spent on it!). The above was achieved with not a single word of common language. We thought he had indicated to come to the local beach café for a drink, but when we got there, we fond it like most others, shut up for the season with no one about. The kindness of strangers – amazing!

Monday we bid a fond farewell to Krapec, and head to the nearby town of Shabla to stock up with provisions again. Shabla seemed a pleasant little place. It’s got everything; shops, banks, cafes etc. The shops weren’t exactly obvious. There’s very little signage or advertising, and you never know what you’ll find when you get inside. Vegetables were a bit of an issue. It seems that since the locals all grow their own or get them from a neighbour, there is little need and so little choice. Everything, of course, is in need of upgrade and repair, especially the roads! They are working on the roads, putting in kerbstones and paving, which of course only makes it worse at the moment. Oh, but most importantly, Shabla has a hardware store with an owner who knows the word “mouse” and sells ‘mouse glue’!

The bright lights of Shabla – home of ‘mouse glue’

We head along the coast until we reach Nos Sabla and ‘Shabla Tulza’, one of three inland lakes along this stretch, and another empty beach. Again in the woods above the beach are hundreds and hundreds of derelict chalets. The sun continues to shine so we enjoy lunch in a rustic seafood restaurant overlooking the Black Sea and walk to the lighthouse at Port Kariya, another small fishing village a couple of kilometres along the coast. There’s plenty of unfinished development here and a ridiculous ‘park’ funded by the EU of course.

Miles of empty beach again – suits us! but it’s beginning to feel cold for swimming..

 

more derelict ‘chalets’ – seems such a waste

These are still just about a going concern – what a spot!

Mmm Delicious, and cheap!

Good job there’s an English translation! The letters are a bit of a struggle

The small fishing village of Kariya.

The ridiculous EU funded ‘park’ complete with far too many ‘features’, far too many benches, as many different types of paving and surface as they could fit in, smartly surfaced car parking spaces (all roads in and to the village are simply sandy tracks!) There are many examples like this, but this is one of the worst. It’s obviously all about repeating a winning formula to get money out of the EU. What’s the point!

Thursday 2^nd October we head off along the coast, and stay for one night in Royal Cove 3km south of the town of Kavarna, before reaching Zlatni Pjasaci or ‘Golden Sands’ as it is more popularly known; Bulgaria’s second largest purpose-built resort. A bit of shock after the empty beaches we’ve got used to. We escape the madness and opt for a walk to the Aladzha Monastery through the wooded hillside of the Golden Sands Nature Park. The monastery turns out to be a series of hermits caves half way up the side of a rock face. Information boards showed the monks’ cells, a church and even an area for funerals and burials dug out of the soft rock. An odd choice of ‘residency’! I suppose it was pretty safe from attack or unwanted disturbance though.

Kaliakra Nature Reserve. The coast now changes to sandy cliffs with very little access to the beach except through barriered off ‘resorts’! It’s another good spot to watch the migrating birds, but it was very windy and we gave it a miss

 

a brief stay at ‘Royal Cove’, Kavarna – the usual mix of a decaying past and a few hopeful new developments. Much of the building works have obviously been stopped for some years and presumably will stay like that indefinitely?

a useful feature of ‘Royal Cove’ – one of many natural springs in this area. The locals were collecting water here so we followed suit and topped up our tanks.

right on the beach at ‘Golden Sands’. NOOoooo!

 

Lonely Planet said if you wanted to party all night, top up your tan all day, and didn’t want to know you were in a country called Bulgaria come here. About sums it up really! Viagra, Party Poppers, Herbal High anyone?

..or what about a knock off handbag? Any designer brand name you want. I’ve got no problem with the fakes, it’s the people who feel they have to spend money they probably haven’t got to have one! Why!!

and don’t even get us started on this. We could think of a few things we’d like to do to ‘the administration’!

Aladzha Monastery / hermit caves

Shame it wasn’t working as intended.
 On the way through the Nature Park, we came across this embellished spring illistating Bulgarian History – The idea was that the red lettered dates (periods of ‘free existence’) flowed strongly and the black lettered dates(periods of foreign rule) weekly: Spout 1- 681- Establishment of the Bulgarian State and the first Bulgarian Kingdom lasting 337 years. Spout 2 – 1018 – The Byzantine Invasion and Byzantine rule lasting 169 years. Spout 3 – 1187 – Restoration of the Bulgarian State (The 2nd Bulgarian Kingdom) lasting 209 years. Spout 4 – Ottaman invasion and rule for for 482 years. Spout 5 – 1878 – Liberty of Bulgaria “Bulgaria Forever” It was constructed in 1981, the 1300th ‘Aniversary of Bulgaria’

They’re trying to keep route finding in the Natural Park very natural!

We continued to the city of Varna and visit the extensive remains of the Roman Baths, before a bit of unwanted ‘adventure’. Just as we were leaving Elaine was bitten by one of the many stray dogs. It was such a shock as there was no provocation or warning. He just walked past and bit her! So foregoing the Cathedral, we opted for the taxi ride to the local outpatients clinic. The taxi driver, having been flagged down by the attendant at the Roman site, kindly came in with us and explained the situation to the receptionist. The place was full and we waited over 2 hours to be seen. The wound was cleaned up along with a tetanus injection and luckily someone who spoke English was found to explain that we needed to go to a different department in the main hospital; the Dog Bite Unit. Being late on a Saturday, we would have to now wait till Monday morning. Elaine managed to walk back across town, and it was only after we’d got back to Heidi that the effects of the shock began to show.

plenty of Roman bits just lying about..

 

what’s left of the old heating system..

 

How it once was – pretty clever these Romans

NOT what was expected from the visit! Looks a whole lot better now it’s been cleaned up!

Sunday, and the bite wounds no longer needed a dressing. The sun was shining and Peter was 46 years young. We strolled through the park, supposedly the largest in Europe stretching 8km along the coast with steps down to the beach, and stopped at one of many trendy cafes, before returning back along the beach. We discovered, to our surprise, that at least one of the streams flowing through the park came from a thermal spring. By the time the water reached the beach the water was still quite hot and was piped off to create constantly flowing hot showers and a small thermal pool right on the beach. It had obviously been there a long time and was very rough and ready, made of concrete and various cobbled together bits of pipework. It was popular with the locals though. I’m surprised they haven’t made more of a feature of it. Later, tempted by one of the beachfront restaurants, we decide on a birthday lunch, lingering for much of the afternoon and consuming perhaps a little too much local rose wine. A good day.

The extensive park at Varna

Natural hot springs on the beach

 

Varna beach

Birthday lunch 😀

Monday 6^th, and we were up early to walk across town to the Main Hospital where we were relieved of 50lev ‘surgery fee’, before being directed to the doctor surprisingly quickly. A quick look and a bit of discussion later and we were on our way with nothing further needed. It seems that an anti-rabies injection carried a greater risk than was present from the dog bite. They do in fact make every effort to vaccinate all the wild dogs here with a tag on their ears showing they’ve been done. Of course we didn’t actually notice whether the dog in question had one, but looking around, we have yet to spot one without a tag, even out in the sticks. We were also encouraged by the fact that the dog’s teath hadn’t actually torn Elaine’s trousers, meaning there hadn’t actually been direct contact; amazing considering the size of the hole in her leg! Asking whether we could have our ‘surgery fee’ back then, the doctor smiled, saying “no, it had already been utilised”. Hmm! He pointed out that, had Elaine had the injection it would have been free, along with any follow-up treatment if it was needed. This may well be how the local system works, and our ‘Europe deal’ of course means we only get treated the same as the locals.

We decided against the museums in Varna as nothing sounded particularly gripping. We visited a small local church as we walk back across town. Like the cathedral, which we did manage after our ‘incident’ on Saturday, its covered in murals inside with very dark, almost black, painted screen dividing the ‘high alter’ / sanctuary from the rest of the church. There are very few chairs and a great many candles housed in oven like contraptions with extractor fans to protect the paintings. As usual in the orthodox churches, there are a couple of significant icons on display with people coming, often very briefly, to ‘visit’ or say a prayer before them. We must try to learn a bit more about these, to our eyes strange, customs.

Varna Orthodox Cathedral. The main hospital is in the street behind – should you need to know..

leafy and surprisingly quiet..

 

A major port too..

…but we still found a relatively quiet ‘Heidi spot’

Even considering our unwanted escapes, we decided we quite liked Varna. It had a good unhurried and surprisingly un-busy feeling to it. It’s often very difficult to tell what makes us like one place and not another. I wonder if opinions would change on a second visit?

After Varna we continued down the coast, stopping at Skorpoouci for a couple of nights. It was very dead at this time of year and the weather had turned cold. It rained hard all night, prompting us to make up our minds to head south to Greece fast. We passed the infamous ‘Sunny Beach’ with its thousands of hotels and apartments; and they are still building! and stopped briefly at Nesebar, the ancient fishing village just to the south. They have thankfully made an effort to keep Nesebar looking like it once was, and even the new construction looks like the unusual original with its timber planked upper stories. It was very quiet this late in the season, but the restaurant touts were still there trying hard. We stopped for the night by a roadside spring and topped up the water tank. Springs are fairly plentiful in these parts; very handy for us. It seems there is plenty of water about, with most of the fields irrigated by pumping systems attached to wells.

A deserted beach at Skorpolouci…

..backed by woodlands

..ruined by rubbish everywhere. It’s a popular free-camping spot. Why don’t people who like camping in amazing places feel it’s necessary to take it away! Argh!!

A tapped Hot Spring. Another feature of this coast ..connected to the nearby hotel

10th centuary St. Stephen’s Church, Nesebar.

Unusual, predominantly timber planked buildings and narrow cobbled lanes in Nesebar.

On Thursday 9th October we woke to a cold, crisp day and drive through rolling hills. The fields are freshly ploughed, and the leaves in the large areas of forest are turning. It’s feeling very autumny. That is until we head up over a pass and drive down the other side towards warm, dry and sunny Greece. The change was dramatic. It must be a least 10 degrees warmer. The Bulgarian border guards were friendly, practising their English and asking about our trip and where Manchester and St.Asaph (where we were born) were. Then it was through the usual bit of no man’s land to the Greek border. There were no signs, and the Greek border guards stayed in their booth on the other side of the road. I walked across with the passports whilst Elaine stayed in the van. They checked the watermarks were genuine etc. and then grunted ‘ok’ and raised the barrier. They may have been able to see Elaine from a camara, but I doubt it, and no check to see who or what else we might have been bringing in. A taste of Greek bureaucracy. It’s about 300km south to our destination on the Aegean Sea. Let’s get ‘truckin’.