Tripping With Toby: Plovdiv

Horowitz Travel- May 9, 2017- Plovdiv

We walked down the hill to Baba Kunka's house for breakfast thinking of omelets, but she didn't find her chickens last night, only her rooster. She prepared a spread of local cheese, jam, herbal tea in Disney themed mugs, salami, and fritters. She showed us traditional costumes worn by her family during a special festival in the village. No one is allowed in the village during that time without a costume. She's a most gracious and happy lady trying to make ends meet on a pension of $100 a month. It would be enough, but she has to help her married children financially. She holds down two jobs and earns some money weaving small mats. We bought some as a courtesy and also paid whatever we wanted to for our meal. Patrick also gives her money when he brings clients. He really has a soft heart. She talked to him non-stop about her family and news in the village. He's an important outlet for her. Baba's house is of wood and has several rooms and a basement. She has electricity and indoor plumbing but cooks on a wood stove. She keeps rabbits and chickens as well as an extensive garden.

We passed a memorial board in the village displaying pictures of many deceased residents. One was of a man in a donkey cart. Patrick told us that the cart went door to door every day for years. I said that it was sweet they put up a picture of the donkey when it died. Patrick thought that was hysterical. The picture was in honor of the man.

We drove a bit to the House of Roses in the Valley of Roses in Gyozleme. It's basically a shop selling articles made from rose oil. They had liquer, candy, lotions and potions. The saleswoman noted that we had lovely skin. I thought to myself, "And that was without rose oil." We bought stuff anyway.

The next valley was that of The Thracian Kings. There are around 1,000 burial mounds and temples dotting the landscape. The first one we stopped at was closed. Patrick was livid about how Bulgaria doesn't know how to run its tourism industry. The EU gave Bulgaria money to develop sites but not enough to staff them.

Luckily, the next tomb was open for business. Located in Kazanlak, it was of typical beehive construction. It was found intact before robbers could raid it, so all the artifacts were salvaged. There was much gold and exquisite personal belongings of the man who was never actually buried there. Some tombs are ceremonial meaning the person for whom it is built might have died in battle and the body was never found. Other temples become tombs when they are no longer used for worship. Each is a work of art.

We drove through a raging storm hopeful that it would clear up when we arrived at the Roman baths in Histeria. Bulgaria has the third largest collection of ancient sites in Europe after Greece and Rome. They are particularly proud of these baths. We've seen baths all over, but never with running water. Warm water can be seen flowing through channels where pipes used to be and into stone pools. Steam rose in places where the air was cooler. And yes, the rain stopped as we arrived.

The Thracian Temple at Starosel was our last stop. As was the custom, temples that weren't used for tombs were sealed, thus preserving them for posterity. Details of the construction fascinate me. Aside from the conical pile of stones rising into a beehive roof perfectly balanced and weighing tons, there were visible iron rods joining one stone to the next giving stability and strength.

We drove to Plovdiv, the second largest city in Bulgaria, crossed the Maritza River, braved rush hour traffic, and admired the Roman wall that seemed to be everywhere. Plovdiv's Roman name was Phillipopolous, for the father of Alexander the Great. We arrived at The Renaissance Hotel, our home for our last three nights in Bulgaria. It has five rooms and our group is occupying three. It's another one of the tiny gems Patrick seems to unearth.

Dinner was across the street. While Patrick enjoyed tripe soup, we scarfed down garlic bread and fried yellow cheese. There was a misunderstanding with my "meatballs" and they contained pork. Judi gave me some of her chicken, but I was just as happy to have more room for bread. She tasted my "meatball" and didn't like it. When the server asked if we wanted to take them with us, under her breath, Judi said "we could feed it to an animal on the street."

Back at the hotel, we said our good-nights and climbed the steps to our rooms. Faced with three alternatives, I couldn't remember which room was ours. I think I'm exhausted.

BTW, it was 40 shipwrecks, not 140 in Lake Varna.

Toby