Bulgaria Europe

Sofia, Bulgaria

Ever since I did my first international long weekend trip (Mexico City, last year) I have been experimenting with these micro trips. Where is possible in four days? I’ve also done four-day to El Salvador, Havana, and Panama City, but when I saw a low cost flight to London the night before the Remembrance Day long weekend, I thought, why not Europe?

To clarify, I live in Vancouver, so Europe is pretty far, but if I can fly when I would otherwise be sleeping, I could manage at least 2 days and 3 nights in my destination. Not bad.

I’ll spare you the process by which I picked Sofia, Bulgaria (let’s just say it involved a spreadsheet), but I did pick Sofia, and that is how I came to spend my long weekend in Bulgaria. At present I am flying home and feeling pretty pleased with myself.

I landed in Sofia at 10:50pm on Friday, having flown from Vancouver to London to Sofia. No hassles at the airport, I exchanged some Euros into Bulgarian Levs and was at the metro station by 11:15. The metro is right at Terminal 2 and will take you right to the historical centre (starting from Serdica station) which is where you should be going if you’re traveling for pleasure. The train ends at the airport, so it is impossible to get on the wrong train, leaving the airport. What it is possible to do is foolishly pay for your 1.60 Lev ticket in the machine with a 20 Lev note, as I did, and get ALL your change in 10 cent coins, as I did. It was like a slot machine. I spent the rest of the next day paying for things with my sack of coins. (As I turned around from the machine, I saw a lady at a window from whom I could have bought a ticket.)

I arrived at Serdica station and walked to Hostel Mostel. I booked a private room, which was $30 cdn a night, in a great location,and included free breakfast and free dinner, and other added bonuses like free walking tours and pub crawls daily. The dorms are an even better bargain. It is kind of a legendary hostel and I can say it deserves its reputation.

Anyway, I went to bed, which was tough because walking from the metro, then almost midnight, the streets, bars, and restaurants were lively. But I had sightseeing planned for the next day.

Sofia is perfect for a weekend city break. It is beautiful, cheap, and all of its wonderful sites are clustered close together in the historic centre. I set out after breakfast a about 8 am and by 3 pm I had pretty much seen what I wanted to see and spent the rest of the day wandering a bit more aimlessly and leisurely.

*Krystal Garden monument to Stefan Stambolov*

Sofia has some truly stunning churches and they are all free to visit as they are not relics; they are active places of worship. I think all of the churches I visited were in the midst of a service, with prayer and singing swirling with the candle and incense smoke. I tried to pretend I was entering as a worshiper, crossing myself in the orthodox way, but I don’t think anyone was buying it.

Of course, the highlight was Alexander Nevsky Cathedral which I walked circles around, taking pictures – lots of pictures – trying to find just the right angles and taking several wholly unsuccessful selfies.

Some churches did not allow photos inside, but I was happy to be able to capture a few of the warm interiors, with their beautiful paintings. (The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral charges I think 7 Lev for a photo permit, but the kiosk to buy the permit was closed when I was there so I just snapped a few shots surreptitiously.)

And it wasn’t just churches; mosques and synagogues represented with equally compelling architecture.

The streets of central Sofia are lined with imposing and impressive buildings, which made just wandering around a delight.

Even the main street that passed through all these architectural riches was delightful. An actual yellow brick road.

I browsed at a small flea market, which had many icons and antiques. I found a few cigarette boxes that looked interesting at first, only to discover that they had swastikas on them. There was a lot of Nazi trinkets for sale there along side old trumpets, cameras, and opera glasses. I walked away empty handed.

The weather was perfect. In the mid high teens (Celsius) and sunny. I had to take my jacket off whilst sitting on a patio.

I hit a couple of eateries. A cafe and a proper restaurant. I tried a banista, the traditional cold yogurt soup (tarator), and berkova livtivka, a spread made mostly of local white cheese and super hot peppers. All pretty good. There are loads of inviting bakeries, cafes, food kiosks, and restaurants, but with only two days there is only so much eating I can do.

Everyone I encountered was friendly. Many people spoke no English, but usually there would be someone around who could assist where my phrasebook failed me. I did practice some Bulgarian phrases, which the security guard at the crypt museum was happy to help me with. Oh, yes, I went to the crypt museum at the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, which was pleasant but in my opinion one could skip it, unless you have a bottomless appetite for 17th and 18th century icons. There are so many on display in the churches anyway.

I walked up to the “ladies market”, which is just an outdoor market selling fruits and vegetables, honey, nuts, and an assortment of household goods, like brooms and blankets. The market was thoroughly skippable, but I had some extra time, though the walk there was more interesting than the market itself.

I did see a little bit of street art en route.

Finally i strolled Vitoshka Boulevard, a pedestrian street link with busy restaurants and mediocre shops. As night it is a swell place to go for a bite and despite smoking being banned inside, smoking outside is fine, so I was happy to grab a table and people watch the next night

*Statue of Aleko Konstantinov, lawyer, writer, founder of tourism in Bulgaria*

On my first evening however, I opted to grab a cheap slice of pizza and head over to La Casa del Habano for a couple of cigars, including a regional Bulgarian edition Bolivar. If you smoke cigars, it’s pretty cool. Trust me.

And that was day one. The only thing I would have done differently knowing what I know now, is I would have skipped the market and the walk to the cultural centre and the stroll down Vitoshka (because I’d end up there anyway), and instead taken transit to the museum of communist art. But that is a small quibble. It was a perfect day; I saw the highlights of Sofia and was ready to venture outside of the city the next day.

Europe Ireland

New Year’s Eve in Dublin

I awoke in Dublin in my hostel bunk. I had had a perfectly lovely evening the night before but this was my one and only full day in the city. It was December 31st, and I would be leaving early the next morning. There was no time to waste.

I walked into the city and retraced some of my steps from the night before, to see the areas in daylight. The weather was not cooperating. It was windy and gray and cold. The grey and cold I was expecting and actually fine with, but the wind made things unpleasant. Fortunately, by the afternoon the sun would come out again for a bit.

I felt immediately at home in Dublin; notwithstanding the excessive alcohol consumption I had observed the night prior, it has a seriousness about it. A studious, literary kind of aura that I’m very comfortable with. It’s entirely possible that I am projecting onto the city that which I already expected from a lifetime of reading novels and poetry by Irish authors, but nevertheless, that’s how it felt and I liked it.

Walking around Dublin there were plaques and statues to great Irish writers and thinkers. I sought out Oscar Wilde’s house and the statue of him. I won’t post a photo of the statue as it is ubiquitous online and I’m not a big fan, but it was very cool to see his house.

I had planned, of course, to go to Trinity College to see the library, however, it was closed for cleaning or renovation, so I had to take it off the list. Right there is a good reason to return to Dublin. But I was able to wander the city. I visited parks and shops and numerous cafes whenever I needed a break from my walking in the cold. Everyone I chatted with was friendly.

I visited Saint Patrick’s cathedral, which was a ticketed church, but well worth it as it is beautiful inside and there is a lot to look at. I enjoyed the decoration and design of the inside of the church, as well as the mummified remains of a cat and rat that were pulled out of the pipe organ in the 1950s.

I wandered aimlessly through the city at some point taking in statues and green spaces and bits of street art.

I visited the pub the Brazen Head, which bills itself as Dublin’s oldest pub, having been open since 1198. It wasn’t the best pub that I’d been to, but since I was right there, how could I skip such superlative drinking experience?

I walked to the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which was excellent. Precisely the sort of modern and occasionally weird art that I enjoy.

I visited two cigar stores downtown. There was a James J Fox, which is related to the James J Fox tobacconist shops in London, which I frequent when I am there. As well as ‘The Decadent Cigar Emporium’. In both cases, I bought a couple of cigars and chatted with the proprietors about the smoking laws in Dublin.

I had read prior to coming to Dublin that smoking had been banned indoors everywhere, but sometimes when you make inquiries you can find that there are certain secret places to smoke. Sadly, both shops confirmed for me that smoking is indeed banned inside and that includes a prohibition on any cigar lounges. The people at James J Fox were able to give me intel on one pub, however, where smoking would be allowed because it is technically outdoors. The James Toner pub. I made a mental note of that for later.

I wandered the alleys and poked around in bookshops and vintage clothing stores, just enjoying whatever i found in my path.

I was having a perfectly lovely day – especially after the sun came out; however, things took a turn when the sun went down. It was December the 31st. What that meant was that once the evening came, everyone’s evening plans went into full New Year’s Eve mode. I didn’t have any New Year’s Eve plans being there alone in the city. I should say, I don’t like New Year’s regardless of where I am. I think it’s a stupid holiday. I don’t like excessive drinking, I don’t like staying up late, and I don’t like big raucous parties, so it’s just not for me. So spending New Years in a foreign city means that I’m a bit of an outsider. I would have been perfectly content to go for a nice dinner and have a drink somewhere but most of the restaurants had put in place expensive tickets for parties or multi course dinners with a prefix menu. And I wasn’t about to go and spend £100 to have a dinner or attend a party that I didn’t want. I also would have been happy to sit outside somewhere and just watch the world go by but, being that it was December in Ireland, it was cold and had started to rain again. I tried to elbow my way into a few pubs just to have a drink, but those places had already become so packed there was a waiting list outside.

Remembering the suggestion of the tobacconists at James J Fox, I walked to the James Toner pub. And this was my salvation. The James Toner pub is a proper pub, but they have a back entrance and there’s a sort of massive mostly enclosed patio area where smoking is allowed. You basically feel like you are indoors except that there is a small part of the ceiling that is replaced with the sky. It still had leather booths and tables and TVs and a full bar. The heaters were blaring and it was comfortable. I sat there and had three cigars and multiple Jameson and ginger ale drinks (a drink that I had only discovered once I went to Dublin and found to be quite tasty). People weren’t particularly social outside of their individual groups. It was New Year’s after all, and people were out with their friends to have a good time; they weren’t really interested in chatting with the weird foreign girl dressed in black smoking cigars in the corner. But that’s okay. I found a spot where I was comfortable, and I was happy to sit there quietly and just watch the crowd.

Once it got to be about 9:00pm, it was time to move on. The place was getting too busy and too loud, and I couldn’t sit there any longer. At this point I just reconciled myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to go to a big party so I may as well just go back to my dorm. I felt a sense of shame going back to the hostel actually. Here I was in a foreign country; was I really not going to stay up until midnight to ring in the new year? No, no I was not. I had a shower and got into my bunk and as soon as I did that I knew that I had made the right decision. I was cozy and comfortable I watched a movie and fell asleep. I got to enjoy a bit of New Year’s revelry but was able to avoid the last few hours of drunken idiots and staying up late just for the sake of staying up.

The next morning, I woke up early. I think everyone in the hostel was asleep. Even the lobby was littered with the bodies of passed-out revellers. I arranged a taxi and headed back to the airport and back to Vancouver. It was a little less than 48 hours that I was in Dublin and, clearly, I need to return to see more of Ireland, but I was completely satisfied with the short visit that I had. Although I’m not sure that I would be eager to go and visit somewhere for New Year’s Eve again, it was a great way to start off 2024.

Europe Ireland

Arrival in Dublin

The way statutory holidays fell in December of 2023, it made it irresistibly easy to take a long weekend away. I had just spent four days in Iceland over Christmas. I then returned to work for four days before again turning to the airport to fly to Dublin for New Year’s Eve. At the time, this seemed like a brilliant idea although I must admit that flying back across to Europe only four days after having just returned was a bit gruelling. But none of that mattered of course once i was in Ireland for the first time. It seemed brilliant.

I left Vancouver flew to London where I had a short layover and then flew to Dublin. This was my first time in Ireland and I wouldn’t have very much time there at all so I had to make the most of it. I arrived at about 4:00 PM on December the 30th and went straight to my hostel. I was staying at the Jacobs Inn hostel in Dublin, which was a great location, a short walk from the centre of town and to almost everything that I wanted to visit.

I don’t know what accommodation prices are like at times other than New Year’s, but at New Year’s that was very expensive. I booked myself a part in it room of 10 pods for women and I think that little bunk bed cost me about $150.00 a night CDN. Fortunately, I was only going to be there for two nights. It was a great hostel, extremely well designed. My little bunk was so cozy and comfortable it had all the necessary amenities. I scarcely saw the other girls that I was sharing a room with.

By the time I got myself organized and went out, it was dark. I walked across the bridge towards the Temple Bar area. I know, it’s super touristy, but when you never been there before it seems like a logical place to start in the evening. On the way I was walking down a street that seemed entirely unremarkable, when I past my first Irish pub.

It was called the John Mulligan pub and its sign proclaimed that it had been in business since 1782. Good enough for me, I went inside. It was exactly what I wanted it to be. It was simple, cozy, and busy, but not too loud; everyone in there looked like a local and was having a good time chatting with each other. There were still Christmas decorations up. I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey. This is the part of the blog where I should tell you that I don’t drink beer so I did not consume any Guinness. This was strictly a whiskey trip. I do like whiskey, but I don’t tend to drink the Irish variety. For my two days in Dublin I would use my naivete as an ‘in’ to talking with locals and bartenders about their whiskeys and asking them what they recommended. That worked well in this instance, as soon I was deep in conversation with two local fellows. If that had been the only thing I did in Dublin I think I would have left perfectly satisfied it was a great experience.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I continued over to the Temple Bar area, where things were noticeably more crowded and louder. The streets were charming. Clearly, there touristy, but they were extremely appealing. Everything seemed so Irish. There were fiddle players and whiskeys and Guinnesses, old buildings, men in tweed, young drunken boys smoking cigarettes…it was exactly what you would expect and everything you would want. I went into the actual Temple Bar itself, and got myself a different type of whiskey and elbowed my way into the centre courtyard, which only had a partial roof so, technically, smoking was allowed. I smoke some cigarillos and sat down and took in the scene. A band was playing Irish music in the occasional Leonard Cohen song. The place was standing room only and everyone was having seemingly the time of their lives.

I took this photo (below), which I think is my favourite photo that I took from the entire time I was in Dublin. There’s just so much energy and although you can’t see many faces, those faces that are exposed are all exuberant. It was another perfect experience.

From there I walked around, I had a mediocre meal of something that I can no longer recall that involved potatoes, and I hit up another bar where I had a whiskey and a cigar on the patio. A few people chatted with me, most of them drunk, some of them flirtatious. It was all very enjoyable. It was a little on the cold side but it hardly mattered as I had several whiskeys now coursing through my body.

It was a wonderful introduction to Dublin. The next day, December the 31st, was my only full day in Dublin and I had a lot to accomplish. I was in bed by about 11:00 that first night and excited for the next day.

(Whenever anyone tells me that my occasional short trips overseas aren’t worth the time for money that it takes to do them, I point to experiences like this. While Dublin certainly deserves more of your time than an evening, in that one evening I had a wonderful, memorable experience and I was thankful that I had another day to follow: New Year’s Eve.)

*many of the buildings had lighting projections*

Europe Iceland

Christmas Day in Reykjavik

Christmas Eve was behind me and i was confronted with my final day in Iceland: Christmas Day. I have not travelled much at Christmas. It is not a cheap as I would like, and some destinations are overcrowded. That said, it is easy to take a long weekend off from work at the holidays, so it is a convenient time for a holiday. Having done it a couple of times now, I can say this: Christmas is a good time to travel, but it is best to avoid Christmas Day.

That said, Iceland does have some fascinating Christmas traditions. There are a group of mischievous fellows called the “Yule Lads” (really) and their raison d’être is performing naughty pranks and delivering gifts to good children by placing them in their shoes. Their mother is a troll names Grýla who collects bad children in a sack and boils them alive, presumably for consumption. And there is the Yule Cat who hunts down people who don’t get an item of new clothing for Christmas and eats them. The best tradition, however, is the ‘book flood’, according to which books are given as gifts on Christmas Eve and then the rest of the evening is spent reading. This sounds wonderful – and after all of the naughty children have been kidnapped and eaten there is certain to be lots of peace and quiet for reading. Of course, I was solo and had no one to exchange Yuletide books with, so I needed to fill Christmas Day a different way.

I was flying home from Reykjavik on Christmas Day, but not until the evening, so I had a day to fill. That was a bit of a struggle. It was dark and cold and almost everything was closed. I ended up spending about $75 CDN on a buffet meal at my hostel. The hostel did have a nice cozy feeling, but no one was particularly chatty, so I ate alone. I am normally happy to eat alone, but on this particular day, where everything seemed a bit depressing, I could have done with some company.

I went out and walked around to sights that I had not yet laid eyes on; things I could appreciate from the outside and walked aimlessly for a while.

I stopped and I had a cigar sitting on a bench outside a closed early that had left its lights on and its pink plastic Christmas tree up and had a cigar. It was so cold, but it felt a bit special.

I then killed some time at the Lebowski Bar, simply because it was open. There was only one other table occupied inside. It did have a cozy feeling and was playing Christmas music. I had a mulled wine and mulled over whether Christmas Day was a good day to be visiting anything.

Fortunately, by early evening it was time to return to the airport.

I loved my time in Reykjavik, but I kind of wished I had left late on Christmas Eve or early on Christmas Day, as the last day just felt like an expensive way of killing time. Lesson learned for the future: use Christmas Day as a day for long haul travel; not for sightseeing.

Despite this, Reykjavik had exceeded my expectations. I can’t stop thinking about its beauty and magic. I even find myself thinking about how relatively close it is to Vancouver and how it is kind of a perfect long weekend getaway. Maybe I will return to see it again – maybe in the summer – but in the meantime there are more new places to discover. Like Dublin, which I would fly to four days later.

Anonymous
17 November 19 at 6:44 am

Enjoyed wandering with you(figuratively) through Sofia.

Armchair Traveler 😊

Reply

Wandering North

Sofia, Bulgaria

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