The Black Sea ain’t black!

Never our intention to visit as we were heading for the Romanian bit of Black sea. We are always suspicious of intensely touristic areas, but we were pleasantly surprised and we got a bit of a Bulgarian experience, maybe our best so far!

We went to sleep in a quiet cemetery car park, we awoke in what seemed like a bustling marketplace. This morning everyone was visiting their deceased relatives and friends, and we were right in the thick of it, just our luck.

I hope this was not the most disrespectful act that a visitor could bestow on the kind hospitality of our hosts, Bulgaria, if it was our sincere apologies.

We maneuvered Dora gracelessly out of the car park, allowing a further three to pay their respects to their dearly departed, and headed to Varna.

We went through town to find a place to park Dora. Following the lead of other motorists we had parked alongside the road, and had proceeded to have lunch. We were soon disturbed by a couple of traffic police;

“You cannot park here”,

“OK, we will move, sorry we never saw any signs, where can we park?”,

“anywhere, just not here, you must leave now”.

Most unhelpful.

There were no signs. We found a new spot next to a restaurant, hopefully this would be OK. We finished our lunch, which had been hastily gathered up.

Afterwards, we walked back along the coast. They had ticketed all the unlucky motorists who had not been around, a lucky escape for us!

Black sea, no idea where the name came from, but when we got there, it was blue. Quite a nice blue actually; not that muddy UK a long way from blue, closer to black than blue, blue, nor that turquoise river blue we have seen a lot of lately, an intense, nearly match the sky blue, a far from being black blue. We had been cheated.

And along the coast, a promenade; not a UK promenade, wind and rain whistling along, with no possibility of shelter, sea whipped up into the face, stinging the eyes and sandblasting the face, promenade.

A calm, out with the family, stop for a drink in the sun promenade, pretty much like the French Riviera, without the pretence or snobbery.

And down below, a sandy beach, with a few people swimming, just a few, the sea has yet to really warm up.

See, sea, not black at all.

Another reason for heading to the Black sea, we had heard about the thermal pools. We love thermal pools, and this one was really local, and this one had heated up nicely. Maybe tomorrow we would venture back.

The season is really only just beginning and you can only just get a gist of what it will be like. There are plenty of bars and restaurants on the beach aimed squarely at the young, cocktails, sand and sun. What more could you want?

The bars consumed the beach, wouldn’t be allowed in Brighton or Bournemouth!

Further down, closer to town and we find a large swimming complex. An event is underway, water polo.

We have no idea of the rules, but we presume it is really popular here in Bulgaria so we stick around to see what happens.

Now that is an energetic sport. No wonder the Brits don’t have a viable water polo team, far too much effort. Our footballers complain after jogging around a field for forty five minutes, they would have no chance with some real effort!

The next pool along, an Olympic 50m pool.

Up until a few years ago the UK only had two in the whole country!

And excellent diving facilities. But then obviously Bulgaria has the funds to invest in grass roots sports.

We finally reach the town centre. It was very quiet, which surprised us. It was Saturday afternoon after all.

They were just finishing off a major refurbishment of the precinct. All new paving throughout.

Maybe the locals don’t like their new and improved town centre, so stay away.

We passed our intended restaurant for the evening and popped in to book a place, but it looked like it would not be necessary. We had an hour to spare so headed for the cathedral.

A service was taking place. A choir perched precariously on the balcony above. I never saw them! I assumed it was piped music.

In the UK church attendance has dropped dramatically.

It looks like the same is happening here, there are less than a dozen people here, the choir must be larger.

Will they continually be able to muster up a choir? Surely a recording is inevitable.

Would it really matter?

I am sure it could achieve the same sound, the same feeling, the same illusion of a closeness to god;

it is after all, just chemicals, hormones, rushing around the body, stimulating the senses.

Susana had chosen the venue, mainly for its name;  Dom na Arkitekta (the architect’s House). We couldn’t find the speciality of chicken gizzards, but we had a lovely salad.

Susana had some chicken which came on a sizzling plate, very impressive.

And I had my favourite, lamb.

Full to bursting, we went back to the cathedral, which was now lit up in the dusk light. We headed back to Dora by bus.

We moved Dora late last night, and found a quiet suburban street, in front of a house under construction.

The next morning. It is Sunday and we are heading to the border. It will be our last day in Bulgaria.

But first we need to find a thermal pool.

We head north and quickly get to a vast resort, Golden Sands. We know it is not here, and this place is an abomination, soon to be at the top of the list for the price conscious Brit no doubt.

We head back in the direction of Varna, we are not looking for the one we found yesterday, we have heard of another, at St. Constantine.

We eventually find it. It is not what we expected.

This is local tat, not international holidaymaker tat.

And the baths, a bit manky, not a tourist in sight. The real Bulgarian deal.

We spend a hour or so soaking in the sulphur infused warm waters.

The signs; no food or drink, are completely ignored by the locals, we follow suit with our iced coffees.

The sun loungers are stained and decrepit, the foot bath is empty and the thermal showers consist of a jumble of plastic pipework leaking from every joint.

But it is relaxing, great fun and less than €5 for both of us. Granted the other one was free and even more local, but this one is bigger.

We continue to drive up the coast. We have some data left, so we stop just before the border so that we can post a few more blogs, update the map and download some podcasts.

We find a beautiful spot next to a lake. The only problem, mosquitoes, lots of them. Even with the insect blinds down they somehow manage to get in. They are pretty stupid ones though and are easy to catch. We do get some sleep.

It took a while to get rid of them, two big adults running around a four square metres space, swatting every insect we sensed. They seemed to love Dora. More and more appeared even when we closed her doors, we thought they bred in her. And after the flies had gone, the frogs. Dozens, which felt like hundreds decided to sing acapella. It was a long and interesting night. SM.

Tomorrow, Romania.

GDR