bedlam, bones and a blowout
Biser, Bulgaria
What a crazy afternoon!
At midday we had an appointment with the editor/photographer/storywriter from the local rag (who we met yesterday whilst nibbling at pizzas in Harmanli), and at the same time the camp owner (who lives in a neighbouring village) had arranged to take us for an outing. Already understanding a lot about Bulgarian timing, we had no qualms about sitting down to lunch a little after twelve.
At a quarter to two we were in the gazebo, Mr Camp Owner had just arrived and we decided to give the photographer another quarter of an hour. Then we’d be off to the castle and burial mound at Mezek and the Silent Stones.
Farmer Ivan the Apple Man drove by and popped in.
Farmer Ivan’s son, the policeman, who was here the other night, also dropped in.
Conversation outlining our plans ensued, we gave the farmer some applesauce we’d made with his apples and he made us promise to return to the orchard at six tonight to pick more apples to make more sauce.
Eventually we decided to head for the hills. We got as far as the end of the road when a cell phone rang. The photographer was on his way. Right now.
About turn and back to the camp with a detour/guided tour of the rest of Biser.
Mr Photographer arrives with Mr Farmer, who thinks we should do the photo shoot at his orchard. So we all pile back into the jeep and head for the orchard, expecting to continue with our own plans once the pictures are taken. Of course, we have to pick more apples and pose and eat and try to refuse another boxful to take home.
When it’s over we realise we are not about to hit the road. We need to give an interview. Back at camp. So back to camp we toddle! We chat and by the time the interview is done it is clear there will not be time for the castle or burial mounds. For the third time we leave the camp and this time head straight for the hills. The late afternoon light is beautiful. And it is nice to be sitting in a Landrover jeep with someone else doing the driving. Very nice, in fact.
Mr British Camp Owner / Tour Guide / Driver Extraordinaire expertly avoids fallen firewood and broken roof tiles scattered across the road, all the while pointing out sites of interest and things that were there two years ago but are now gone (like massive Russian gun turrets that disappeared to Germany overnight – how you’d smuggle one of them over the border, I’m not too sure!)
We wind our way up the hill and turn off onto a logging track. We can see why we were told not to bother trying to bring the vans up here. We stop when the vehicle can go no further and all clamber out. There is still a somewhat steep climb to negotiate before we find the two things we have come to see.
This is the site of an ancient Thracian settlement, some of which has recently been unearthed. It is nothing like the formal properly excavated famous sites we have been to. While there are some lines laid out, and one area covered in heavy duty plastic (presumably until the archaeology students return next summer), there is plenty of half-unearthed rubble begging to be scrounged around in. And so that’s just what the kids did. Imagine their delight at finding bones, real bones. And totally recognisable pieces of amphora. They didn’t manage to put a whole pot together, but they did try piecing together broken bricks, and they made intelligent guesses about what seemed to be a water channel. Sites like this litter the Bulgarian countryside.
Our second must-see was up in the rocks that the settlement is squeezed between. High high up (like the settlement itself), are funerary niches carved out of the rock. It is thought ashes of the deceased were placed in these.
Of more interest to the younger boys was the fact we had been told that when you made a racket there, it does not echo. Extensive experimenting proved this to be true!
Upon returning to the jeep, it was noticed that one tyre was in desperate need of air. Fortunately our guide (having had five flat tyres in the last month, the most recent one being this morning) was well-prepared and pulled out a pump (the spare tyre being flat – see beginning of sentence for explanation). While the air puffed, he marvelled at how eight kids could sit still and quietly for ten minutes. Ten minutes is nothing when you’ve sat on a train for four days or a bus for 26 hours, but it did remind me to be thankful that our kids travel well.
Trying to find the balance between avoiding undue strain on the wheel and going as fast as possible to get to the main road, he flew down the mountainside, gleeful giggles coming from the back as smaller children bounced right out of their seats. (Note for people who worry about us taking unnecessary risks: the driver was an ex-landrover-offroad-trainer so we were in the best of hands!)
With a sigh of relief we got clear of the dirt track and made it to the road. We even made it down the mountain. But when we hit the flat, the tyre blew.
Mr Driver’s experience was evident as he brought the jeep to a sudden, but careful halt. For the children, this all just spelt even more adventure. And they raced off to pick almonds and walnuts and watch a donkey being led home and explore the beehives and gardens while we waited for the driver’s son to come and pick us up. We figured we have all squeezed in to one tuktuk before, so there would be plenty of room for a dozen people in his stationwagon! A crazy way to end a crazy afternoon.
The sun was setting when we got back – we’ll have to get the apples another day.
Tags: 2008/09, children, history, housing, postcard: Bulgaria, transport
rayres
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