Departing Wisdom

Happy New Year!

After eight wonderful days in the Bulgarian ski resort town of Borovets, we headed back to the capital, Sofia. Its name comes from a beautiful old church in the city, the Hagia Sophia, a name meaning, the holy wisdom. It is one of the best cities I have been to that I had not given much thought to visiting. The top sites to see are all within walking distance of one another, there is beautiful architecture, the city is clean, prices are very affordable (extremely so for Europe), and traffic is civil. (Not only do they drive with their lights on at night, unlike in Egypt, but they even have them on during the day!) A city has been on the same spot for over 2,700 years, though it is only within the last 130 years that most of the current buildings were erected.

The afternoon of our arrival in Sofia was to be spent walking to the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, named after a Russian prince, and built as a thank you to the Russians for defeating the Turks and gaining the Bulgarians their freedom in the late 1800’s. On the way there, we stumbled upon the National Opera and Ballet Theater. As luck would have it, the performance of the Nutcracker Ballet was getting ready to start. We were able to secure three tickets from someone who couldn’t use their’s, but unfortunately, couldn’t find a fourth. As I had plans for taking a walking tour that evening, and the others were not interested in that, I was the odd man out for the ballet. The report back was that it was a beautiful building, and a great performance (but not as good as Boise’s Nutcracker).

Last spring a group of local volunteers who wanted visitors to learn about their city started a walking tour. To encourage people to take advantage of it, they made it free of charge. The night I went was cold and rainy, but it was very worthwhile. The buildings were beautifully lit up, and my guide was very knowledgeable. He had interesting stories about various Bulgarian Tsars and their empires, the dates of the buildings, how the government had been the only Axis power to protect it’s Jewish population from the Nazi concentration camps, and in addition, he had an insider’s view of the progression his country has made with the move from communism to democracy. He was too young to have known life under the communists, but expressed the view that he thought the vast majority were pleased to have it over. He noted that most of the symbols of communism had been removed as quickly as possible after the fall of communism, as people wanted to forget that part of their history, but that it was a mistake to try to erase that time from history. The National History Museum had done just that; they covered Bulgarian history up to the time of the communists, and then skipped ahead to Bulgaria joining the European Union in 2004.

The next day, I returned the favor and became the tour guide for the family. It was a memorable day, as it was snowing, and everything looked so pretty. We visited the Nevsky Cathedral, the 6th century Hagia Sofia, the Russian Church (built for the Russian community and in the Russian style, onion domes and all), the Jewish Synagogue, an ancient mosque, the Communist Party Headquarters and Presidency Building (unusually, for communist era buildings, actually quite attractive), the old city baths (fed by hot springs), and the National Theater. The Communist Party building had been set on fire soon after the fall of communism, as people were upset that the large communist star on the roof of the building had not yet been moved. Fortunately, the fire was soon extinguished and the star hastily taken down. Interestingly, they have not yet figured out what to do with it, and for 21 years, it has sat behind a construction fence next to the city’s
public bath building.

That night, we took the night train to Istanbul. We knew when we boarded the train that we would be woken at around 2:00 AM for the boarder crossing. What we didn’t know, was the length of time we would be up. We first received a knock on the door letting us know that passport control would be coming. They later came by, collected the passports, and about 20 minutes later returned them. Foolishly, we thought we were done, and tried to fall back asleep, only to receive another knock on the door a little while later letting us know that the train was stopping and that we would have to get off and go through another passport control. At this point I was a bit mystified as to what the previous passport control had been about. Dutifully, we got off and, dreary-eyed, trudged off to the passport police office. There we stood in line and were greeted by an very nice , way-too-cheerful-for-the-hour officer who informed us that we needed to go first to another office to get our visa. Off we went, only to discover that only euros and dollars were accepted for payment of the visa fee; a total of $80. Momentarily we panicked, thinking we did not have that much in either currency, visualizing ourselves being thrown off the train in the middle of nowhere with no town, ATM, or bank in sight. Fortunately, I remembered my stash of dollars back on the train. So, another hike back to the train, followed by a return to the visa office. After that, a walk back to the passport office where we again stood in line. We were then informed that Bjorn and Emma needed to be physically present, as well. They were still asleep on the train, as the Bulgarian conductor had told us that children could stay on the train and sleep; only their passport would be needed. Thus, another hike back to the train in the below freezing weather to drag the kids out of bed (nearly literally for Bjorn), and back once more to the passport office. The very nice, too-cheerful officer then complimented the kids each on their good looks (though I’m not sure they understood him as they were still half asleep) and we finally got our passports stamped. All in all, nearly a two hour process. The kids blissfully fell right back asleep, while Margit and I, who had spent so long walking around in the cold air, were vey much awake for another hour or so. The bit of wisdom we learned: do not take the night train from Sofia to Istanbul and expect to arrive well-rested.

-Mitch
1/1/11