On a hot
day in June, from Orio al Serio (Bg), I take the plane of the low cost company
Wizz Air at 1.25pm which takes me at 4.25pm to Sofia Airport in Bulgaria
(there is an hour of time zone) . The price of a one-way ticket, including
taxes, is 19.99 Euros.
I get off
the aircraft, after the same, he had repeatedly expressed the feeling of not
making it, thus dying before landing, while logically
beautiful
Bulgarian by my side, who I had chosen as a traveling companion, like in the
old days,
had given terrible
signs of a heart attack following the above events and
after a
roar of applause never heard before had welcomed
the
non-trivial landing.
An
impossible heat and mugginess welcome me back to Bulgaria after the freezing
weather
last
December.
By my side
as always only impossibly beautiful Bulgarians came to
visit
on duty who
sought his fortune in
Nothing has
changed since I left
This time,
however, I move with more ease, thanks to my past experience and
very
quickly I go to passport control with an identity card with
the stamp
(even if I know that it is not always allowed), to pave the way for
posterity
who will come here with the above document with renewal stamp.
I sacrifice
myself for everyone and
I pass the
airport customs without problems.
I go to my
usual airport bank to change money but this time the lady incredibly denies me
the change.
This is my thought: "but if you changed them 7 months ago ???? "
I do not allow myself to be disheartened by
events and
I take the
usual bus n. 84 (cost 1 LEV) using the currency I had left over from the
previous trip.
After about
40 minutes I get off at the east edge of the center (it's the closest stop and
it's less than 1km from Alexander Nevsky Cathedral).
I quickly
walk to the center where, after visiting it, I exchange 30 Euros at one of the
many EXCHANGES.
Nothing has
changed since December:
almost no
tourists and only young people speak English.
I'm also
looking for the postcard
with the
stamp, but nothing to do: incredible, there are lots of postcards but not even
a stamp.
Crazy stuff. I continue undeterred. I know it like the back of my pocket
There I go
to the usual counter no. 96, from the usual
Lady who
logically does not recognize me.
Book
I book my
ticket to Skopie (Macedonia) for 7.00 the next day (there are several minibis
every day).
I'm still
looking for stamps, still losing a few pieces of
cartilage
of the knees and then I bend my head and, on the main road a few tens of meters
south of the central train station, I take tram n. 7 (cost 1 lev. Remember to
validate the ticket once you get on the bus), which comes from the east and
runs south (even n. 4 and 6 initially follow the same route).
I get off
at
the Hostel
Mostel (minimum price: 6.90 Euros per night, including dinner, breakfast and
free internet).
From the
outside, the property appears dilapidated.
As
indicated I find
the rusty
iron door. Sound, I open the opsoleta door with difficulty.
Another
world opens up to me: a wonderful wooden courtyard, a hostel full of
Young
people.
The whole
world seems to be here. I haven't walked in that door yet
already the
beautiful girls who run the hostel bring me to the table.
They offer
me right away
a full
plate of pasta and a pint of light beer thankfully.
I don't
have time to say that I preferred water, because I am overwhelmed by events.
I drink beer
with difficulty and eat spicy pasta with as much effort.
It burns me
everything
but I can.
Finished
the pasta
immediately
the girl of the hostel gives me the map of Sofia and explains me for 15
minutes
what to do in
She speaks
fast English and sometimes I get lost but worse than me she understands
the
Japanese who is traveling the world alone without knowing almost anything
English.
Ostes then
leaves me alone with the Japanese girl. She hardly speaks anything
of English
and she does not understand what I am asking.
But then
she finally pulls me out
her map of
her and here is her world tour in 5 months:
South America, Morocco, England, Spain, Turkey, Romania, Bulgaria, Macedonia,
Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Italy.
All this
alone. Crazy stuff: what an extraordinary encounter. I fold it for a moment
head but
then the Ostes looms.
I pay my 7
euros including dinner and
breakfast
and then I am accompanied to the clean and tidy room.
Definitely
the most beautiful Hostel I have ever seen.
Tomorrow a
very hard day awaits me with a double bus and I arrive in Pristina,
city
symbol of the last Balkan war, where you can still breathe the smell
acrid of
battle. Can't wait to be there.
But for now
I'm here ...... without a stamp in spite of myself.
My complete
travel report with map, photographs and videos is available at this link:
http://vivendosalendo.blogspot.com/2012/10/il-giro-dei-balcani-in-autobus-e-treno.html
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