2012 balkans 4: greece & bulgaria

V. 4

The By!n"nes & The Bal#ns 4

The By!n"nes & The Bal#

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Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a six-week trip to Southeastern Europe from May 9 ~ June 21, 2012. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2012. V. 4

The By!n"nes & The Bal#ns 4

The By!n"nes & The Bal#

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You will not find paradise on earth, not even in a monastery. Paradise does not exist on earth, and cannot, because man was not created for earth, but for heaven.

~Abbess Thaisia of Leushino

The By!n"nes & The Bal#nsMay 9 ~ June 21, 2012

V. 4 Greece & Bulgaria

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As we came down for breakfast in Gjirokaster, were greeted by a cheery “Good Morning!” in a perfect accent. It was Victor, who served our boiled eggs, fig preserves, and Turkish coffee. We soon realized that was the extent of his English. Got on the road south to the border at Kakavie, crossing into Greece at 9:30. Nice roads as we drove to Patra; everything green, indicating recent rains which eventually caught up with us. Nice scenery of green rocky hills, the roads lined by pink oleanders. Enjoyed a smattering of superhighway that is incomplete at this point, perhaps indicating the state of the Greek economy. Crossed the impressive Rio-Antirio Bridge that connects the Peloponnese peninsula with mainland Greece. Followed the road to Olympia with the intention of visiting the UNESCO-listed site of the founding of the Olympic Games in the 8th century BC. Were disappointed to find that the site is only open from 8:00-3:00; we had arrived at 3:10. Were able to get a peek of the original site of the games in a grove of trees from the road above but had to miss most of it. Consulting the map, thought it would be an easy drive through Kalamata to Mystras, but that was not the case. The winding road took us through some of the most rugged and dramatic country we have yet seen. We ascended from sea level to over 5000 feet through a series of switchbacks and curves. Considering the topography, the roads were pretty good, although Jake took his time slipping by some startling drop-offs. Finally arrived in Mystras after 8:00. A UNESCO

site, Mystras is a fortified town with an exceptional site high atop Mr. Taygetos near ancient Sparta. It served as the Byzantine capital in the 14th and 15th centuries, when it was a thriving community where the arts flourished. We found the Hotel Pyrgos after asking a man on the road near the fortress, who directed us in perfect English. The beaming face of Maria greeted us at the door; she settled us in our attractive room. Walked up to the town square for dinner at To Kastle; sat outside for a simple meal with house wine; we were the only ones in the restaurant. Wondered if the euro crisis in Greece and accompanying instability in Athens is creating a dearth in tourism throughout the country.

Sunday, May 27 My!ras, Greece

Olympia … from behind the fence.

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My!rasUNESCO

Monday, May 28 My!ras, GreeceCould have eaten three bowls of Greek yoghurt and honey for breakfast; settled for two. A delicious array of local products including cheese, meats, comfitures, and cakes was lovingly set out by Maria. Wondered why we were the only ones around until we learned later that the time in Greece is an hour ahead. Drove a short distance to the Lower Town of the ancient city of Mystras and entered through the portal of the old fort. The weather was sunny and warm with refreshing breezes for our day of exploration of this magical Byzantine ghost town. Carefully climbed up and down rugged the paths to explore numerous churches and other ruined buildings strewn down the hillside. The pathways were undressed stone steps, and we had to take care walking to avoid twisting an ankle; these were no gradual uphill paths, but quite steep and rough. We explored an extraordinary number of buildings, many with only weed-covered walls, arches, or windows remaining. There was a surprising number of churches; some were closed for restoration but others were open, enabling us to enjoy the dramatic frescoes that remained within. We lost each other for a while, but figured that between the two of us, we’d seen everything. Took advantage of the car to go to the Upper Town to see the view out over the plain below; behind us was the summit of Taygetum, clothed in firs.

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Mi!ra is an ex"n# !ar now; but, embedded in $at uph%val of mineral—bat&ered and cracked and w%$er-fret&ed on $e wal's of its churches—one can see a miraculous surviving glow of $e radiance $at gave life to $is (! comet as it shot glit&ering and sinking across $e sunset sky of By)n"ne.

~Patrick Leigh Fermor, Mani (1958)

As the afternoon was wearing on, retreated to the hotel to rest and cool off. I walked to the square to look around for a place for us to have dinner later. Discovered the shop of Maria Tsiboka, a painter of traditional Byzantine icons. She follows the old methods using egg tempera and brushes with a single hair, and took pride in showing me the steps involved in preparing the wood with canvas and putty before applying the paint. I looked at the pieces she had, both on the walls and in a large photo album. I promised to return when Jake and I went for dinner. Dmetra, the other hostess, served us ouzo and homemade brandy on the terrace of our hotel, as we sat, surrounded by orange trees and grape vines. When she asked where we had traveled, we included Macedonia in our list of countries. She answered abruptly, “You mean, Skopje.” I said, not just Skopje. She reflected the view of other Greeks we had talked to by answering, “It makes me very mad to hear the name Macedonia used that way. I call whatever it is Skopje.” Discussed filmmaker Theodoros Angelopoulos, writer Patrick Leigh Fermor, and travel in Greece with an interesting fellow from Switzerland who we found reading on the terrace when we sat down. In the evening, Jake and I walked to the square to visit Maria Tsiboka again; we ordered an icon of John of Patmos that she will send in August. Dinner outside on the square at Alinas was a great opportunity to see what was going on in town. Over our mousaka and stuffed tomatoes, we watched as people closed up shops and joined friends at outside tables for a game of cards, a cup of coffee, or a drink. Motorcyclists blasted by; having one seems to be a necessity in a community such as this. It was still light as we walked back to our room after dinner.

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Another yoghurt breakfast before we said good-bye to Maria and descended from Mystras to Sparti, continuing toward Athens by picking up the sparkling new A8 superhighway at Tripoli. Found Daphni Monastery on the outskirts of Athens with no problem. Felt extremely fortunate when we got to the gate and learned that the complex is only open for a few hours on Tuesdays and Fridays. Following an earthquake in 1999, the church, dating from the late 11th century, suffered significant damage. It is now encased in scaffolding inside and out, and painstaking work is underway to strengthen the structure and to fully restore the frescoes, the marble work, and the beautiful mosaics. A guide took us inside the katholikon and led us up a series of metal steps, almost as high as the dome. There she pointed out the work that has been done so far. The mosaics are unbelievably beautiful and depict various prophets and saints, Christ as Pantocrator, and the baptism of Jesus, showing him without drape in the water. Watched a short video about the work that continues at Daphni; it would be exciting to come back in a few years to see the progress. Meanwhile, we found it instructive to observe this project at a relatively early stage, for it gave us a greater appreciation of the art of making mosaics as well as the craftsmanship necessary in restoring them.

Tuesday, May 29 Delphi, Greece

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It took us another two hours to drive to the Monastery of Hosios Loukas, built at the same time as Daphni on the slope of Mt. Helikon, near ancient Stiris. Actually, these two monasteries share a UNESCO listing, and Hosios Loukas ranks among the finest in Greece; it is a masterpiece of Byzantine art. The large pilgrimage church rests on the tomb of Luke the Hermit, who founded the monastery and died there in 953. The exterior has the same typically Greek style: it is built in the shape of a Greek cross, under a central dome. Brick and stone are worked together to make the distinctive pattern present on both churches as well as others we have seen in Greece. The mosaics are amazing and the squinches showed several scenes similar to those being restored at Daphni, including the Nativity and the Baptism of Jesus. At both monasteries, we were virtually alone, making our visits all the more meaningful. Another dramatic drive through the mountains brought us to Delphi, where we arrived around 5:00. Lovely views along the way, but we could see rain in the distance. We are staying at a quirky Pitho Rooms, located two flights up steep stairs over a souvenir shop. Owner George Foutsoutzoglou welcomed us with a smile and helped get our bags up to our simple room. The place is more like a B&B than a hotel; family sounds of kids’ voices combine with the birds we hear from our open window. Walked down the street for dinner at To Patriko Mas (Our Family Hone), a tavern in an 1860 house that has been in the family for five generations. We shared spanakopita and dolmades as we watched the sun set over the Gulf of Corinth.

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Mona!ery of Hosios Lou"sUNESCO

Jake and I set out early to walk to the Sanctuary of Apollo. Situated above the River Pleistos Gorge and against the backdrop of Mount Parnassos, these evocative ruins were a place of pilgrimage from as early as 2000 BC, when worshippers from over the Greek world would come to consult the priestess at the Temple of Apollo. Delphi continued to attract pilgrims to the oracle until the temple was closed in 381 AD by the Byzantine emperor. We followed the Sacred Way up to the temple and the theater that seated 5000. Trudged up the hill to the large stadium high above and enjoyed the view out over the ruins and the valley below. Afterward, visited the Archeological Museum that displayed many of the works of art excavated at Delphi, including the jewel of its collection, the Charioteer of Delphi (Heniokhos), a beautifully detailed life-size bronze statue (it even retains the eyelashes) from 478 BC that was only discovered in 1896. Walked back into town as clouds were gathering and stopped for a Mythos beer and spanakopita on the terrace of a coffee shop across the street. Then to our room to catch up with correspondence and prepare for another long day of driving tomorrow. Chose Epikovros, a taverna across from our hotel for a dinner of goat and lamb and salad—and of course, ouzo—at a table that captured the Delphi view. We admired our ouzo glasses, and as we left, we were handed a blue plastic bag with two to take home. After dinner we walked down the street in the golden moments before sunset. Saw an interesting silver box with Greek coral

set in the top and went into the shop to inquire about it. The owner and jeweler, George Papadopoulis, was watching the finals of the Greek basketball championship. He was a talkative fellow and took up with Jake. He told us that he used to live in Athens but moved to Delphi when Athens became impossible for him. He said that when he lived in there, there were 800,000 people and he had an easy, happy lifestyle. Now, there are 5 million Greeks in Athens and another million from other countries. He complained about the state of the economy in light of the euro situation; for example, tomatoes gown in Greece are cheaper in Vienna than in Delphi (.80 euro vs. 2.80 a kilo). He is worried about the future for his children: his 19-year-old son has no job prospects and his daughter, who used to work in a day-care center, lost her job when her boss could no longer afford to keep it open. It was interesting to talk to George and I will think of him when we place the box in our collection at home.

Wednesday, May 30 Delphi, Greece

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Archaeological Site of DelphiUNESCO

Left Delphi at 9:00 and drove toward Trikala. George, our host in Delphi, said that the gods must be smiling as Athens got so much rain yesterday that there was flooding in the city. Got to the turnoff for Kalampaka at noon and continued to Meteora (meaning “suspended in the air”), the UNESCO-designated site of a series of sandstone peaks that formed into columns over the millennia. From the 11th century, monks have somehow managed to construct monasteries atop these columns that starkly rise 1500 feet above the Peneas Valley. Although practically inaccessible when they were built, roads now crisscross the area, bringing in busloads of tourists. We chose not to join the

groups going to the monasteries, as we found them much more evocative from a distance. Did a little climbing to find good points from which to shoot pictures, but went no further than that. Meteora is a good example of too much of a good thing, with all the roads and bus stops and traffic. We continue to be distressed that the defacement of road signs is endemic throughout the Balkans, and is prevalent in Greece. Practically every directional or traffic sign has been spray painted, covered with stickers, or both. Not only is it a terrible eyesore, but it is confusing and dangerous. Left the area after 1:00 and drove to Grevena where we accessed the excellent (and empty) autoroute to Thessaloniki.

Thu!day, May 31 Thessaloniki, Greece

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MeteoraUNESCO

Thankfully, GPS Marishka likes Greece and we found the historic Bristol Hotel near the ferry with no problem. Have a corner room in this 1870 building that was once the main post office. Somehow, it was spared in a massive fire in 1917 and has been renovated to capture the spirit of 19th century Thessaloniki. Walked to Aristotelous Square, designed by French architect Eugene Hébrard following the fire, although his design was not implemented until the 1950s. We found the sprawling grassy square covered by thousands of folded white envelopes; a children’s choir was singing as we arrived. Learned later that this was related to the city’s attempt to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for the largest collection of origami. Unfortunately the proceedings were suddenly interrupted by a soaking shower. Everyone ran for the covered promenades along the square. When it let up enough for us to continue, we walked to Ouzeri Aristotelous, located off the square in a narrow, plant-filled space between two buildings. We sat in the covered street area and listened as the rain pounded over our heads. Shared a series of mezes, including fried mussels, grilled eggplant, and cheese stuffed cuttlefish. By the time we finished our coffee, the rain had stopped and we had a pleasant walk back along shops crammed with goods; I was especially intrigued by the masses of shoes haphazardly displayed in a number of stores. 3 9

ThessalonikiUNESCO

After a combination Greek/American breakfast that included yoghurt and honey as well as fried eggs and bacon (albeit in olive oil), set out on foot to explore this port city that is such a mixture of east and west, ancient and modern. Thessaloniki was founded in 315 BC and named for the half-sister of Alexander the Great. Under Roman rule, it was an important cultural center; eventually it became the second most important city in the Byzantine Empire, after Byzantium itself. Thessaloniki was taken by the Ottomans in the 15th century; later, a large number of Jewish settled here. Thus, like Istanbul, the city has for centuries been a crossroads of cultures. Our walk took us past the ruins of the palace of Roman Emperor Galerius to St. Dimitrios Church, site of the martyrdom and burial of the patron saint of Thessaloniki. Small 7th century mosaics have been preserved on each side of the apse. The church also shows hints of its Islamic history (it was a mosque for 400 years or so). Relics of religious conflict are evident in the nearby Rotunda, now called the Church of St. George. First erected in the 4th century as a mausoleum for Galerius, persecutor of Christians, it ironically became a Christian church in the 5th century and

then a mosque under the Ottoman occupation. Again, traces of Christian mosaics as well as a minaret and Arabic inscriptions reminded us of the city’s history. Down from the Rotunda we walked to the Arch of Galerius that bears relief sculptures celebrating the emperor’s various victories. Massive Agia Sofia, the Church of Holy Wisdom, had also been a mosque and still has the base of a minaret. As we walked along a street of boutiques, I was attracted to a small shop carrying scarves, hats, and handbags and went in for a look. I noticed goods from France, Italy, and even Argentina, and asked if they had anything made in Greece. The saleswoman told me that she had almost nothing from Greece, as most of the factories that made luxury goods had been forced to close in these years of economic instability. Again we are hearing of the hard times that this lovely, hospitable country is facing. Jake thinks that I am putting too great an emphasis on the graffiti that we are seeing everywhere, but to me, it is a sad indication of frustration and despair. Walking toward the museums, I saw an official sign with a Eurozone emblem that had a spray painted “X” over it. Someone is saying something.

Friday, June 1 Thessaloniki, Greece

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St. Dimitrios Church

Church of St. George

Arch of Galerius

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Along the waterfront, I stopped to take a picture of the White Tower (it had been the Bloody Tower until it was painted and renamed). At the Archeological Museum, we particularly enjoyed the Treasures of Ancient Macedon: perfectly preserved gold jewelry and small objects from the 4th century BC. Talked Jake into taking a break and having a beer at the museum’s courtyard café before visiting the Museum of Byzantine Culture. His accommodation meant that we only had an hour to get through their collection of icons and funerary art, but we managed to at least have a look at each room. Would have liked to buy a catalogue, but they have not produced one. A taxi back to the hotel was an inexpensive indulgence after being on our feet all day. Decided to keep things easy and have dinner at Zithos, a taverna across from the hotel that had seemed so lively when we came back from dinner last night. However, the whole area seemed a bit flat, even on this Friday night. Our dinner choices too, had a decidedly generic flavor. Walked back to Aristotelous Square with the thought of having an after dinner drink, but it was so windy that we just made a circuit back to the Bristol and had a nightcap in their cozy bar.

White Tower

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Archeological Museum

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The By!n"ne Museum

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We shal! not c"se from explora#on And $e end of al! our exploring Wil! be to arrive where we %arted And know $e p&ce for $e fi't #me.

~ T. S. El!iot

By 9:45 we were on our way north on an empty new autoroute , reaching the Bulgarian boarder at Promachonas at 11:00. They did not even stamp our passports; we were only asked to pay a 5 euro road tax. Once in Bulgaria, the road narrowed to two lanes, running along the Struma River Gorge. Lots of traffic on this north-south artery to the capital. Passed signs advertising rafting; it must be pretty good by the look of the rapids we could see from the road. We could see snow on the Rila Mountains in the distance; road signs illustrating a tire with chains were an indication that this area is brutal in winter. Passed several small villages that could be described as “Bulgarian decrepit”; saw a couple of donkey carts and old women in aprons walking along the road. Turned off at the town of Kocherinovo and ascended a leafy narrow road into Rila National Park. Stands selling honey were all along the way, and we saw bee keeps behind some of them. About 30 km on, arrived

at UNESCO-listed Rila Monastery, the best known of Bulgaria’s monasteries. Founded in the 9th century, Rila has a beautiful mountain setting surrounded by fortified walls. Work has continued on it ever since it was founded and it is amazing to behold. The exterior is decorated with stripes of red and white and checkerboards of black and white. Richly colored frescoes picturing scenes of rural life and Orthodox iconography are painted on the upper walls and ceilings of the porches, and visions of hell, complete with bat-winged demons torturing poor souls, appear on the lower areas. Inside the church, there is a long iconostasis covered with intricate carvings. The interior walls are also covered with frescoes. The jewel of the monastery’s museum is a 14-inch high wooden cross that was carved by the monk Rafail using only needles; it took him twelve years to complete (in 1802) and cost him his sight. It is unbelievable, picturing 104 religious scenes and more than 650 human figures.

Sa!rday, June 2 Sofia, Bulgaria

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Ri! Mona"eryUNESCO

It was 2:00 when we collected our car and returned to the main road to Sofia. Since we would be parking the car for the next two nights, decided to see Boyana Church today. Hidden in a suburb seven kilometers southwest of the city, this UNESCO-designated church had absolutely no signage to assist in locating it, but by asking three people along the way, we found it with a combination of single words and gestures. We entered a forrested garden through an old gate where we found the tiny 10th century chapel down a stone path. A rather obsequious fellow motioned us into a narthex where we waited a few minutes until a small group left. Visitors are only allowed to be in the church for ten minutes, and in groups of no more than eight. The walls are covered with exquisite medieval frescos in soft, muted colors. What was truly special about them were their expressions; not staring and simplified but full of emotion; real, human. The size of the church only made it more powerful. Outside, worn stone crosses marked ancient burial plots under the shade of giant conifers.

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Boyana ChurchUNESCO

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Marishka was on target today and brought us to the Sheraton Sofia Hotel Balkan, an imposing Soviet-era hotel in the center of the city. For dinner, we walked down Vitosha, the main shopping street, to a traditional Bulgarian restaurant, Manastinska Magernitza (“Monastery Kitchen”) that serves dishes from 161 Bulgarian monasteries. Were led up a series of carpeted steps to a little room and seated at a table across from a group from the UK. This obviously was the tourist area, and was hot and stuffy, so we asked to be moved; ended up at a table for two on the attractive terrace. After an afternoon rain, the air was fresh and clean, and the atmosphere a lot more to our liking. Started with glasses of rakia, the Bulgarian version of plum brandy so popular in the Balkans. It was so good that I asked the brand: our waitress wrote “Todorof” for me in my notebook. Shared a huge Bulgarian vegetable plate, yoghurt puffs, and grilled pork cooked several ways. Chatted with Daniale, our waiter, whose home is in Veliko Tarnovo where we will be going in a few days. He commented that he is happy that he moved to Sofia, as there are jobs here. In his words, “Varna has the sea [the Black Sea] but Sofia has the ocean [of people]” and work is plentiful. As we walked back to our hotel, saw that the street cafes were filled with young people enjoying the evening together, just as young people do the world over.

Traditional welcome of bread and salt

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Today was a perfect day to visit the churches of Sofia. Since this is Pentecost Sunday in the Orthodox Church, we were treated not only to the icons and frescos in the churches we visited, but to hauntingly beautiful music in each, from a full men’s choir at Sveta Petka Samardzijska (adjacent to our hotel), to four blended voices at the tiny Chapel of Sveta Petka, to a single voice at the Rotunda of Sveti Georgi (at 4th century, Sofia’s oldest). Each church was decorated with flowers, and worshippers carried green leaves in remembrance that God's divine breath comes to renew all creation. Noticed that there was a lot of coming and going during the services, as people would stand or kneel for a few moments, light a candle or tenderly kiss an icon and be on their way. We walked down Nezavisimost to Aleksander Nevski Square, where the daily flea market was just setting up. Saw mostly military—particularly Nazi—insignia, coins and paper money, old filigree jewelry, and some household items. People were also selling souvenirs, embroidery, and icons. I bought an antique rose oil container with a pleasing shape; perhaps it was made from a gourd. Bulgaria is the major producer of rose oil in the world; perhaps it had once been on a Bulgarian woman’s dresser. Continued to the magnificent Nevski Memorial Church, one of the finest pieces of architecture in the Balkans. It was completed in 1924 to honor the 200,000 Russian casualties of Bulgaria’s 1877-8 War of Liberation. In the crypt, we perused the large collection of icons from all over Bulgaria.

Sunday, June 3 Sofia, Bulgaria

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Sveta Pet! Samardzijs!64

Ro!nda of Sve" Georgi

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Ale!ander Nevski Memorial Church

As we entered the park, noticed something was going on and discovered that it was a kid’s festival, with all sorts of arts and crafts, games, and pony rides. Found a table at a café in the middle of things and watched the activity over a couple of beers. I was interested to see in a program I picked up that the event was sponsored by the America for Bulgaria Foundation. Children’s ac t iv it ie s c o nt inue d a t the Archeological Museum; swarms of children were participating in a scavenger hunt of sorts, trying to find things that were pictured in sheet they were given at the door. As for us, we enjoyed the exhibits of Bulgarian gold and jewelry as well as a collection of frescos rescued from crumbling church walls. As we crossed the street to walk back to the hotel, paused at the offices of Bulgaria’s President to take a picture of the guards, dressed in their comic-opera 19th century uniforms.

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This evening we had dinner at Pod Lipite, or “Under the Linden Tree,” a family-owned restaurant since 1926. We knew it was a taxi r i d e a w a y , b u t g r e w increasing ly co ncerned when the driver got on two expressways and went up and down side streets, including one marked with a Dead End sign. When we finally got there, feared what the charge would be for the meterless ride but were amazed that it was only about $6. The restaurant looked just like a Bulgarian restaurant should look, I th o u g h t : lo w , b e ame d ceiling, farm antiques on the walls, old wooden tables, and a g re at fi re p lac e . Bulgarian specialties and local wine; just what we wanted. And the ride back was half the cost.

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Nice road between Sofa and Bulgaria’s second largest city, Plovdiv; exited on a ring road and drove southeast through Asenovgrad to Bachkovo Monastery, founded in 1083 and under consideration for a UNESCO listing. Accessed the complex along a narrow lane lined with stands selling food and candy, pottery and baskets, and souvenirs and icons. As soon as we had walked through the archway to the monastery, a man yelled at George that no photos were allowed, even in the courtyard area. We entered the principal church, Sveta Bogoroditsa, (built in 1604) and were immediately struck by the fact that the frescos were virtually invisible, covered in centuries of soot. On the right as we entered, there is an especially venerated icon of the Virgin in which her face reveals great love and pain. When I walked to the door of the monastery shop to see if they had any further information about the frescos, the woman who was minding the shop walked past me, locked the door, and left. Were able to get someone to open a door to a second courtyard where the Sveti Nikolai Church is located, but she would not open the church door; we were only allowed to stand on the porch and see a peeling version of The Last Judgment. She also told us “No Museum” when we asked to see it. A real disaster all around. If the monastery is truly seeking UNESCO status, it is clear that something has to be done about maintenance and accessibility, and above all, restoration. Drove on into Plovdiv but had a terrible time gaining access to the old town with its narrow streets of uneven rock. Stopped to ask for directions several times and found that people could not have

been nicer. Eventually we were directed to a square in the lower part; I went into a souvenir shop and asked directions of the old couple inside. After deliberations and the realization that we could not understand each other at all, the wife shooed her husband out to our car in order for him to lead us around the back way. Dimitar Lupov, bless his soul, climbed in the front seat and gestured us around and up the hill on a slightly wider road. However, a barrier gate was installed and there was no way that the guard was going to let us in the protected area, reservations or not. So Dimitar led me on foot up the hill for a half-mile to the Hebros House. Victoria, the innkeeper, was most apologetic and immediately sent someone down to meet Jake and direct him up the hill. At last we were settled into this National Revival style-house that once belonged to a wealthy merchant and was the meeting place of the Communist Party. Our room is off a large sitting room with a grand piano; all the furnishings are from the early 19th century.

Monday, June 4 Plovdiv, Bulgaria

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Cooled off with a local beer in the garden before taking a walk. Visited the Balabanov House to get an idea of life in old Plovdiv. Brightly colored exteriors with orieled windows, and carved interior woodwork and ceilings are trademarks of the area’s architectural style. Nearby Saborna Street is lined with antiques shops and of course I prevailed on Jake to stop at a few. While he discussed politics and Bulgarian driving with three men, I looked around the dusty shelves of glassware, Turkish copper, and military paraphernalia. Rain threatened and it was hard work maneuvering the uneven streets, so we decided not to venture further. A dinner of Bulgarian dishes served with an international touch in the small hotel dining room in the lower level, served by two quiet young women; we were alone in the room, but that was fine.

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PlovdivNa!onal Revival Houses

Drove north to Karlovo and along the Valley of Roses to Kazanlak. Were hoping to experience the “fields, saturated with the scent of roses and feel the breath of the Balkan mountains” since this is the height of the Rose Festival of Kazanlek. Not a hint of a rose in sight in more than 60 kilometers; no scents, no views. Once in the city of Kazanlak, found a line of scraggly rosebushes in the median of one street. Passing a public square, I saw a tented booth with a rose poster on it and jumped out to enquire. Inside a young woman was selling rose oil products. I bought a small vial of genuine rose oil (not sure what I plan to do with it, but this oil is unique to

the area). Amelia directed me around the corner to the tourist office where I was told the location of the UNESCO 4th century Thracian Tombs. Had a terrible time finding it but we can now cross another UNESCO site off our list. Could not visit the actual tombs, accidently discovered in 1944, but an exact reproduction that was adjacent to the site. The frescos were delicate in execution and of pale pastel colors. Happy that despite frustrations, we had managed to buy rose oil, visit a UNESCO site, buy stamps, mail a postcard, and take a photo of a genuine Kazanlek rose, all within an hour and a half and in the midst of intermittent rain.

Tuesday, June 5 Veliko Tarnovo, Bulgaria

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Thracian TombsUNESCO

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The sun tried to come out as we drove 25 km over the Shipka Pass (site of so many casualties in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877) that rises sharply from the valley floor to over 4000 feet. Stopped to see the Shipka Memorial Church, consecrated in 1902; a vibrantly colored confection dedicated to the war dead; could see the golden onion domes against the dense green of mountainside in the distance. By the time we descended from the pass, the rain became more and more persistent. Arrived in Veliko Tarnovo at 4:00 and wisely used the taxi-leading-Jake technique to find the Hotel Gurko on historic Gurko Street, the oldest high street in the town; it maintains its authentic traditional Bulgarian atmosphere. Our hotel is totally old school, with geranium-decked balconies, beamed ceilings, and an open-air restaurant with a stone floor, carved wood booths, and kilim-covered benches. After a walk in the rain while we took photos of the Ottoman-influenced houses (reminiscent of those in Albania), we spent the rest of the afternoon in the hotel’s restaurant, drinking rakija and listening to traditional Bulgarian music. Eventually, shared a dinner of wild mushrooms, gyuveche tsarevets, a spicy stew, and vegetable sach, with Mavrud red wine, unique to the area.

Ship! Memorial Church

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Veliko Tarnovo

Drove north toward the Romanian border at Ruse. As soon as we cleared Veliko, the sky cleared and we enjoyed pleasant rolling hills and fields of crops greening the fields. Turned off the main road 18 km south of Ruse to the village of Ivanovo. On both banks of the Rusenski Lom, a series of monasteries were cut into the craggy gorge from in the 13th century. One of them is open to visitors, the Tsarkvata or Holy Virgin’s Church. Jake and I climbed at least 100 rough stone steps up to a cleft in the sheer cliff far overhead, and entered the church, consisting of two chambers covered with vivid scenes from the New Testament, including scenes of the mocking of Christ and Judas’s suicide. We continued around the upper path to see a panorama of the valley; it was easy to see from that vantage point the amazing implausibility of the creation of the church in that location, and we realized why it is a UNESCO site.

Wednesday, June 6

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Rock-Hewn Churches of IvanovoUNESCO

Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a six-week trip to Southeastern Europe from May 9 ~ June 21, 2012. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2012. V. 4

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Deepe! communion wi" God is beyond words, on "e o"er side of silence.

~Madeleine L'Engle

2012 balkans 4: greece & bulgaria

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