Wednesday 25 July 2012

Copenhagen, the National Museum

My last day of my travels took me to the National Museum in search of Viking history. The museum offers a free entrance, which is a nice change, and has enough different exhibitions to need more than a day to see everything. That's how, having seen only half of what I wanted, I realised I had spent almost all the time I had left.

I started chronologically with the Stone Age, and managed to reach the Renaissance -after that, I was lucky, as some of the history I absorbed in the Krongor Castle covers parts of the last centuries.

The exhibits are well presented, with some generic texts giving background on the era and the themes presented -burial, bog bodies, amber, flint daggers...- and specific explication including the artefacts present in the exhibits.

Running along the exhibition is a tongue-in-cheek commentary, part of contemporary works designed to accompany it. It gives explanations of some exhibits: the remains of a woman and child becomes a witch, who fell into a cauldron with the sick child; a sword was, in fact, a sword of queen, which killed seven men -and as many-women- during a single battle, and when it passed to the queen's grandaughter, well, she used it to support her growing beans in her garden. And so on.

The Gundestrup Cauldron is the Danish equivalent of the Cratère de Vix - obviously foreign in origin, nobody knows how it ended up there. By the way, the Cratère de Vix is mentionned in the exhibit. Since parts of the evolutions presented -bronze swords, bronze metalwork- are Thracian in origin, I could relate to the artefacts I saw just three weeks ago in Thrace... or Bulgaria, which covers a large swath of what used to be called Thrace. And I feel that it is a fitting conclusion to my three-weeks journey.

Cratère de Vix

Tuesday 24 July 2012

Krongor Castle, the casemates

The casemates are the chambers included in the fortifications of the castle: situated both on and below ground, protected by the thick walls, it allowed men to take shelter during the sieges of the castle. It had its own stores as well as stables for the horses.

In the first room, which used to be the kitchen, the visit starts with a vending machine selling... lamptorches. I'm lucky enough to have my own light, and it served me well during the visit. But it is the first time I have had the use of my own light during a visit!

The tunnel slentes sharply downwards and leads to the resting chamber of Holger Danske or Ogier the Dane, who sleeps in time of peace but will waken in time of need to save his country. The following rooms holds texts and images depicting how the hero is part of the Danish culture. In those rooms, the barest lighting allows one to follow the arrows in a straight path; having one own's light allows the visitor to stray and to visit those rooms without a light. With so few visitors at a time, it is both daring and oppressive.

Holger Dansk

The visit continues one level lower, where there is even less light; from time to time, a dummy in historical costume renders the atmosphere: here a guard with a bow in front of a narrow window, there a civilian in the storage area.

Some door openings were so low that I had to really, really stoop to go through. And the whole complex would be very fun to play hide-and-seek in it.

Helsingør

Helsingør (better known as Elsinor, or Elseneur, perhaps), is the home of the Krondor castle, immortalized by Shakespeare in Hamlet.

(Getting used again to an AZERTY keyboard is a pain. Yes, I'm writing this while being back home.)

I learned that Hamlet's story is inspired by Denmark history, although the castle didn't exist when the original prince lived. However, Krondor castle had gained a vast reputation by the time Shakespeare wrote his tragedy, which might explain its setting.

But I go too fast.

Having woken up at 6AM, I decided it was the ideal time to get to the shower before any of the 9 or so other people sharing it. I was then at the train station shortly before 7AM, which allowed me to buy an advance ticket for the airport for the next day, realise the ticket is only usable the same day in the next 2 hours, wait for the opening of the counters at 7AM sharp, queue, get a refund, buy a breakfast to go and board the train for Helsingor which leaves at 7:12AM.

Which allowed me to arrive at my destination at 8AM, 2 hours before the castle opens to visitors. Well, that gave me the time to find out where the castle was (in front of the train station, with just some sea to get around to get to the place), to go the short way, discover it is blocked because of construction work, go the long way, arrive at the fortifications, and go around the same fortification before the tourists start arriving. I had the blue sea and the blue sky for me, sharing the paths with fishers on the beach, a few joggers and people walking their dogs.

The merman?


Krondor Castle


The castle is a beauty. Built in the Renaissance style, it includes a chapel with beautiful wooden pews, and worthy works of the 17th-19th centuries exposed in an exhibition of the castle's history in what used to be the king's chambers. Also within the castle lies the Maritime Museum, during which visit one can climb a tower and take advantage of the view, and finally, a visit of the casemates, which deserved to be told apart.






The morning walk and lunch in the sun have given me some nice sunburns that I hope will turn into suntan quickly... and having finished seeing everything there was to see, I went back to Copenhagen early enough to finish the afternoon in the gardens of the Rosenborg Palace, where it seems that half the city lays on the grass. So, having bought a diner picnic, I joined them.

Monday 23 July 2012

Copenhagen

This time, my travel time was longer: 8h30 hours and 3 connections later, Berlin was left behind in favor of Copenhagen.

Finding my way with a badly-printed map is slightly difficult, but knowing that the hostel was nearby, I persevered. The Tivoli Gardens, with their permanent fair -which reminded me of Vienna- are right in front of the train station, with is unsettling; but finaly, I made my way relatively straightaway to my hostel.

It is a bit shocking to find that every little service is charged, from sheets to internet; at least, I got a free map of the city. And after making my bed, I went out to try and take in as much of the city as I can.

There is a tour marked on the map, with the main sights of the capital. I started in front of the Town Hall, where some strange (American) Indian band with flutes and feathers were strating a show.

I got side-tracked on Ofelia Beach where a sand sculture festival is set for the Summer: as indicated, sand scultures from international artists are displayed on the artificial beach for the perusal of (paying) passers-by. The cafe had an interesting cider, with blueberry, which is intirely drinkable.



Leaving the sand behind, I continued my walk toward the Mermaid, waiting by the sea; I was far from being the only one seeking a picture. The lateness of the hour, however, afforded me a treasonable waiting time to have her by myself -at least on the pictures.



A walnut ice-cream later, I was starting the loop back to the hostel, crossing the Citadel, where grassy Vauban-shaped walks with old canons are the only reminders of the fortifications. In the courtyard, there are the modern buildings, but also a clever memorial for the Danes fallen in conflicts and the ones left behind. 


And having taken nearly 3 hours to walk and wander that far, I cheated and took a 10-min busride back to the hostel.

Sunday 22 July 2012

Postdam

We started the day with half a kilo of strawberries. You will be familiar with the junk food stands in the streets, but we discovered the strawberries stands, where you can buy fresh -an delicious- strawberries by the kilo.

Then we headed to Postdam and its wonderful palaces. We went around the Sansoucis Palace, the Picture Galery, the Chinese Pavilion, the New Chambers, the Lady's Wing, and criss-crossed the park looking for the botanical garden and its orchid greenhouse, which was, alas, closed to the public.

Nenuphar - Greenhouse

We learned more than we ever waited to on Rococo Style, painting, wood work and marbles, which are interesting but will need some time to sink in. We got some taning time in, too, while waiting for each other.

Postdam: the windmill
In the Chinese Pavilion, there is a peculiar echo effect when one stand in the middle of the room: the echo seems to be coming back from... above! We had fun declaiming Le Corbeau et le Renard to each other to test it.

And after a long and quite full day, we went back, me trudging along on nicely shaking knees.

Saturday 21 July 2012

Berlin

After a nice morning in the sun, and 5 hours of train travel, I arrived in Berlin to find my Mother and younger sister waiting for me.  We dropped my bag at the hostel (where a broken cage, a few feathers, and an empty aquarium with a few fishbones pay tribute to the working catflap) then went looking for a viable food option.

A very nice restaurant with gorgeous promise of German food took us in, with the warning that there would be a one-hour wait between ordering and receiving the dishes. Thus forewarned, we prepared for a long wait. And flustered, our food choices were not perfect...

So, disappointed and still hungry, we did what any tourist worth its salt would do: we took out the bread we had bought earlier for the next and made sure to clean our plates.

There was no reason to stop playing around in the restaurants, so, to the successive despair of each of us, I stole plastic knives and forks in our midday lunch break place the next day and we learned how to fold napkins in the pizzeria that fed us on the evening, to the great delight of the Italian waiters, who seeing our pitiful attempts, showed us how to do it.

Berlin also amazed us with interesting ways to bike. One circular bike has 5 seats, all facing inwards, where 5 people bike but only one pilotes the contraption; and there are, of cours, the bierbikes, small wagons where up to 15 or 20 people arranged around a beer bar cycle together, while a barman in the center keeps the beer flowing and a pilote steers the vehicule. 

This said, we didn't only go to restaurants in Berlin and gawk at bikes: I had a quick refreshing course ate Check Point Charlie, and we spent a day in Postdam...

Morning tea


I chose to sit in the courtyard, where the sunlight didn't yet reach the tables. The open door let the music out; they were playing the songs from the musical Hair. I had chosen a peppermint tea to go with my breakfast.

It was very quiet, peaceful.

Friday 20 July 2012

The Jewish cemetery of Wroclaw

Having decided not to visit the Jewish cemetery in Prague, I let myself be tempted by the one in Wroclaw.

After a pleasant morning walking around the Old Town, I took the tram (almost helped by my tramway maps, but not quite), and headed South.

The entrance is badly indicated, but after going along the wrong walls twice, and asking people, I discovered that the entrance was right where I arrived first and thought it should be.

The cemetery has had a rough history: quite old, although most tomds date from the 19th and 20th centuries, it was however used by the German in WWII as a fortress, which resulted in numerous destruction and impact craters in the tombstones.



But afterwards, nature was left to run its course, and the cemetery is completely overgrown. Ivy, ferns, holly and other vegetation are left to grow however they will, and only the path are (almost) clear of greenery. The result is astounding.

You have to imagine broken, damaged, crater-riddled stones, mausoleums, columns, overgrown by ivy, moss, with trees growing in between... it is immensely peaceful. It is a secret garden where the past stands still, where violence has left its mark and then has been subjugued by Nature.



It is a place that says: I have seen war, but it is not death that prevailed, it is life. Man comes and goes, lives and dies, and the Earth goes on.

I have loved each broken stone, each moss, each leaf, and my only regret was... the lack of bench to sit and be still.


Wroclaw

I had decided not to go there, but I changed my mind: Poland, here I am. Well, I mean, I am spending almost 48h in the country, it counts, doesn't it?

Wroclaw is a city worth spending a little time in. The friend who recommended it said it was one of the best Polish city for Westerner's first visit to the country, and I believe she is right.

The city itself has a rich history, having changed hands -and countries- quite a few times. It has been Polish, German, Austrian, and back, at different times along the centuries.

Wroclaw, city of dwarves

It is reflected in its architecture, I think, which reminds me of Germany for its churches in red bricks, the Netherlands for its narrow, high houses with peaked fronts, and the North in general for its houses painted different colours.




Well, it is true in the Old Town, and not that much further, of course.

Several islands in the river offer charming parks, the biggest bearing one of the churches.



One of the things that struck me right away is the respect for the traffic lights (as a good Parisian, I hold such conventions in due contempt), and I wonder if it is a mark of obedience to rules (noticeable in Germany, Switzerland...) or a healthy respect of inpredictable tramway crossing. The city is full of tramways. (And both my maps have each a slightly different layout of the public transport lines than observed in real life, which can make things interesting.)

Several highlights of the city were available to me: climbing one of the churches' towers for a view of the city, visiting the Raclavice Panorama, going to one of the numerous museums, even to the zoo. But I chose to go to the Jewish Cemetery, and I didn't regret it...


Wednesday 18 July 2012

The Museum of Communism

A bit hard to find, not that long, the Museum of Communism is however very well made and interesting. The exhibition takes the visitor on a historical tour of communism in Tchekoslovakia, with the rise and the fall of communism. It adresses historical, cultural, social, political and even artistic aspects of the period in exhibits offering explanations in 6 languages.

A very short side exhibit adresses current life in North Korea, which, I understand, is rather difficult to discover nowadays.

It offers an insightful view into that period, and I would recommand it.

The Sedlec Ossuary

Spurning an orgonised (and probably very interesting) tour to Kutna Hora, its several churches, and its silver mining history, I went by myself and went straight to the main sights: the Sedlec Ossuary. The city is reachable by an hour-long train trip, and the ossuary itself is maybe 15 minutes away from the station -all well-indicated, and anyway, following the other tourists is efficient.

It is an underground chapel where the bones of thousands of people are stacked, some of which are arranged in very elegant decorations, including a wold-famous chandelier. Some bones are covered in dust and cobwebs, and some, part of a candle-stand, are covered in wax. The chapel is quite small, and I think I was lucky that there weren't that many people.




It is overall impressive, and I don't regret taking the time to see it!

Tuesday 17 July 2012

Prague

I started by crossing the river on Charles Bridge, going there before the throng of tourists, as recommanded by the guide -and it is good advice. I walked up along steep streets, and arrived in front of the castle in time to see a few guards leave it in formation, wearing a nice uniform, to te great delight of us assorted tourists.

Charles Bridge

Charles Bridge: put your lock for eternal love
The castle. It is not that easy to call it a castle, since it is a complex of several buildings, amongs which are palaces, a cathedral, and several assorted churches, towers, and halls. Most building requires a different entrance fees, and there is an additional fee for taking pictures, which seems a strange organisation from my point of view.

After a quick tour of the cathedral and the inside courtyards, I went to my main purpose: the gardens. The paradise gardens lead me to the gardens on the remparts, which are really nice, and from there, to the gardens below the castle (yes, that seems to be their official name). The hill being more than steep there, it is in fact a series of terrace gardens, divided in five (I think) different vertical gardens, each with its own history: one used to be a vineyard, and belonged to a monastery, another belonged to a nobleman... They offer 5 different independant ways to go down, which means that to be really appreciated, one has to get back up!

Gardens
They also provide a gorgeous view on the old town and its roofs. I stayed there almost two hours, moving lazily from one to the other, in between bouts of sighseing, reading, sheltering from the rain and picnicing. There was this bench, on a corner, half sheltered from the rain, and still warm from the lingering sun... I did say that I like public benches, especially in nice and quiet places?



Gardens

Roofs of the old city from the gardens

Monday 16 July 2012

Music in Prague

(I antidated a note on Vienna, so don't forget to scroll down to read it.)

Diner was a success, and I met some very friendly people: an American, a Mexican, a Brazilian couple, an Uruguan... and I didn't have the time to chat with the Swedish girls or the German family. The dish was made of potatoes, onions, ham, all sliced and dices and cooked and then grilled in individual portions. We made enough for a battalion, which is appropriate, since I think I read it used to be soldiers' food.

I went for a walk afterwards and ended up in a church concert. (-Sorry, it's too expensive for me! -Wait we have student prices! -I'm not a student! *Furtive look*  -For you we make it the student's price!) Thing is, the organist was... disappointing, and the tenor singer, mostly good but far from outstanding (which can explain the price). If I, who am not a music expert, I wince when listening to organ music, then I do think it means the player is lacking.

At least, I got the Prague experience!

Tomorrow I should see  Charles' Bridge, the castle and its gardens; if my legs are still game, I'll visit the Communism Museum.

Cooking night

I arrived in Prague this afternoon, and I am writing while waiting for a cooking activity with one of the hostel's staff: we are going to cook and eat typical Czech food. See you later!

Sunday 15 July 2012

Vienna bis

Vienna.

I had a lovely time with Janina. We went out for brunch with a friend of hers, who quite convinced me that since I had some time between Prague and Berlin, Poland was the obvious choice, more to the point Wroclaw, with is quite close from Prague.

Brunches in Vienna are lavish things, with all-you-can-eat buffets, cold and hot food, nice waitresses... and of course, the company was the best.

Afterwards, we went for a walk in Spittelberg, in what used to be the red district, then we went for an ice-cream along the Danube river, and we ended up in the Prater park. Actually, we ended up at the amusement park, with is an horribly tempting thing fo me.

I rode the Riesenrad (the Ferris wheel), then went for a tour in the Liliputbahn, and egged on by Janina, we went on the Prater Turm (tower). People familiar with entertainment park attractions are familiar with the attraction where one sits in a chair which is then lifted a few meters and turns around. (People who know me know that I have always refused to go on it.) The Prater version is on a 117m-high tower. Let's just say that there were moments when I was a little tense.

And home, and later, diner, and for diner, we had... home-made schnitzels! (Whose meat needs tenderising, which I took care of with  a nice, solid pan. There are pictures. They won't be shared.)

Saturday 14 July 2012

Vienna!

Time for a break: I'm going to spend 2 nights in Vienna at Janina's resting, and my aching feet will thank me. (Have you tried a German keyboard wired on QWERTY? It's... fun.)

This morning, my last day in Budapest, I decided to go try one of the local bath, which is how I found myself riding around the public transports, back to the Pest castle, walking one of the bridges over the Danube before finally taking the train to Austria.

Strange.

Friday 13 July 2012

Budapest zoo

Well, thinking about my wallet, and place to see where I don't understand the language, I decided that visiting the zoo (free with the three-day card) was a good option. Relaxing, too. Of course, it ran when I arrived, but it didn't last very long (I'm not used any more to having rain, having have so much sun until Budapest).

So I saw seals, a polar bear, lions, tigers, pink flamingos, antelopes, frogs (and axolotl!), snakes, salamanders, turtles, kangaroos, monkeys... I have a lot of pictures, some may even be good, who knows?







The zoo is an old one, and for some of the animals, they have bronze statues of that animal nearby their pens... I think those pictures may turn out better than the ones of live, moving animals!

Tiger cub?
Dodo


The zoo is in a large park, with other museums and the castle. A dream castle, with moat, well, a pond, turrets, crenelation... and a statue of Anonymous. There is an explanation behind that I will read one these days.

The castle
 
Anonymous
In the park of the castle

For now, back to the hostel!

The joys of mixed dormitories

One of the cheapest way to travel is to stay in hostels, whose cheapest beds are usually in mixed dormitories. Traveling for three weeks, it's the choice I've made.

I've been lucky so far, with individual shower rooms mostly. But this time, I've lucked out. There are two shower stalls opening directly in the room, the same room one has to access to go to the toilets. Of the two showers, one is nearby a heater (a convenient shelf) and hooks. The other has no near means to hang clothes or towel.

Guess which one has the cold water?

Yesterday, when I finally came to the conclusion that getting the hot water was beyond my means, the bathroom was empty, allowing me to discreetly change stall. This morning however, while I was laying out my bottles, one of my male roommate chose this moment to enter the bathroom -scantily clad is the approved way of describing his clothing, I think- and sporting a morning wood (people under 18, please don't go and try to find the correct translation to that expression). Embarrassed, I went into the stall nearest my clothes, hoping that he would leave quickly; however, it became apparent that the lack of towel didn't stop him from taking the other shower, leaving me confronted to cold water. Moreover, more roommates made their entrance heard, which condemned me to that famous cold shower I was so hoping to avoid.

It's... bracing.

Thursday 12 July 2012

The Pest

(I used Google Translate on my Blogger interface ; publish becomes disclosure, and save rescue. I love it.)

In Budapest, there is the Buda district and the Pest district. Obviously. This morning I decided to visit the Pest. I was supposed to join a free 2-hours walking tour, but since no one appeared at the appointed time and place, either I read the guide wrong or when they say to contact them for informations they mean for reservation.

St Matthias' Church

Fisherman's Bastion


The Parliament

Shops

Anyway, it was a great idea to go there since what wasn't obvious from the guide is that this district is in the castle walls, with beautiful monuments, a gorgeous view on the city and the Parliament building, and many assorted tourist temptations. (My wallet is a lot lighter.)

Now, for some rest and a Turkish bath...

The military museum

... or the museum I visited by mistake. The one I wanted to see was the bunker and military hospital museum (... I think), which is 800m to the left of the museum on military history that I visited.

So I got a museum which offered English caption only for certain periods of history (19th century, 1st and 2nd World War), and German caption (in addition) for the 1st Wold War.

I also went back in time: starting with the 1956 Revolution, I went down to the second Wold War, then to the 19th century conflicts, back to the 1st World War. A mite confusing. Especially the parts completely in Hungarian.

Give me an art museum any day...

Wednesday 11 July 2012

Budapest

Finally, Hungary! The train journey was slightly long -12:30, plus 1 or 2 hours delay, I'm confused because I switched back to the western European time. After almost circling the train station twice, I found the ticket kiosk, then the subway, I went to the tourist information center to get my three-day card, and I got to my hostel.

This one is the real deal: huge dormitories, showers that open on the shared bathroom, cold water in one stall... a far cry from my dormitory in Brasov where I was alone because of a big group's cancellation!

I have started looking at things to day and I have come to the conclusion that 3 days are simply not enough.

Romania

What I like in Romania is the grocery shopping. For 22.50 lei, which is about 5 euro, I got:
- three tomatoes
- a 1.5L bottle of Granini juice
- a 400g yoghourt (Danone)
- a small tin of pate
- half a loaf of bread (500g)
- a box of Kiri-like paste
- a dry sausage

... which fed me for three meals.

Tuesday 10 July 2012

Brasov

(I'm writing this from Budapest, and I confirm that after using Blogger in Bulgarian, I had it in Romanian and now Hungarian. Thanks be to the god of user-friendly layout.)

Brasov is every tourist's dream of the perfect Transylvanian town. Old city center with its Middle-Ages fortifications, central square with paved stones, charming little streets...

I arrived in the city after a short train journey (at this point, a 3-hours journey seems short, especially since the train was comfortable). The track took us in the middle of sheer hills, little mountains, heavily wooded, with village roofs peeking through the scenery. It was very beautiful. My traveling neighbors were a young Finnish couple, with whom I started talking in the Brasov train station when it appeared that we were taking the same bus downtown, and which I met again during my visits.

Going straight to the tourist information center (well, I couldn't find my hostel, hidden behind a political party's offices), I got a map of the main attractions, and after settling in, I went out.

For once, the weather was slightly cloudy, which is why I took some sunburns, but at least, I didn't start melting as soon as I was outdoor.

The city has some interesting landmarks: the White Tower, the Black Tower (which is only black because it is in natural stones compared to its white-painted sister), the Black Church (yes, I know, they only have two colors), so named because it burned during I-don't-remember-which great fire, the "street of the rope", reputed to be Europe's narrowest street, Catherine's Gate, and others I didn't take the time to see. They are all either on the circle of the fortifications or inside, which makes it easy to visit in half a day, the time I had.

The White Tower
Catherine's Gate
The "Street of the Rope"


The Black Church is the biggest church between (I forget...) Sofia and Vienna? I'm not sure, and I don't have my guide with me. More than a 100 small carpets hang in the church, gifts from the guild members (weavers, wool merchants...) in thanks for successful business travels.

My stay was obviously too short: there are many things to see in this region, and I would have like to have more time to visit.

Monday 9 July 2012

Bucharest

My whole day being reduced to a half day, I actually made a half-hearted visit of the city. Enough to witness a dispute in the supermarket where I intended to buy supper, which concluded by the intervention of security staff in SUVs, bullet-proof vest and truncheon -I don't think they were policemen-, to walk to the Parliament -the second biggest building in the world, after the Pentagon-, and to see a few streets.



If Sofia struck me as sad, there was still a kind of pride in the city. More black and white, the building being either run-down or violently well-maintained. Few in-between.

But what I have seen of Bucharest is worse, instead of sadness, it was shame I felt from the building. Because most of the building and houses used to be elegant, coming from a wealthy past, and too many of them are debased -laundry lines running between pillars, or in what used to be elegant drives, grey walls, tags...-, inter-spaced by houses obviously newer, but imitating ineffectually a charm now past.

Where Sofia proudly displays its ugly housing, Bucharest is awash in cheap imitation of charm.

Night train

So, I boarded the night train from Varna, Bulgaria, to Bucharest, Romania. Leaving at 23:10, I was supposed to arrive at 6:25 Monday morning -this morning.

So I put my clock early enough to have the time to wash up before arriving, thinking of the delicious breakfast I would enjoy in the capital after leaving my backpack again in the care of a luggage office in the train station and before visiting leisurely the city. If you are starting to smell a rat, it is because there is a big one.

We were woken in the middle of the night, presumably at the frontier, to show our passports. The train going to Moscow, and my three compartment neighbours going there, they had passport while I had my identity card -which I got back right away after a quick look, while the passports were taken away and brought back later. Nice, to be a European travelling in Europe.

We had two passport controls, both with lengthy wait, at the point that when my alarm rang, at quarter to 6, we were at a standstill somewhere. My phone was still on the Bulgarian network, which tipped me that we weren't exactly near my destination. The staff confirmed my conclusion and I managed to understand that we would arrive at 9:30.

We didn't.

Finally, we arrived at 13:40, which quite simply doubled my original travel time. Of course, I was hungry, having no food with me, and it is only when I left that I understood that there were free soup to be had, the boiler look-alike at the end of the carriage being a kind of urn.

Conclusion, hungry, sweaty -there is no air-conditioning, and when the train isn't moving, no breeze-, I accepted the first -okay, the second, I eat at the MacDonald's at the end of the tracks first- offer to take a taxi and find a hostel. I was thus thoroughly ripped off by the driver, who took me 35 lei (around 9 euros) to take me on a 5 min course. (It is in easy walking distance to the station.) Well, I can afford to be ripped off in Romania, and the hostel is cheap, has a laundry service, and a large shower.

Sunday 8 July 2012

A reservation, not a ticket!

It is fairly easy to buy a ticket in a foreign language. You write down the time of the train, you say the word "ticket" in the local language, and you add the name of the destination. Actually, you can even skip the middle step. If you are at the counter that sells ticket and you say your destination, it will work.

But I don't need to buy a ticket, I need to buy a reservation to complete the ticket I already have (and to know if I have enough cash, or if I need to withdraw money, because they don't take the Visa). Try to explain that in Bulgarian to someone who don't recognize my rail Pass! It can get... interesting.

So, in Plovdiv, after failing to make myself understand at the counter, I went looking for the on-board staff, waiting by the train. I was lucky to find a woman who spoke a few words of English and who recognized my Pass, and who knew what I wanted. So she took me back to the counter and bought my reservation for me.

That is why I was early at the train station.

So, forewarned, and armed with the reservation stub, I thought I had only to show both ticket and reservation at the counter in Varna to get my reservation to Bucharest. Since I arrived from Plovdiv at 13:40 and I intended to take the night train at 23:10 to Bucharest, I had the entire afternoon to take care of my ticket, but I thought prudent to get it before I did anything else.

Well, that was also fun.

I left my backpack at the luggage storage -the nice man spoke a few English words, which helped me afterwards. I went to the ticket counter, where the lady spoke Russian but no English, but understood what I wanted from my ticket because she wrote something on the back of my morning train reservation with great satisfaction.

Have you tried to read handwritten Bulgarian? You know, with the Cyrillic characters? Because the only thing I understood was "#13", which didn't take me far.

So I went to a different counter advertising accommodation for vacationing people, hoping they would speak more English there: the woman knew enough to indicate that it was an address. I got the sudden suspicion that international reservation were to be bought at travelling agencies.

I went back to the nice luggage man, who asked his colleagues about the address, and they called to make sure it was open (Sunday, remember?) and gave me directions to get there. (It was actually 5 min away.) Since I was still at the stage to try and understand what the address was about, I was most grateful to them.

So, having spent the afternoon gazing at the sea, I spent my last money on a sandwich for dinner and boarded my night train.

And that train was another adventure...

Varna, and the Black Sea

I left Plovdiv early Sunday morning (my train was at 7:17, so when I say early, I mean that no one was awake at the hostel...).

I was very lucky to find that Varna's train station is by the sea, which means that I was on the beach after a short walk. Actually, there was a long pier, so I kind of avoided the sand since I had my hiking shoes and didn't want to go barefoot.

I found a place to sit in the shade facing the sea, and I watched, read and slept the afternoon away. My only purpose in coming to Varna was to watch the sea -as always, it lifts my soul, put a silly grin on my face, and makes me feel at peace with my world.



As the afternoon faded away to early evening, I walked the pier for its entire length -and it is a long one. It is a thing of concrete, sometimes washed away, revealing its underlying metal structure. It is bordered by concrete thingy -2m-tall, they have four spikes, so that they always lay on three spikes with the fourth standing up, and they are used to stop boats from approaching a place. At one place, they were piled haphazardly, reaching to to top of the pier, and it looked as if they were taking the place by storm, piling one on top of the other. Farther, they were lined up, only their top emerging, and the sea swelled on them symmetrically, coming and going in an elegant movement. The waves would break on others, with a high spray.



Hum. Have I enough said that I love the sea?

So. I have seen the Black Sea.

Saturday 7 July 2012

Plovdiv

Plovdiv tries harder than Sofia to be pleasant to tourists.



There are still ugly houses wedged between clean ones, but the city center tries to hide it and the Old Town, with the ruins of the Roman city it used to be, banished entirely all sign of disrepair.



That said, touring the Roman forum, the Roman Theater and the Roman Stadium, as well as the Old Town, took me all of half a day. Some of the ruins are well-maintained, and the Roman Theater is still used to host plays, but the ruins of the Middle-Age citadel are heavily tagged. The view is still breathtaking, if one ignores the broken bear bottles underfoot.

The Roman forum


The Roman theater


There are many shops (for tourists!) with Bulgarian craft, which seems divided between hand-woven clothes and decorative textiles, straw objects, and potteries. And there is some wood-carving, followed by icon-making. And silver filigreeing jewelery (also I haven't seen any since Sofia).

A bientot pour de nouvelles aventures!