Bumbling Along The Black Sea Coast

The Black Sea filled us with more dreams, more visions of more fun, more hopes for future visits, than anywhere else in Bulgaria. How could one lie on the sands of Sozopol and not wish to stay forever, to purchase a bungalow and settle down to a life of idle strolling along the ancient town's streets? We spent four nights on the coast, two in Bourgas and two in Sozopol. Our excursion therefore required some driving on top of the seven long hours it took to reach the sea from the capital. This driving was instructive, because it took us past some of the most loathsome construction projects I've ever seen here. In Vlas, a town just north of Sunny Beach, for example, we saw 200-room hotels under construction, lined up like dominos or suburban tract housing. We didn't see any parking garages. Street curbs weren't being widened. The beach remained the same size it's been for years, when the new projects were only a twinkle in some greedy developer's eye. It's not an original observation, but it bears repeating: Bulgaria's seaside is heading for a train wreck unless the politicians do something fast. Bourgas we found charming, simply because it's a working city free from the hype and tourist traps we encountered everywhere else in the area. We stayed at the Hotel Bulair at 7 Bulair Street, for 70 leva a night (056 844 389). It was a comfortable spot that was close to the city's main thoroughfare to the beach, Aleko Bogoridi Boulevard, a walkway lined with shops and cafes. The food at the Bulair was passable Bulgarian fare. The trout, fittingly, was better than fish I've ordered in Sofia. In the morning the hotel served a breakfast targeted towards foreigners, including an egg and cheese sandwich for around five leva that really should have been called, if we're being picky, fried cheese and egg on toast. Unlike overdeveloped Sunny Beach, Bourgas has a park, called the Sea Gardens, which abuts the portion of its coastline not devoted to its port. Bars and clubs are interspersed throughout the park. You can walk around at night and follow the thumping beats or smell of grilled meat until you find what you're looking for. We opted for Club Elite, an open-air joint filled with young folks dancing and drinking the night away. It's a 10-minute walk into the Sea Gardens if you take a left when you reach the park at the end of Aleko Bogoridi. Here we observed something about Bulgarians that was witnessed again in Sozopol: the phenomenon where Bulgarian men don't dance, but instead watch as their women prance and boogie with each other. That cultural clash aside, I recommend Club Elite to anyone who wants to stay out past three in the morning. Nessebur, I must admit, was disappointing. Yes, it is quaint. Yes, it has many old churches. It juts out into the water, making it a perfect place to have a beer and stare out at the blue ocean. But the smell of tourism is on the place. It is a museum that caters to day trippers. The best part of our afternoon in Nessebur was jumping into the sea at a little beach on the southern tip of the town, much to the amazement of locals who thought we were insane. They thought the water was much too cold. We also haggled a bit with a woman selling table cloths and other knitted wares. We purchased beautiful big linens for around 70 leva a piece, certainly cheaper than what we would have paid for the same item at one of the stands near Alexander Nevski in Sofia. Sozopol is a whole other story. It is a living town, and we spent much of our time there in the so-called New Town, or Harmanite district, where people might depend on tourism but still rear children and live their lives like normal people. We stayed in the Hotel Briz for 40 leva a night for a double (ask for Cleo at 0886 173 400). It's a brand new place with a view of Sozopol's South Beach, about a 15-minute walk from the Old Town. In July and August, Cleo said, the rates shoot up to 45 euro a night. After spending our day swimming in the briskly cold water, which, sad to say, contained the occasional floating plastic bag, we headed out in search of nightlife. The Tequila Bar is a must. It's a on a barge in the marina, off Kraybrezhna Street, across from the navy base. Patrons were divided down the middle between Bulgarians and out-of-towners, specifically a group attending a NATO-sponsored convention on nanotechnology. We tried desperately to discover why an organisation devoted to tanks and jets is interested in microscopic machines, but the conventioneers, despite their PhDs, failed to convince us. We also went to the Paradise Bar, a chalga club in the New Town. You'll just have to ask where it is. We arrived there in a blur. In the bar we again saw the phenomenon of men standing against the wall as the women - here scantily clad - gyrated before them. A young lady actually shook her finger at one of us, as if he had suggested something uncouth, when he held out his hand and beckoned her to dance. Friends drove us to the coast in a minibus, but we made our own way back. You can buy 19 leva tickets for an express bus from Sozopol to Sofia at a booth across from the military club in Sozopol's main square in the New Town, next to the Black Sea Hotel (but it might be hard to tell where the hotel is because its sign is falling down). The booth is in an area with a number of internet cafes, whose signs are obviously new. Be warned, however, that the booth closes between one and three o'clock. It was hard to leave Sozopol. On the morning before I left, I walked along the street leading into the Old Town, the shadows and sunlight falling through the trees on the pavement. I saw a guy I'd met in The Tequila Bar. He was sitting in a park with friends, smiling and conversing with his hands. It seemed like the whole town was the only place in the world. A small, easy place.