Escaping Winter's Shackles

“Spring had arrived, at last!” Or so I mistakenly thought a number of times when I caught glimpses of the early March sun, or leapt puddles formed by snowmelt through Sofia’s streets. But winter was not done yet, its talons firmly drawing back the cover of cloud and snow that had cloaked Bulgaria. Sunshine seemed a distant memory, and increasingly fearful that spring was bypassing Sofia, I headed into the countryside in search of those signs of spring that would enable me to remove my martenitsa.Increasingly frayed, faded, and beginning to smell, the martenitsi that I had innocently donned at the beginning of March had become like handcuffs. Little realising at the time that wearing martenitsi represented a long-term commitment, I was only later aware that I needed to eat, drink, sleep, and bathe with these things chained to all available limbs. Upon hearing that I must wait for sight of a stork before I could earn parole, I had eagerly scanned Sofia’s skies for birds, frustration turning to dismay when I became aware that the only winged creatures brave enough to fly through Sofia’s polluted air were malformed pigeons. There was a danger that I may have unwittingly accepted a life sentence at the martenitsa prison, for my Bulgarian visa was soon due to expire and my onward journeys took me far beyond the migration path of storks. It was time to take matters into my own hands – if the storks wouldn’t come to me, I must hunt (for) them.As soon as a favourable weather forecast appeared on the radar, I jumped on a bus to Vidin, in hope that perhaps some feathered friends would be flying up the Danube.On reaching Vidin, spring peeked its head over the horizon and but the occasional cloud decorated the sky.Vidin enjoys one natural advantage sorely lacking in Sofia: a river. The Danube looks as most large rivers do, but something about its scope lends it an air of added importance for, if the water’s colour is anything to judge by, it has travelled a long way through a lot of lands. There was something pleasing to the eye about the Danube, an uninterrupted vista to Romanian forest that perhaps foretells of wonderful summer evenings lazily spent in the riverside park. Vidin’s long history is narrated along the riverside – Roman remnants bearing evidence to its ancient importance, and signs that tell of its relevance through to the end of Ottoman occupation. Vidin may have had its charms and a few eye-catching buildings, though the skeleton of a synagogue attested to its dearth of winter atmosphere. Unimpressed by illegal double charging at the fort and both hotels of interest, and with no obvious sign of stork activity, I decided to abandon Vidin in favour of Belogradchik.There were a lot of people on the streets of Belogradchik the next morning. The blue sky and perfect weather had seemingly drawn people out of doors as they busily went about their morning shopping. The clothes market was drawing the attention of many, and numerous local Roma seemed to be enjoying the fine conditions while keeping the streets clean of rubbish and snow. The town seemed happily involved in its own affairs without outside pressure, with many people actively engaged in enjoying pension collection day, standing around yarning as if waiting for the tourist who would sensibly come through in later, warmer months. The early arrival of a tourist drew blank stares, as if such a thought at this time of year was beyond comprehension. Accordingly, I was surprised by the response to my question “when does the information centre open?” I merely had the intention to enquire which is the best walking route through Belogradchik’s scali, as the local mapping was somewhat confusing. It was as if the town snapped its heels together and suddenly, in the epitome of crazy Bulgarian logic, a manhunt through the town ensued. Mobile phones were produced, and after a quick succession of calls I was whisked away in a van to meet with someone who spoke reasonable English. He explained that we were searching for an American from the Peace Corps that manned the information centre, eventually to be found at her home, from which we were spirited to the top of the hill to tour the Skali.The Belogradchik Skali are one of Bulgaria’s natural wonders, a playground where mother nature has sculpted a myriad of jutting rocks that assume a variety of human and animalistic forms. Already a well-known destination, much has already been written about the rocks which I shall not repeat – suffice to say that wandering through the rocks, enjoying the crisp fresh air and soothing birdsong provides a blissful alternative to Sofia’s kill-or-be-killed atmosphere. The view from the township shows the impressive extent of the outcrops, but wandering along the “marked” yellow path beyond the fortress provides an up-close-and-personal interaction with the rocks’ individuality, my neck regularly craning in four directions at once in an attempt to take it all in. It is quite easy to believe that the Skali have a personality of their own, changing in appearance as the sun changes its angle and intensity; thus a visit in early spring illuminates forms that would appear quite different come summer – shelves of snow highlight horizontal ledges, vertical drops host frozen waterfalls, and the landscape assumes the appearance of a frosted wedding cake. While the rocks’ deep orange colour lacks the contrasting green that spring foliage provides, the winter absence of leaves in the trees allows for less-obstructed viewing.The Belogradchik fortress is visually impressive, the union of man-made defence about a natural stronghold perfectly positioned, with the highest defensive wall enabling spectacular views of the township and surrounding countryside. Winter makes the fortress even more impregnable – as I battled with snow and ice in my conquest of the summit, I was glad that the sunny day and favourable weather did not whip the life out of me as the previous night’s icy wind might have. From the town, an imposing wall of rock seems to prevent access to the summit, causing me to wonder how the Bulgarian flag stood hoisted on the peak. However, the fortress’ main entrance is easily accessible and the stairs up to the peak have a railing that should prevent most people from falling to their death. The view is worth swallowing anti-dual-pricing ideals for, though at three leva, you shouldn’t be too incensed. A major part of a visit to Belogradchik is the journey itself, which gives a wide-ranging overview of the Bulgarian landscape, taking in fields and villages, mountains and gorges, providing a glimpse into the life of regular folk, and clearly demonstrating human interaction with the environment. Roma collecting and splitting firewood before transporting it on horse-drawn carts vie for road space with lorries and occasional modern tractors. The overpowering force of nature is illustrated by the Iskar River’s carved passage through to Mezdra, the towering cliffs dwarfing man’s efforts in quarrying. The mini-bus from Belogradchik wound a beautiful path back down towards the plain and Oroshets train station. At one stage the road that appeared before us seemed like a strand of spaghetti snaking its way down the side of a pasta bowl, as though road engineers had accounted for Bulgarian drink-driving habits and compensated for likely drunk swerving and overcorrection in order to provide a safe passage down the mountain.Bulgaria’s beauty is unmistakable, and Belogradchik is one of its highlights. Its almost a pity that the hulky rusted-metal remnants of a building decorates one view of the Belogradchik skali, this could be seen as ruining the view if not for the fact that its ugliness is merely another reminder of Bulgaria’s distasteful charms. Similarly, there’s an unsightly beauty to the ghosted out shells of industry, the innumerable factories that line the train tracks attesting to communism’s former glory. It seems inescapable that in search of beauty in Bulgaria, you will be enclosed by its opposite. Consequently it may be better to enjoy it rather than ignore it, poetically illustrated by the stork I was fortunate enough to observe in the vicinity of a prison, thus ending my martenitsa incarceration. If there’s beauty to be found in a landfill site, one wonders speculatively that perhaps, in the same way warehouses have become inner-city chic, so too may factories attain some appeal or achieve some sort of heritage listing. However, if you’re more interested in appreciating natural beauty and have access to your own transport, an extensive cave system, including the famed Magura cave, lies nearby and may be more to your liking.How to get there:There is only one direct bus each day Sofia-Belogradchik. The alternative is to catch a bus to Vidin (numerable) and then another onwards (5 daily, last departure 5.30pm). Alternatively, the train ride through to Oroshets takes marginally longer; from there connect to a minibus bound for Belogradchik.Where to Stay:Hotel Ray is the cheapest option, with rooms from 20 leva. Hotel St Valentine may represent higher quality and better value, starting from 30 leva. Both are within 100m from the bus station. The Madona is a family run pension recommended by trusted guidebooks.