wow..bulgaria..i didnt know anyone who'd go to bulgaria of all places! that region is full of opportunities now, isnt it?
just a few days ago, i recd a vial of perfume oil of rose from bulgaria from a friend. he used to be with the peace corps in macedonia. of course, i dont know if the stuff is real, but the wooden container that holds the vial is really pretty.
when i used to live in london and during the bbc prom season, a pretty young girl used to be a regular to the concerts. she was delicate, but still had a strong profile of someone with a backbone forged from iron. we'd smile at each other, but once she burst into tears while listening to shostakovich...uh oh...she is a product from the time of the iron curtain, i thought. i hugged her as she cried and we took the night bus together. she said she was from bulgaria and that she missed home...which was, of course, heartbreakingly beautiful..as all emigres feel about their native land. but she also said that there was no future back in bulgaria and that she is happy to be in london, but sad at the same time. i told her that i'd like to visit bulgaria at some point and she rattled off a lot of places that i *must* visit..of which i remember nothing. except of course, sofia hagia about which i already knew...
did i mention that she was really really pretty?
and my vial of roses smell nice too...maybe one day, i'll visit the sofia hagia.
Sofia - Kyundestil, Rila, Melnik, Gotse Delchev, Dospat, Pompograd, Brachov Monastery, Plovidv - SOfia
The wonderlands of Southwestern Bulgaria - near Dospat
A wild dog at a water hole in the Rodopi Mountains
1 comment:
wow..bulgaria..i didnt know anyone who'd go to bulgaria of all places! that region is full of opportunities now, isnt it?
just a few days ago, i recd a vial of perfume oil of rose from bulgaria from a friend. he used to be with the peace corps in macedonia. of course, i dont know if the stuff is real, but the wooden container that holds the vial is really pretty.
when i used to live in london and during the bbc prom season, a pretty young girl used to be a regular to the concerts. she was delicate, but still had a strong profile of someone with a backbone forged from iron. we'd smile at each other, but once she burst into tears while listening to shostakovich...uh oh...she is a product from the time of the iron curtain, i thought. i hugged her as she cried and we took the night bus together. she said she was from bulgaria and that she missed home...which was, of course, heartbreakingly beautiful..as all emigres feel about their native land. but she also said that there was no future back in bulgaria and that she is happy to be in london, but sad at the same time. i told her that i'd like to visit bulgaria at some point and she rattled off a lot of places that i *must* visit..of which i remember nothing. except of course, sofia hagia about which i already knew...
did i mention that she was really really pretty?
and my vial of roses smell nice too...maybe one day, i'll visit the sofia hagia.
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