Istanbul - Sofia

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June 4th 2005-

Left the group in Istanbul, for some reason I was getting a little nostalgic even though the entire trip all I could think about was how to get the hell away from most of them. I hate goodbyes, and living the type of life I did, its been full of them. I especially hate them when people try and turn them into some emotional ‘ill never see you again’ type crap. I go to school with all these people so I be seeing them again come 2 months. But even those crappy goodbyes couldn’t dampen my lightened spirit this morning. I awoke with that fresh aura of new opportunity. I am about to set off on my adventure, possible the biggest adventure of my lifetime, though I sincerely hope greater excitement lay in my future. I’m off to meet up with an old friend who lives in Bulgaria and then travel with her for a week or so through the Balkans or wherever the road takes us (trying to stick to the road less traveled), then I’ll continue working my way overland to meet my parents in the Italian Alps and then off to southern France for a one month language course in the town of Aix-en-Provence.

I have to admit though, I did take some pleasure in the reaction of the rest of the group to my departure. They seem to view my travels with a mixture of jealousy and awe. No, not awe, most of them had too much pride for that, but I guess, some sort of respect for my supposed sense of adventure. It gave me a type of Indiana Jones type feeling, setting out that bright, sunny, crisp morning in Istanbul. Sure my travels pale in comparison to many you find on this site, but hey- for me this is big:-)

The bus stop was annoying. I felt that old feeling of anxiety start to rise in me again. I am promising my self that I will enjoy this trip, I’m not going to worry about what happen if things go wrong, not worry about offending anyone with my cultural ignorance, or in that case, my general ignorance. I was pleasantly suprised with the bus and the service, it was a huge, full size bus with only 10 people or so on board, and every hour or so there was a person who came around with snacks and tea, just like on an airline! I hope i didnt accedentally get a first class bus ticket or something, i mean its nice, but i'd much rather save a few bucks...

The border with Bulgaria had the feel of old massive communist bureaucracy. There must have been 6 separate check points, all checking something different. Here I met my Bulgarian friend, have to remind myself to ask for his name latter. Walking across the border we traded the preliminary information- he’s Bulgarian from Sofia and was just coming back from his visit to turkey, he didn’t seem that impressed with the country. My respect for him rose quickly after I asked him whether he’d been to American, no he hasn’t and didn’t seem to excited at the prospect. I’m so tired of hearing everyone tell me how great American is and how they want to go there because everything is wonderful there. This guy knows his shit, knows the difference between the exported American culture and the real life, often an impossible feat for people who have never visited. I soon found he speaks Arabic fluently as his father lives in Jordan, and he stayed for a month in Cairo, much more enthusiastic about that place than either turkey or America- once again: respect level rising. He tells me Sofia is a great place to party, especially for techno, this is what I want to hear. Also says Bulgarian women are great, better than Turkish or American (who he describes by placing his hands a meter apart and telling me flatly with a straight face and a thick accent “fat ass”) He freely relates to me how he had to pay 3 times as much for a “sharmoonta” in Egypt because he was a foreigner. Not sure if Bulgarians don’t have the same taboo about sex and hookers that America does, but I really like this culture so far.

So here I am, in no-mans land between Bulgaria and Turkey, talking in half Arabic, half English with a guy who‘s half Bulgarian, half Jordanian, about the quality of the whore in Cairo. I couldn’t be happier. Quite suddenly I became involved in “smuggling” two cartons of cigarettes across the border. My new friend plops down next to me on the bus while we are waiting at one of the innumerable checkpoints, handing me the two boxes while explaining how the girl in the back, the one with a couple front teeth missing, bought 7, and your only allowed to bring in 2 to the country. Now, as visions of cocaine, and the inside of a Bulgarian jail dance through my head, I could have said no, but stupidly I accepted at the risk of not being accepted by my new Bulgarian friend. Of course the girl still had 5 boxes, so when the customs people came, they confiscated the boxes and made her pay a fine (or this is what my friend translated for me) Then we had to wait for 45 min while she sorted it all out. I can’t believe the bus actually waited, im in no hurry at all, but I thougth we should leave her just on principal, she knew exactly how many boxes she could take back, and she knew what would happen when the customs people came. There was no chance that they would miss them, I just don’t understand what was going through her head….stupid people are always fascinating. So after waiting 45 min we left without her anyways, I was a little happier. My first time in Bulgaria. The road sucks compared to Turkey. I soon see the remains of the old communist government. The first town we pass is littered with old, drab cement government funded housing sprinkled amid rusting factories with broken windows and weeds sprouting everywhere. I love it.

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