Beaches and Beanies

Firstly a point of order. Some have noticed an absence of photos from our trip. We have some very illustrative shots that we would love to share with you but an absence of internet cafes and cable stores has made the transfer of data problematic. We here at Fareid Saunders enterprises apoligise for the inconvienice and are working dilligently to rectify the problem in the coming weeks. Until then a 'thousand words' will have to be worth 'a thousand words'.

I am looking at the choppy waters of the Black Sea. The cobbled streets and historic houses have been retrofit for tourist action. The sounds of smooth, indesipherable, valiumic latinyfunkyjazz provide the backing for a cheescake sitting in its cool glass cage. But like the cheescake, this town is intended to be used at a different time. Though unlike its cakey compatriate the town is made for the future (summer) and the cake should have been eaten a few days ago.

We arrived in Sozopol yesterday and are having a rest day after our first six days of riding. We explored this beach getaway and found about four percent of the the shops to be open. In fact our arrival at the hotel seemed to catch them off gaurd. "Guests? But you need a down jacket just to approach the waters edge.". That said the ladies who run this hotel have been very easy and welcoming and put on lovely meals for us so nothing bad has come of our entrance!

Since last post we continued to grow our quadraceps at the expence of roads that snaked and coughed through industrial towns for a while. Between the towns the country started to open up, mostly farmed land and not much in the way of trees. Our last night in Turkey was in the large town of Kirkrelli. Our first kilometre along the fourty kilometer journey to the border introduced us to a road of a quality that we had not yet encountered. Autobarn esq highway and very little in the way of traffic and it was flat... for about ten kilometers and then began the climb. Climb we did for about thirty liometers to the border. Our last experience of Turkey, after having our documents checked was at the last checkpoint. At the boomgate that seperated us from no mans land and eventually Bulgaria was a man. The border gaurd and three of his friends, all having a tea party. Ahhh, we laughed, took photos and hugged as if we were old fiends upon departure. It was a wonderful way to leave the country and the symbolism was not lost on us.

Entry into Bulgaria was matter of fact, without emotion and eerily quiet. We came down the first hill into the first town. It was late afternoon and we were tired and a little apprehnisive as to what this new country would be like. Immidiately the vibrancy of the people had all but switched off. All were stonefaced and the familiar symphony of encouraging honks was replaced by the sparcley connectd chug of 1960's diesl VW vans.

We pushed on the the top of a nearby hill and set up camp for the evening. Shortly thereafter we were joined by a friendly dog. Who stayed with us until bored of our company and then journeyed off into the bushes. The night passed without event until day break. "Karro. Karro. Do you hear that?... Let's get up". We arose and what we had heard was the mumbles of a Sheepless Shepard wandering the hills in the glory of a new morning. Harmless but never the less an effective alarm. The day was magic and the riding fantastic. The spring time oak forrest with a charmimg pot holed road excited the imagination and was an awesome experience.

And now here we are at the Black Sea. The journey has started and looking back at our start in Asia on the other side of the Bosphorous it seems a long time ago now. The next big challenge is the Transalvanian Mountains in Romania. Home of Dracula, maybe we will eat some strange new things? But not the cheescake that has, since I begun writing, been removed from its transperant paleative care unit and is now hopefully destroyed.

View Larger Map