A Bulgarian diary: the closing pages

Final thoughts on errant drivers and the kindness of strangers before I (hopefully) leave Bulgaria

Text: Colin Munro

I moved to Bulgaria three years ago, after a messy divorce back in Surrey in the UK. Shortly after arriving here I wrote a couple of short pieces for The Sofia Echo under the titles "A Bulgarian Diary: Parts one and two". They described my adapting to village life in a little place near Veliko Turnovo. The culture shock took some getting used to, after living in close proximity to London, the quirkiness of Bulgarian village life came as something of a total surprise to me. Now after adapting to and adopting my new home, it's sadly time to move on. While little has changed in my village since I first moved here, much has changed in my personal life. I have a new wife, a lovely Australian lady, who has just become a grandmother and is missing her family back in Australia. So a few months ago we bought a house by the seaside in the State of Victoria in the charming town of Mornington.
 
We'd hoped to be spending Christmas there, but unfortunately that is appearing to be ever more unlikely. Blame the world economic recession, blame falling house prices in the UK, or foreigners' belief that a dream home in Bulgaria can still be found for less than the cost of a new car in the UK. Blame estate agents who seem to lack even the most rudimentary sales skills. Whatever the reason we just cannot seem to sell either of the two houses we have on the market. My wife moved from Melbourne in Australia to be with me and bought a large house with a huge plot of land a few doors down from my rebuilt village house. She put a lot of time and thought and money into renovating it to conform to Western standards. We both felt that we had invested wisely. My house is fully furnished, and as the cost of transporting anything back to Australia is prohibitive I'm selling it contents complete, TV, computer, dishwasher, cooker, washing machine, beds, linen, cutlery, lounge suite, dining room table, English books and DVD collection and yes even the kitchen sink. I also installed central heating downstairs. Both houses are priced at 50 000 euros each.
 
Our village is small, but unlike many rural communities here in Bulgaria, it is not dying. New houses are springing up and my Bulgarian friends tell me that one day it will be as popular as the up-market area known as Arbanassi near Veliko Turnovo. I'm personally hoping that that day won't come; our village has character that comes from the inhabitants themselves. We have our own village idiot, an amiable man who formerly supplied the residents with homemade rakiya, till a dispute with his neighbours brought the wrath of the tax department down upon his head. He was frequently to be seen before this unhappy event clutching a bottle of Coca-Cola, partially filled with home brew. Sadly, the last time I saw him on the street he had been forced to descend to drinking Black Ram whisky. We also have the Turkey Man and the Goat Lady, we have a nun at the local monastery who tried to sell us property on the other side of the Shipka Pass. All of these people contribute to the soul of the village. I will miss them as I will also miss the water-powered carpet cleaning station, the swimming hole at the nearby river and the small pub-come-restaurant The Leaf where a coke and a kyufte can still be had for a miserly sum. I will not, however, miss the frequent power cuts affecting Bulgaria. Any Western country receiving such a shoddy service from their energy suppliers would have had that supplier shut down by now. I haven't been impressed either by some of the estate agents we've had to deal with, forget corruption or scams, just a professional approach to selling our property would have been welcomed.
 
I will also not miss the morons in motors who constantly put their lives and, more importantly, other lives at risk. The Bulgarian Government could do worse than to make EVERY driver in Bulgaria undergo another driving test, this time driving a car rather than a horse and cart. I will be leaving Bulgaria (hopefully) with fond memories of little kindnesses shown to me by the long suffering Bulgarian people, from local shop assistants, to the best mechanic in the world (Alexander, the Maestro, from Kilifarevo). I leave, hoping that eventually the hard working Bulgarian people get the government they deserve after so many years of corruption and greed from their ministers. Unfortunately, unless you know of someone wanting to buy a house or two only 15km from Veliko Turnovo, it doesn't look like I'll be leaving anytime soon.
 
Haide, ciao.

Source: sofiaecho.com