... at least that's what Prekrasnaja said when we arrived at her family's place in Pleven, Northern Central Bulgaria after 15 hours of travelling and seven different modes of transport. And really - our arrival offered everythin one would put in a novel about Bulgaria. It was not at all like Sweden. An unlikly trafficjam in the entrie center of Sofia. The cabdriver smoked and tried to cheat us on money.
Then the trip continued in a Marschrutka populated by a few more travellers than us,most of whom where constantly speaking on their mobile phones. The most expressive of them called various friends to tell about her new found lover. When she didn't have anyone to call, she competed with the driver in playing annoyingly lound chalga music.
Finally in Pleven we needed one more cab. Without boasting I can say that my Bulgarian is sufficient for most situations like these. But I didn't get one single word of what the driver was saying. She did, thugh, and we sailed off, I next to him, in a cab that looked like it needed a few serious fixes. The driver had wisely enough downprioritized things like shock absorbers in order to buy a colour TV, complete with a remote control.
But we arrived, and had some unlikely tasty sarmi (kåldolmar) and red wine, and suddely Bulgaria was a warm and relaxed country. The contrast could not have been bigger to the madness outside. But hey... life is made from contrasts.
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