It is in a nutshell, poor. The road out of the airport in Sofia into the interior takes one through a gypsy shantytown which isn't the most attractive first impression for the first time traveller. I haven't seen them for a while but I clearly remember the sight of animal skins being stretched out to cure on a washing line type affair a few years ago. They looked suspiciously cat-like to me. No, really. This sole confusing and unsigned exit route, contains as many deep potholes as it does roughly laid tarmac and serves as an exciting rally stage for the similarly maintained main artery across the centre of the country.
My house lies in the village of Gostilitsa, slap bang in the middle of the country, nestled close to the Northern slopes of the Stara Planina mountain range that effectively splits the country in two, North and South. It is close to the old Bulgarian capital, Veliko Tarnovo, a beautiful ancient city with plenty to recommend it to visitors, although no-one has ever heard of it. Gostilitsa has at its Southern edge, an old Roman settlement and rather than put it in my own words, I'll just rip from Wikipedia in a rare attempt to not rely on hearsay and failing memory alone.
About two kilometers south of the village are the ruins of the Romanfortress Discoduratera. Built in the second half of the 2nd century AD, it was an important commercial center. It was located on the road from Nicopolis ad Istrum to Augusta Trajana. It also served as a customs station. Its layout conforms to other Roman stations: a square with each of its corners aligned with one of the four cardinal directions. The area of the fortress was roughly 12000 square meters.
In the middle of the 3rd century AD, Discoduratera was destroyed by the Goths. It was later re-built and live there continued on until the arrival of the Slavs. During the Second Bulgarian Empire the village came to live as a convenient place to spend the night in. The name of Gostilitsa is derived from the word gosti (Bulgarian: гости), Bulgarian for guests.
Also from Wikipedia;
Gostilitsa is home to the traditional Bulgarian folklore group Gostilovski Babi (Bulgarian: Гостиловски Баби, Grandma's from Gostilitza). The group has participated in and is a winner of many folklore events including the festival in Koprivshtitsa. As part of their act they recreate many local traditions such as Laduvane, Trifon Zarezan, and Lazaruvane. Most-colorful however is the Ponuda: on Babin Day (Bulgarian: Бабин Ден, Grandma's Day), all women dress as men and walk through the village until they run into a man whom they will then lift and carry around in the air. It is said that men are afraid to go out on that day.
I haven't been around on Babin Day but it sounds fun doesn't it?
The trip to Gostilitsa from Sofia takes about two hours and is along the only decent road across the Northern half of the country. Half motorway, half single carriageway, it is of patchy quality in places but has over the years improved. I won't dwell here on a near death experience that I and a close friend had in one snow covered nightmare drive but it lingers in the memory with some clarity. Generally, it's a nice drive and you get to see some of the beauty that is comprises the Bulgarian countryside. Mountains covered with pine trees and valleys dedicated to vines and sunflowers are reminders that this is primarily an agricultural nation. But the reason for dwelling on this subject are the incongruous communist era implants in the landscape. Abandoned factories blot the scene, electrical substations and their multifarious wiry tendrils stretch endlessly across an otherwise pristine vista. Cubist Police blockhouses and the like show there was (and remains in part) little room for aesthetic niceties in socialist society. Function over form fully maximised. In some ways it's a shame. It does ruin a good countryside photo. In others, these carbuncles are as much a part of what makes Bulgaria Bulgaria, as the geography, geology, flora and fauna. A reminder of the human mixed in with the natural history. It also offers an insight into who the people are or at least where they have come from.
The final mile of the drive always makes me smile. the view over the valley over which Gostilitsa presides is stunning and to see it means I'm nearly there. A few minutes from my home abroad.
Practicality over aesthetic every time.
Veliko Tarnovo
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