An open letter to the town of Plovdiv

Dear Plovdiv,

You had such potential. Lonely Planet argued that you were perhaps the most enjoyable town in Bulgaria. Your old quarter seemed full of churches, museums, a mosque, and ruins--perfect for the first stop of our trip. Granted, we did arrive at your doorstep at 6am, but that was due to ridiculously fast lines at the border, not our own planning. Thank you for the train station, where we killed time for 2 hours before striking out to see your sights, that was much appreciated.
However, I must say I'm disappointed in you. I can understand the churches being closed during Mass, but locked up immediately after Mass? There are tourist shop windows inside all three churches we attempted to visit, so clearly you accept that tourists visit these places and are used to them coming to the extent that you have various religious tchotchkes available for purchase inside the churches. To lock them up so we can't actually see them is a bit cruel. Same with the mosque--I know once we crossed the border, we switched out major religions, and Muslims are no longer the majority, but you have the oldest mosque in the Balkans right in your downtown, and you keep that locked as well? We were 0-4 for religious building viewings in your town.
And then there are the museums. Not a single one open? The Old Town is pretty much entirely museums, we couldn't even get into the ones that weren't on our itinerary. I know there are fewer visitors in the winter, but most of them had winter hours posted, and were clearly not open during those hours. And you'd think if they're closed for the New Years holiday someone would have the decency to put up a sign, even in Bulgarian. Apparently not. Even the wine museum was closed. It was like negative 10 degrees out, we were really looking forward to that museum and its wine tasting. But no, we had to trudge back to the train station, to board a train to Sofia before noon, when we'd planned on spending the entire day seeing the charms of Plovdiv, freezing and wholly disenfranchised by this allegedly-endearing town.
Your one saving grace, Plovdiv, was your Roman ruins: they were outside and open-air, and thus could not be closed. It was, however, cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey, so even that, and wandering through your array of modern statues downtown, was not so pleasant and really rather hurried.
Now, I can see the potential, Plovdiv. Had all the museums been open, and the churches and mosques been unlocked, and more of your fine retail and dining establishments been open before we left (I'm as big a fan of a lie-in as anybody, but shops and cafes are normally open before noon, no?), and especially had it been about 30C warmer, you may have been an adorable little town. But it's painfully apparent that winter is just not your forte. At all.
Hugs,
R and Kel



We did make it to Sofia, and are figuring out where our hostel is before heading out for some fantastic-sounding Bulgarian food. We may never take a train again though, after this 4-year-old across the aisle screamed for the entire 2.5 hour ride from Plovdiv to Sofia. We also may never have children. Jury's still out.

Frustrations with individual cities aside, Bulgaria is a great country so far. The Cyrillic alphabet is taking a little getting used to, but we're getting it down slowly but surely, and can say 'yes,' 'no,' 'where is,' and '2 student tickets please' so far, so pretty much we're set. We had breakfast at a great cafe in Plovdiv that had a featured beverage that was half Coca Cola, half coffee. Clearly these are my people, I've been drinking Diet Coke and coffee mixes since high school. The border crossing was decently straightforward, as we were the only non-Turks, non-Bulgarians on the bus. Last night in Istanbul, we got in with enough time to hie to my favorite restaurant, Bodrum Manti, for dinner before heading to buy tickets and get to the bus station. At the bus station in Istanbul, we had some time to kill, so we followed some signs Kel saw to what may be the world's sketchiest Internet cafe. It was in this sub-basement level of the bus station, in this maze of shops and commerce businesses that clearly had been abandoned for quite some time. It looked like the set of a horror movie, and it smelled like one too. When we got back to the main level, we saw a huge, clean, non-sketchy internet cafe literally right in front of our noses, that we somehow had missed entirely in our singleminded determination to choose the least legit business in the entire Istanbul bus station (a difficult task, as those who've spent time there are well aware). So much for an auspicious start to the trip...

Hope you all are doing great!
Happy New Year,
-R