The Lada Car Keeps Going In Bulgaria

The funny thing about our Lada is that although it is 19 years old, rough around the edges and seemingly falling apart at the seams it get us from A to B. There have been many stories attached to this particular Lada and it will remain with me for the rest of its life, as I can’t sell it due to it being in my company name. It needs both managers’ consent for this to happen and my business partner is nowhere to be found in the UK so I am stuck with it.

Originally my plan was not to have a car in Bulgaria, I had a donkey and cart and that’s all I needed when I first came here living in the village. But then work called and work was only in Yambol 35 kilometres away. I struggled using the bus services spenting five hours getting there and back and only two hours actually working. It wasn’t practical, so I bought a car and a Lada was the only type of car I could afford bar a Trabant.

Work dried up and I was left with the Lada, like I said I couldn’t sell it. Then Galia came along living in Yambol and the travelling backward and forwards 70 kilometres each week from village to town just carried on. The Lada has never let us down, even on airport trips for guests and family coming over to Sofia and Burgas airports 300 and 130 kilometres away respectively.

Each year that goes by the car gets rougher and the ride a bit bumpier, I haven’t enough fingers and toes to count the little problems that the Lada with things not working. The Lada still moves forward and backwards and stops and that’s what a car is primarily for.

We are now in the habit of taxiing our neighbours backwards an forwards to the village each weekend as they work in the town and retreat to the village as we do. We don’t’ accept any money, but are forced (without too much resistance I might add) to accept fresh food from their parents smallholding where they stay so we are basically catered for when getting back to town with our own produce to add.

The car is also borrowed to our neighbours, they used it recently to attend year anniversary of the death of a relation in a neighbouring village 6 kilometres away. I am more than happy to do this even though I know the driver has impaired vision and a sense of coordination and direction more than suspect. The car puts up with this with ease. That's what rough verges are for on the road, to tell you that you are off course my neighbour tells me.

One might feel that I have some sentiment for the car, but to the contrary. I still have a mild hate for all cars and it if I could get rid of this one I would, but there are hold ups. Firstly the administrative hold up in selling it and secondly a Galia, who I think just puts up with the indignence of being seen in public boarding a Lada in town, she wants a Mercedes in its place. Well she knows my thoughts on that as I said I’d compromise by getting another donkey and calling it Mercedes!