It was a case of fully intending to keep fit, maintain a healthy diet and live beyond the date of receipt of my UK state pension at the age of 66 when returning to Bulgaria. However, this year has been a catalogue of pain and discomfort and I think I know why.
Typical Healthy Food on the Dinner Table
With all good intentions, the regime created of being very active on the fitness front would seem a good idea and touches on all the good buttons to a healthy and life of longevity. On top of this, a wonderfully healthy diet of many vegetarian and fish dishes with the occasional treat of meat with very little fat content would weigh up compliment fitness to a tee.
Well, the results haven't gone to plan and it has taken nearly 18 months to find out why. Let's start from the beginning....
Whilst in the UK I remained pretty fit, despite getting knocked off my bicycle and lying dormant for six months during that time. Once in Bulgaria in April 2017 it was a Summer of bike riding and jogging throughout the long summer, all was fine up until that point. Then late Autumn and cold and wet weather saw bike riding taking a rest and Galia and I signed up for a month with a gymnasium. That's was the start of most of the problems that followed.
Galia was fine, she took up as a trainer and went with the advice given. Of course, this was the sensible thing to do, but you guessed it, not for me. Straight in with 2 hours sessions on the treadmill machine and cycle turbo trainer, then more with weights work on the upper body. This was done on a daily basis five times a week. No pain, no gain was the thought throughout the duration of the sessions. To be quite honest I was completed knackered and found it a real struggle to walk the kilometre back home.
Home weight-lifting
When will I realise I am no spring chicken; mentally I am, physically obviously not. Even now the repercussions of those 'kill yourself' gymnasium session still affect me. Will this stop me thinking I am invincible? Probably not as I not have planned a 2-mile swim event in September in London and have a strict daily weight lifting and fitness regime set up in our apartment. Funny how I put up with pain from endurance but cannot stand the pain from injuries.
And Galia? She just thinks I'm crazy hurting myself and wasting energy with this strange compassion. She says it certainly isn't the Bulgarian way of things. I agree, but I can't help myself.
Yoghurt one of the foods that you cannot
live without, especially here in Bulgaria. Bulgarian is famed for being the
only country in the world where the bacteria can be found to culture yoghurt.
Homemade yoghurt production has been
going on ever since I moved here in 2005. The result have always been very good
to excellent whilst experimenting with various methods.
My methods had gone through various
stages using unpasteurised village milk in Skalitsa from farmers and in Yambol
City centre where milk can be bought from vending machines filled with local
village imported milk topped up each day. This meant I had to put it through
the heat treatment by boiling the milk and cooling before it could be used. It
may be slightly cheaper to buy but the gross amount of time waiting whilst
boiling and cooling down kept nagging me along with the cost of heating and
then seeing that energy run away whilst cooling was annoying and the waste of
energy (and money at the end of the day) didn’t feel right. There was the
consideration to not put it through the heat treatment and I did try this once
although with a history and culture of good hygiene the risks were too great to
take chances with potential harmful bacteria.
During the time of experimenting, it
wasn’t only cow milk that was used. Sheep and goat milk were conjured up in the
process, but it was only me that like this variant of yoghurt. Galia couldn’t
cope with the overpowering smell and pungent tastes of these smaller mammals’
yoghurt.
After all this time I have come up with
an ideal method to make yogurt that give perfect results each time and uses the
minimum of tools, is extremely economical, eco-friendly and takes up a minimal
amount of time and work. Also you have a choice of what type of yoghurt you
prefer, whether a low fat content or full bodied creamy textured yoghurt
depending on the type of milk you choose.
I call it the bucket yoghurt as it is
made in a plastic container (small bucket) that original was designed to hold 1
Kg of yoghurt. Yes I did buy this from a shop in Elena with some deliciously
rich locally homemade yoghurt in, but now the bucket is again firmly into
another homemade yoghurt production line here in Yambol.
My favourite textured yoghurt come from
milk that has a 3% fat content which gives a good sound textured finish with
lots of taste. Funny enough experimenting with milk that has different fat
content felt a bit like the routine Goldilocks had tasting the three porridges
on tree bears table. Likewise, I’ve tried 0.5%, (too thin and watery) 1.5%
(okay, but not fully bodied enough) and 3% (lovely slightly creamy and perfect
for everyday use). I also tried the 6% fat content milk, but couldn’t live with
the thought that the lovely creamy rich texture wouldn’t serve our health much
good. Although perfect for special occasions and guests.
Tools needed are so simple.
1 elastic band
1 litre plastic bucket with lid
1 tea towel, bath towels, jumpers and
coats or indeed any material to insulate 1 Tablespoon to mix
That’s it!
Ingredients to make bucket yoghurt is
simple.
Yoghurt Left Over From Previous Batch
The last couple of tablespoons of
yoghurt left in the 1 litre bucket from the previous batch of yoghurt. (Or from a fresh live yoghurt from the shop if doing this for the first time.)
1 litre bottled/carton of UHT milk
The method is just as simple.
Around 5 Minutes in Microwave
Put the milk in a microwave oven on full
for five minutes or until the milk is slightly warmer that blood temperature
(40 C). Add the milk to the bucket with the last remains of the previous
yoghurt and mix well with a spoon.
Place the bucket on a towel and cover with a
tea towel tying the elastic band to the top is tight and doesn’t sink into the
yoghurt. (The plastic lid is not used as it would cause condensation and
subsequently drip into the yoghurt; we want a water free yoghurt with the
evaporation of any condensation being absorbed by the tea towel cover.) Cover
with many extra layer of materials collected and leave for 8 hours or
overnight.
Bucket Yoghurt Under Covers
The Finished Product
Remove all the insulation material, the
elastic band and tea towel and leave the bucket with the fresh yoghurt to stand
without the lid on to reach room temperature then place in the fridge now with
the lid now on and it is ready to use after an hour.
My yoghurt keeps for up to 10 days in
the fridge, but rarely lasts that long. But don’t forget not to use all the
yoghurt and keep a little back to be used for the next batch.
Well it has been nearly two years since moving into our apartment in Yambol and things have settled down well. Galia is due to start work this month and I have a set routine of various fitness programmes, piano playing based around housework and preparing evening dinner for Galia every evening.
A Yambol Apartment Block
Life here is very different from the village life which was experience when first arriving in Bulgaria in 2005. The contrast of so many things rawly stand out in the City of Yambol. Some good some bad, but to many here, especially the older ex-village folk. City living in an apartment is a luxury compared to the never ending work laden village life they left behind. Rural life living off the land has always had an idealistic picture in the minds of many who haven't experienced it. In reality, in the midst of poverty it is no fun and a hard labour needed just to survive is how is for thousands still in those folds.
It is still question of survival in the City of Yambol where I see many Bulgarian folk, (not just Gypsies) begging for money for a loaf of bread. In the rural areas there is food, in the City there is also food but you have to buy it!
Cycling in Yambol's City Park
There are many things I have noticed with City life. Having said City life I guess many would think of the grand cosmopolitan Cities such and London, Paris, New York etc. That's the thought I have when someone says they live in a City. Yambol is a City but probably one of the smallest I know of more equivalent for small town, but with the accolade of the bigger title.
Yambol City Centre and the Cultural Museum
Having written about village life in a book published called Simple Treasures in Bulgaria back in 2008 I now turn my attentions to current times of 2019 with my new chapter of living in Yambol and a home in one of the many concrete panel built apartment blocks. Many aspect which probably expatriate would never get a chance to experience as it certainly would be the choice of living here when village life appeals to most.
So, coincidently with the New Year just arriving, I have started writing a new book based on what I see, hear and experience here living near the City Centre in an apartment. (No, it wasn't intended a as New Year resolution.)
As mentioned, Galia is due to start work. That was the trigger with the thought of more time on my own and dominoes into using that time start writing again. During the current winter and early spring months when inclement weather tells you to stay indoors is also and ideal time to start.
When we were in the UK Galia's favourite beer was John Smiths. Made in Tadcaster and comes in a green can, there is more reason than you think to why it is here favourite beer in the UK. If you know Bulgarian mentality then you will know it is because it is one of thee cheapest beers off the supermarket shelf. Also the cheapest usually in pubs, not that we went to pubs when we were in the UK due to cost.
So we are back in Bulgaria and have been for the last 18 months and we had searched high and low for John Smiths beer locally with no success. We did however discover that there was a place in Sunny Beach called the John Smiths Pub which obviously serves this beer on site. It was meade a mental note of and I planned when we ventured near Sunny Beach we would buy some John Smiths cans and take back to Yambol as a treat for Galia.
It came to pass that we took a 6 day break in Pomorie on the Black Sea Coast some 20 Km from Sunny Beach. On this trip I took my bicycle as I planned to ride in the mornings before we did Black Sea things such as cover ourselves with the therapeutic black mud as such. Unbeknown to Galia I planned a bike ride to Sunny Beach to visit the John Smiths Pub load up my panniers with four cans and return as surprise for her.
The morning arrived as I checked the bike for roadworthiness as always before embarking on such trips. Sporting just a vest, shorts and sandals the trip began. Checking on Google for a route that avoids main roads, there wasn't one! The only route was on the major A road that runs up and down the coast. not too happy about that but I was on a mission to please.
Needless to say the route was hell speeding vehicles that left me wobbling in their wake on hundreds of occasions. Not their fault I might add as this was a dual carriageway designed for speed not for cyclists more the shame. I do wonder whether provisions should be made for cyclists on main routes, but in view of the number of cyclists who would use these provisions wouldn't make sense for many reasons I won't go into details right now, but catering for the odd English eccentric is one of those reasons in Bulgaria.
Arriving at Sunny Beach couldn't come too soon as I stopped at the concrete jungle amidst holiday makers wandering around as if they are lost. I found that I arrived at the wrong end of Sunny Beach and the John Smith's Pub was actually nearer to Nessebar than Sunny Beach. It was another 3 kilometers before the location was found. I really don't know what the attraction is at Sunny Beach from my perspective, it is a dive with no atmosphere or for that matter Bulgarian culture. It would suit many who just want a beach, hotel and loud surrounds nothing wrong with that, but it isn't Bulgaria!
I found the John Smith's Pub and parked my bike up and walked in. there were English families there seated and being served by an English speaking waiter. I waited patiently at the bar for some attention which arrived after a few minutes. Speaking English to a Bulgarian doesn't come naturally after so long under the Bulgarian tongue but I endeared asking for two cans of John Smith's Beer to takeaway. They arrived on the bar ice cold and I asked how much they wanted. 14 leva was the price, 7 leva for each 500 ml can. I couldn't believe it! I as willing to pay over the odds as it was a tourist place, but 7 leva for one can!? I only had 10 leva on me and apologised for this and purchased only one can. I was buggered if I was to come all this way and go back to Galia with nothing, (although she wouldn't mind considering the price!)
It immediate decision never to come to this place again as I thanked the staff and bid them farewell and they totally ignored my compliments and farewell. I could see they were only interested in the foolishness of other English paying stupid money for English exported goods in a place that might as well be England! Looking at the menus as I left it was all English breakfasts and roast meals all at ridiculous prices. I won't comment any more on this as I have my own opinions on this that differ and upset others from the UK.
Back on the bike with relief and my return journey to Pomorie. As I arrived to Nessebar after just 2 kilometres I knew I had to face that A road again as I swore never to ride this route again. It was a faster pace back with a slight tailwind and it wasn't too long before I arrived back at the hotel with a can of John Smith's beer for Galia.
Was it worth it? Well just for the experience of cycling along the Black Sea Coast, seegin Sunny Beach and then deciding never to do this again yes. Also, Galia got her favourite beer and I felt a bit like the man on the old advert get a box of Black Magic chocolates for his woman whilst risking his life with the endeavours.
And finally to add to the act. We visited the big cash and carry store Metro on the way back home to Yambol and found John Smiths on sale there for 2 leva per can. Never knew it was being sold there as on previous visits we never saw it there. So, 7 leva for one can in Sunny Beach can go begging now with this new source known. Galia of course was the happiest in this event and me happy with that.
It has taken a few months, but at long last the project has been completed. My 25 year old Raleigh Kalahari bicycle which started its long journey in Huddersfield now resided actively in Yambol. For me it is the arrival of a long lost friend where we both now will head toward the sunset of life in retirement together.
One of the main reasons it has taken so long to renovate was a logistic problem. 90% of the spare parts that needed replacing came from China. Being on a very modest pension here we have to be very prudent as most Bulgarians are. If there is a better deal to be had with the only drawback being the time it takes to get it, then that's the way to go. In this day and age of, 'I want it now!' especially in the UK it wasn't hard to hang on in time to save a few bob. What is the rush anyway? It is just the English mentality that has been that drummed into you to get things a.s.a.p. So in a way the waiting was purposely done in retaliation of that conformity that had been forced upon me over the years. Did I need the bike up an running straight away? No, but my mind had been trained not to think of that question, just to point things in my hand now rather than later. So who won and saved money at the same time on this occasion?
The start after stripping all the parts
Having got that off my chest, the rebuild of the bike was something I enjoyed immensely. there are many reasons behind this.
The finished rebuilt and very proud
Firstly, it was like looking after a friend, helping with love and care when in need. The bicycle helped me in the first instance by supporting my quest to give up smoking all those years ago. Effectively without the bike, I would be less healthy than I am now.
Now I'm retired means there is no need to rush anything. When stripping, cleaning and rebuilding the bicycle it was quite difficult to slow down and take my time with making sure everything was done thoroughly. Whenever I felt I was rushing I stopped, thought through as to why and started again at a snail's pace again. It takes a bit of getting used to after lifetime of rushing.
Before I began, I made sure all the tools for the job were available, those needed and not to hand were bought. I don't know how many times in the past a job is started knowing that without the proper tools, mountains out of a molehills always occur. All the tools were bought on Ebay from China at a fraction of the cost, even compared to Bulgaria prices. Some tools took two months to arrive, some didn't turn up at all and I had to reorder extending the waiting time. I purposely made time not to be an issue, besides which it is Winter here a lot of the time it was too cold to work outside in sub zero temperatures.
From start to finish the whole hands on process took around 24 hours spread over three months. this included the three coats of paint on the frame initially.
So the bicycle lives on, I have a family of three bikes now each one has a different role to play on the road. No need to search any further as they all should outlive me.
Pictures of the progress follow...............................
The forks cleaned and greased
Handlebars not original but cleaned up ready for re-use
Rear wheel sprockets dismantled an lovingly serviced
Forks and handlebars set up on frame now
Wheels added to frame looking like a bike now
Jockey wheel shining after cleaning and degreasing
Original cantilever Braked sets after a bit of care
Gear and brake sets now repaired and devoid of rust
In recent years there has been a big push for smoking to be banned in public places. Starting off in Western Europe and being forced into place in Eastern Europe in more recent years. There is meant to ban on smoking in restaurants with severe fines for both the smokers and the owner of the restaurant who are responsible for complying with the directive. But this is Bulgaria as you will find out.
Galia has accepted the fact that smoking just doesn't happen in public places now after spending a few years in the UK with that rule firmly in place. Arriving back home to Bulgaria last year she was quite prepared to accept that condition of not smoking in public place, but wasn't too happy about it. As a guest in the UK she had no problem conforming out of respect without question, but in her homeland there was a hint of frustration being forced to refrain in certain places. In the Bulgarian ice cold weather that we get here it is an uncomfortable environment she is forced into to get her habit in.
Well, I did say this was Bulgaria and things and people are different here. We were off for a four day break at a Spa Hotel and Restaurant at the foot of the Balkan Mountains which we were looking forward to immensely. The deal was for an apartment room with a balcony with breakfast and evening meal included. We had free use of the Spa facilities on site such as a sauna, turkish steam bath and jacuzzi. Added to this was use of the fitness centre which we intended to use. This is rare for us as we usually do self catering as nothing can beat the freedom of choice of food, knowing what we are eating, no problem choosing how big or small the portions are and not least the relative cost which is a fraction of the restaurant prices. the disadvantage of all inclusive meals as we realised when we got there was that we didn't have any choice of menu for breakfast or evening meal. Also the portions were skant. Also as expected we had to pay for drinks and ended up cost three to four times the amount we would have paid for self catering on drinks alone!
These facts saw us rather down on the decision as we chose this deal because of the assumption it was cheap, but the overheads and extras proved otherwise. However there was a big surprise for Galia on the first night in the restaurant.
We arrived and was seated at 18:45 and had a simple salad for starters and pork steak and chips for main course, that was it! No dessert or drink included. In between two courses Galia went outside for a cigarette, it was freezing cold, but no option apparently. The restaurant was quite empty ujp until 20:30, but then more guests arrived. After a couple of beers I noticed a guy smoking on one table, this was mentioned to Galia, we though it might be because he was police or mafia, (some say they are the same) and they would just let it go here, we ignored it. Moments later we saw another table with smoked drifting from it, surely not more mafia? Within the next hour every single table that was occupied had smokers smoking except our table. I was quite taken aback by this in view of the potential of fines for both the smokers and hotel if rumbled.
I felt quite a sense of proudness in fact that this went on, regardless of me being a non smoker in my later life. I can equate the love for smoking with food and drink and even now the urge to start up again is still there from this. If I smoked now I would embrace the freedom to smoke in the warmth of a restaurant surrounded by friends, food and fizzy drinks. As I told Galia, If knew I was to die soon I'd be smoking right now.
Better than freezing outside for a smoke
Galia now was feeling the odd one out being on the only table without an ashtray. So a request to the waiter get was was put in. It turned up moments later and we joined the smokers party. Every so often there was a fresh ashtray being replaced, old hands at this game here it seems. Galia and I were very happy with this act of a retro smoking permissible restaurant. I could however see no smoking foreigners from further west in Europe getting very angry with this invasion of smoke in their environment.
So, rules disregarded in this and many other public places and Bulgarians don't complain about it. It is only parties outside the Bulgarian culture or do-gooder politicians who kick up a fuss.
Before you read this I must point out that there is the use of a rude word, so if you feel you would be offended please stop here. (Done in all innocence I might add.)
Sometimes people say things here that shock you and in many cases I put down to maybe not understanding the gravity and intensity of the language. I must admit it also works the other way around and I say things that shock Bulgarians as sometimes I take a Bulgarian word literally and use it in completely the wrong context. This week is was the turn of Galia's Son Anton who came to visit us. Which was a prime example of misunderstandings that in this case caused some stress on both sides of the contextual language barrier. Let me explain....
Now my favourite football team is Arsenal, I have been following them for over 50 years through good and bad times. Anton knows this full well and we often argue the case of who is best - his favourite English team Liverpool or my Arsenal. Well this evening it was a semi-final League Cup match between Arsenal and Chelsea which I planned to watch live on TV that evening. By the way, the Cup is not called the League Cup but is known by a sponsor's name, but I refer to the original Cup's name as a little protest in retaliation to business over tradition.
The subject of football inevitably came up with the match this evening and Anton went on to say it going to be a 'Fuck Up for Arsenal!' This shocked me for a few reasons. Having known Anton for over 11 years there has never been an occasion where this kind of language was used. On top of this he cannot speak hardly any English. I straight away said this is very bad language to use. I went on to explain why, he obviously didn't realise how bad that those words were that made me feel very uncomfortable. He replied saying there is nothing wrong in what he said again, 'Tonight is Fuck Up for Arsenal! What's wrong with that?'
We begged to differ for a few hours on the phrase until the match was just about to begin. Anton them said again, 'Look Fuck Up for Arsenal soon!' This time I was quite angry and basically told him I didn't want to hear this again. The fact that I had a feeling Arsenal were going to win tonight fell into deep insignificance as a argument with Anton this evening after this. Anton too was getting irate with my complaints and stance on his words, he just couldn't for the life of him understand why I was so mad.
The match prelude had begun as we both eyed up the team announcements. Art this point there was shown the list of players on screen under the title of the Cup. Anton chose this moment to point to the word Cup printed on the screen and said, 'Fuck Up!' The penny suddenly dropped in my head and I thought this was very funny and bust out laughing. Anton just didn't know what was going on Have you guessed the misunderstandings as this point?
Quite clearly Anton in all his innocence had misunderstood which Cup match was being played tonight, He thought it was the F.A. Cup not the League Cup (as explained earlier). The biggest misunderstanding however was his version of the Cup. to Anton the F.A.Cup was one word namely, 'Facup'. Phonically it sounded exactly the same as 'Fuck Up!'
Mistified why I was in tears laughing, Anton took some convincing that the F. A. Cup was not one word but three, (Football Association Cup). Also I explained the fact that is wasn't the F. A. Cup we were playing for tonight but another cup, which to me made it even funnier. When he finally did understand my explanations, he didn't think it was funny at all! Guess his Bulgarian mindset on this particular event which I thought would have been a universal accepted humoured tainted event just didn't turn on.
My guess now is that when we do mention the F. A. Cup, he will continue to use his one word version, not because he thinks it is funny, probably because still he thinks he is right!
Arsenal did win that evening and are now in the Final of the League Cup, but I will certainly look back on this match and clearly remember it for other reasons.
It was a relative short lead up to Christmas in Bulgaria which really started at the beginning of December. Albeit foreign and global based companies tried desperately to influence and gate crash with advertising in November. Bulgaria has ignored and fended them off for now, but for how long? So, it was quite refreshing to have a Christmas that was in your face so to speak at Christmas time. Decorations went up in the first week of December, modest but make a statement of modern time Christmas spirit. Some people, myself included know that traditional Christmas's are a legacy from Victorian bygone age and the Father Christmas as we know him a Coca Cola designed invention as recent as 1931. Well far be it for me to dilute the celebratory atmosphere with facts of Christmas history, we proceed under the disguise of the media vision.
A Vegetarian Start to Christmas Eve
We were suddenly made aware that on Christmas Eve we were to be the hosts to Galia's son, his wife and child. With this it was three days of preparation of traditional food to be laid out on the table for that evening. In case you were not aware, Christmas Eve evening is the main time for gathering of families in Bulgaria to celebrate Christmas. The evening is spent wining and dining a non meat diet up until midnight when the meat is paraded in and tucked into. It is also at this time when presents are exchanged. When we celebrated Christmas in the village with neighbour we also had traditional party games such as the trying to bite hanging apple from the ceiling. Not this year though, just wine, dine, music and talk.
Bulgarian Music Next Year
Galia's Son, partner and Grandson
Table laid and family guests arrive, after a couple of hours, the cover was off the piano and an attempt to get everyone to singalong with Christmas carols failed totally. Apart from the melody from Oh Christmas Tree Oh Christmas tree, not of the carols were known. So I resorted to some Beatles hits such as 'Yesterday', 'Hey Jude' and 'Yellow Submarine', but everyone except me w were passively tongue tied with their lack of lyrical repertoire in English. BIG learning curve for next year where I will try and get Bulgarian Songs ready from performing with hopefully a more proactive audience. Food gradually diminished as the evening progressed, then midnight struck and the rabbit made a grand entrance. a local village bred rabbit, a not a supermarket frozen job that could put you off for life. The meat was sweet and tender and well worth the trouble and wait, Stuffed with rice that had absorbed the rabbit's juices it was real Christmas treat. After small presents exchanged and a few more drink the guest left leaving Galia's Grandson with us, which meant I was sleeping in the living room by the Christmas Tree on the sofa this Christmas night.
All done and dusted for another year the next day was traditionally a day of rest and recovery from the night before. It was a trip to the City Park to see a fantastic display and sound of Bulgarian traditional dance an music respectively. Transfixed on the event for over two hours amongst literally thousands of locals. However there was a annoyance from locals I spoke to about Christmas and New Year celebrations. It was more than noticeable that Gypsies attended these Christmas celebrations in many areas of the town they far outnumbered the Bulgarian. They do not have Christmas in their religious calendar coming from their Islam faith so why do they all gather in a Christian celebrations. Well the answer I got in the main was for money. Asking and begging for money is more fruitful at Christmas with Christians being charitable. There is also a lot of pickpocketing and other sneaky criminal elements that are practiced to a mainly unsuspecting public. I was warned not to attend the New Year City Centre event as even more Gypsies were looking for opportunities to steal. I had other plans for New Year anyway, but took note on the advice seriously. All said and done, I loved the music and dance a true heart warming Bulgarian event.
In between Xmas and New Year we entertain a long term friend who used to be my good neighbour in Skalitsa. It's funny how many times coincidence hits home. She is now my neighbour in Yambol in fact living even closer to use than before unbeknown until we moved over here again. We entertained her playing board games and talking about old times in the village.
A few days later we were at her apartment seeing her son who had now married with a son. I hadn't seen him for many years since he moved to Burgas many years ago. It was a wonderful treat to rekindle our friendship that was cemented in Skalitsa and now plan to see him in the Summer in Burgas.
So, just the New Year to get through now and the plan was made to play host our closest neighbours. We had recently been guests in their home so it was quite fitting to invite them. The food definitely wasn't vegetarian as I had barbecued kebapche, kufta, pork steaks and a few Bulgarian sausages beforehand.
All prepared and ready to receive our guests and they duly turned up and we had a ball with music and dance all evening. Some 5 year old homemade rakia was brought as a gift and naturally led to talk of rakia making with tips and wrinkles which went on for ages.
New Year Guests
The evening went far too quickly with midnight rushing towards us. Our plan was to venture outside and celebrate the twelve chimes into the New Year with other locals. this didn't go to plan as directly the New Year arrived it was like Beirut outside with bombs being set of at random, being thrown out of tall apartment block buildings and rockets being fired sidewards in the street. It was darn dangerous out there so we watched and celebrated with some sparkling wine in the relatively safe confines of our balcony. I have to admit that this was the noisiest New Year celebration I have every experienced anywhere. Unforgettable in terms of inhibition of actions going against all advised regulations ensuring safety of fireworks. The local hospital must be on red alert on such occasions with casualties from burns. The evening went on with more dancing, more food and drink and a special banitsa made with fortunes to be told in each piece taken. Mine was 'Marriage' and Galia's 'Good Health'. Of course I don't believe a word of it, but good fun.
Yambol's Cemetery
The next day was a trip to the cemetery to pay our respects to Galia's mother who died on 1st January five years ago. So quite s sobering start to the New Year. I was a glorious sunny and warm day and refreshing to see so many shops closed as there is no such thing as New Year Sales in Yambol. The party goes on with name day celebrations and party invites from other neighbours coming up the following weekend. As always in Bulgaria, any excuse to party and socialise. Since coming back home to Bulgaria it feels like I have been freed from what felt like a jail sentence in the UK with all work and no play.
