Yambol Bucket Yoghurt

Yambol Bucket Yoghurt

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. 1 elastic band
2. 1 litre plastic bucket with lid
3. 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.

Yambol City Life and New Book Started

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.

My Raleigh Kalahari Finally Renovated and Now Thriving in Bulgaria

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

Brake and gears mechanisms now fitted 

Brakes cabled up and chain in place

All new cables installed and running free

Seatpost clamp lives again waiting for the saddle

Handle bars prepared for taping

Nearly there.....

The finished product after a test ride!

Christmas and New Year Celebrations in Bulgaria - Phew!

Guests Enter Here

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.

A Yambol Hairdresser Trying to Rip Off a Brit

A simple trip to a hairdresser in Yambol evokes such a conundrum of incidents since I have been living in Bulgaria. Each time there is a story to tell, this one has a funny ending or in a strange way proving that crime doesn't pay. 

There is a hairdresser I regularly go to which is run by a Turkish couple, most clients opt for he man and often wait until he is free. This is not because he is a better hairdresser, it is just that men prefer men cutting their hair in Bulgaria. Is this sexist? I find ti refreshing that there is still choice that exists. Is it any different from picking one of two men at then end of the day. If there where two women would the hairdressing business close, it is not a hairdressing saloon just a plain barber shop? Nevertheless The woman is usually always free in view of this and I use her as I'm not too fussed about whether a man or woman cuts my hear.

Every time I visit I am accompanied by Galia and the routine is exactly the same each time. this is namely to have the cut short on the left and right side as well as the back but only a little trimmed on the top. I explain this each time in Bulgarian and it is understood and implemented.

When the work is finished I hand over 4 leva and thank you to the woman. All is fine and everyone happy.. No issues, simple transaction of service for cash which incidentally is clearly advertised on the wall in the shop. I do know that because Galia is there there will be no issues anyway. Often I do wander what would happen if she wasn't present with me. Actually I have been to other local hairdressers many time on my own and there is a prejudice on many occasions, so would the same thing happen?

Today, I went to this particular hairdressers on my own for the first time since have been back here in Bulgaria in April this year. My gut feeling was it wouldn't be the same without Galia. The woman was free and a little queue waiting for the man, normal as mentioned earlier. I was invited to take the woman's chair ready for the work to begin. I explained yet again in Bulgarian what I wanted. This was understood and the work commenced.

All completed and dusted down, I rose and fetched a 10 lev noted from my wallet handing it over. The woman gingerly felt into her pouch on her apron and slowly raised up a brownish pink coloured 5 lev note. My mind was thinking is there a 1 lev coin held and hidden on the back of the note being handed to me? I looked her in the eye and it was a slightly nervy look she held on her face. With this expression and body language I knew it was a sole 5 leva note being passed over. She was trying it on, and who can blame her for trying as I imagine most would just accept that as it is the British way to just complain after they have left the scene.

Against my British cultured ways, I questioned why the cost was 5 lev and not 4 lev and also pointed and referred to the price list on the wall. She explained that she did a little extra work with my hair on the top. Now I know what she did, and it was exactly the same as all the other times I came here with Galia and was charged the normal going rate of 4 lev.

All said and done she was trying to rip me off for an extra 1 lev and the only reason this was the case that I can think of is that I was not Bulgarian. As stated before, you can't blame her, 1 lev would buy a loaf of bread and give change with it.

The Haircut

If Galia was there this would not be the case. I more than assume that most think that I am lined with money being a Brit, well that is not the case and I asked for that extra one lev to be handed over. I was expecting some form of protest or argument with that demand. She showed no hesitation in revisiting her apron pouch and drew up a shiny 1 lev coin which she handed over. There was a sense of guilt by the way it exchanged hands. Directly the 1 lev left her hand she turned away to another chore which wasn't there as if she needed a distraction to end the interaction. As I said thank you and goodbye with her back to me, there no reaction from her; and she did hear me. It felt like she had her tail between her legs as she wondered off into a small cabinet to get away from me.

Will I go there again? Of course I will because now she knows I will not be tried to be ripped off again. I'm sure she will remember me. The question is, will she lower the standard of cut in retaliation? Only time will tell. If she does, then I think I will do like so many other there and wait for the man to do the cut.

The funniest thing about this event is if she hadn't had tried to rip me off I would have probably given here a 1 lev tip in anycase.

Caffeine: Rocket Fuel For Cycling

It has been six months now since I gave up drinking coffee with caffeine and gave up tea. This was done partly because caffeine made me hyper and didn't help at all with getting sleep, something which has been an issue for quite a while in the UK. Also Galia can't drink coffee with caffeine so now it saves having to make to batches of different coffee in the coffee percolator which was inconvenient.

Fatigued After  a Hard 80 Kilometres

In the meantime, it has been a couple of seasons on my bicycle racking up literally thousands of miles on the road getting fit and losing weight. On the occasion where I ride over 100km in one session, which is quite common, fatigue and lack of concentration hits hard in the last 20 km despite loading up on home made energy snacks and drinks.So, with no caffeine in my system on the rides this is a major benefit that I have discovered to avoid hitting the wall on the end of long rides.

It all started in a village called Roza, around 12 kilometres from Yambol. I decided to stop there for a break after riding around 75 kilometres prior to arriving on the way back to Yambol. I must admit, the weather was hot and I was pushing it throughout the ride up unit that point so it was a very tired and fatigued man who sat down outside the cafe on the outskirts of Roza with a strong cup of caffeinated coffee in front of him.

I was fully aware of the benefits of taking caffeine after starving yourself from it in my previous life as a teacher to gain more concentration facility in exams. I was also fully aware of the use in sport especially cycling where caffeine is taken on the last part of the race to give an energy boost. However knowing about it is one thing, but trying it is something I had never ever done.

One Coffee in Roza

So, here was the first test of caffeine to get me over the last hill and into Yambol hopefully without a struggle with tired legs and fatigue.

Did it work? Well I was shocked, the amount of energy it gave me was amazing, honking up that last hill throughout without any fatigue in my legs and full of determined concentration. Then powering my way forcefully on the last 6 kilometres as if I hadn't done any mileage prior to this stretch. I just couldn't believe that a simple cup of coffee could have such an affect on my energy.

Thee caffeine revelation was something quite new to me, I know the exaggerated effect was due to starving myself of caffeine prior to the intake. It really can be described as rocket fuel.

So, it is my routine now to only drink take caffeine on the final leg of long bike rides, something I have done a few times now and works very well. As long as I don't do more than two 100+ km rides per week, the withdrawal  of caffeine should be enough to stimulate to the full effect.

Don't underestimate the power of caffeine, it was a revelation to find out first hand.

Pomorie Mud Lark

This weekend we decided to go the the Black Sea. We didn't decide on this plan of action until just after midday on Friday. We arrived at our newly booked apartment in a place called Pomorie by 16:00.

No time wasted as we made our way to find the site which has the therapeutic mud. Once found we went through the process of smothering ourselves with the rich black mud, letting it dry in the warm sunshine, then rinse it off in the sea. a messy process but the results are great.

Not too sure about the compounds involved in the mud, rumour has it that it was created by some volcanic activity unearthing unique minerals in the harboured area. I do know some physics though which explains why our skin felt refreshed and younger. As the mud is applied it is full of water, as the mud drys the water evaporates and the mud contracts. This contraction of mud is sealed to the skin as it drys the mud pulls on the skin giving a kind of slow motion massage. Once the mud is washed off the skin returned to it's original state now unpulled. The result? Skin that has had thousands of minute massages and of course two stages of hydration form the wet mud and the washing afterwards.

After this we lie on the beach and sunbath our aches and pains away with an occasional dip in the sea to cool down. All this with a cold Bulgarian beer at hand. What more could you ask for?

I might add, that this is something we are not accustomed to and as with all things that are held back or you are starved from becomes even more special!

We don't go to restaurants here or pay through the nose at beach shops. Everything we do is on a self catering basis which means the cost is the same as it would be back in Yambol. the only additional overheads are the petrol and the cost of the small studio apartment, but we got that dirt cheap with a last minute deal on Friday online.

We planned to return to Yambol our home on Monday, but we are enjoying ourselves so much we are looking to extend out stay for another night, but only if the price is right of course......

The UK - Still the Same Reasons Stand for Leaving

Well, having now been in the UK for a few years with a few brief trips back to our home in Yambol, each day that goes by makes it clearer and clearer why we shouldn't be here.

There are things that have happened here that would scare the living daylights out of people I know both friends and family if they knew about it. But, right now it is being kept locked up in a box which will be opened and revealed in due course when the time it right. There are things that need to be said to expose the evil that has been done by people who think they are Gods. This I might add doesn't just encompass a certain part of people, but a variety of parties not related! I have a great desire to write all about it and all the parties involved should be scared and not sleep at night from worry. This is how we felt over the last few years and continue to suffer.

Enough said for now on this and to looking ahead to the future, and the future is bright! Mainly for the reason of knowing our home is going to be in Bulgaria with no return the the UK for whatever reason, unless my children happen to want me invite me to their wedding. 

The plans are laid it is just a question of when. Galia is just as desperate as I am to get back and live the life we had before, but not in poverty as we found ourselves before. I love my work and that's the only reason that keeps me sane and the thought that the work I do is the key to life in Bulgaria eventually. All else about our life here is essentially a rat race. We have no friends other than old friends who we knew before I went to Bulgaria for the first time. There are acquantainces from work but socially; we are isolated.

I will go into how we arrived to living in a box in the centre of Edgware eventually, but we are happy in our own company without any strangers to have consideration for. The 'room' we live in is 16m2 with a bathroom 2m2 (which is the size of a cupboard). The kitchen is a sink with a microwave underneath and a fridge wedged under the draining board. There is a couple of portable camping hotplates besides the sink drainer. That's it. We have had cockroaches and mice, (the mice have just returned this week again as we live directly above a fish and chip shop which is where they come from.) There are parties in neighbouring rooms every weekend and our post get stolen froma community post box in caged letterbox in main entrance door. With no washing machine, the launderette however is only 100 metres away so that is a bonus. People stamp past our door at all hours which is something we have had to get used alongside the stifling heat in most of the spring summer and autumn with no air-conditioning, remember we live above a fish and chip shop. It has taken a long time to get used to and bare up to things, but there are people far worse than us, people who have nothing to look forward to!

More, much more to come...

Kukeri To Come In Yambol

It was a relieved man who turned up for work and found that he still had work, albeit in a reduced capacity. Bulgaria leads the way in Europe in the recession for cutting back hours and pay and this is true to form in this case. So, I have opted for reduced pay rather than reduced hours and now have to tighten the belt even further - rather that than have no work at all.

In recent weeks lots of things happen on a day to day basis, but I really haven't been in the mood for writing about it, but rather spending more time with new books on the horizon. I must admit, I get excited with the thought of having my say in book form, there is something reassuring about having a hard copy of your own writing on the bookshelf.

One thing I am looking forward is new Saturday, it is Kukeri in Yambol and will be there for the event for the first time since coming to Bulgaria in 2005. It will be a action packed and colourful day and something that is well worth attending if you are in the area. Things to come! 

Freshly Picked Peppers In December In Bulgaria

It was quite amazing as I walked out into the factory farm today at lunchtime. Still there before me were peppers ready to be picked and eaten and that was exactly what I did. From July to December (6 months) I have eaten freshly picked peppers daily for my lunch and more. The massive stocks that were picked at the height of the growing season are still in the freezer untouched for very good reason.

In Yambol there has yet to be a frost that would decimate the last remains of peppers that hang there and still grow on. This is unfounded so the Bulgarians tell me. Most of them pulled up all their old pepper producing plants and turned the earth over for winter months ago. It seems that laziness has its rewards here with my production still rolling on.

On other fronts, we have had to cancel our weekend trips to the farmhouse twice over the last three weekends as party invitation had to be taken up. And why not, there isn’t much to do on the Skalitsa farmhouse other than finish sowing the garlic and there’s no rush. The party starts at 1:00 tomorrow (Saturday) and the occasion? Well the family just fancied a party, that’s it!

Well after all we have spent the best part of a year working the land so it is about time we did a bit more socialising with the town folk during winter. It looks like whether we are in the town or village, partying is the main vocation with winter upon us, albeit a very warm one right now.

Lastly, I am still trying to get a digital camera sorted out; I never thought it would take as long as this and apologise for the lack of photographs in recent months.

Image by Martin LaBar via Flickr

Fire Hazards Not Just On The Television News

Quite often I see fires raging swamping up homes, but mainly confined to the television news. Well in this intance is was a live hands on experience and more advice to those who have holiday homes and leave them for the best part of the year unattended. The reason I am writing this is that I nearly ended up with a fire-gutted property and to be quite honest I was extremely lucky to get away with it.

It happened a few weeks ago, where one of my neighbours was burning used toilet paper in their yards and left it unattended for just five minutes. The wind picked up and blew away one of the burning tissues into the adjoining field of tinder dry hay. This caught alight easily and the wind now took hold and swept the fire onto a direct path of destruction not only to my house but others in the neighbourhood.

It was quite a few minutes before the true realisation of the potential of this trail of wind swept fire became apparent. We were sitting watching television when we could smell smoke; we assumed that someone was barbequing peppers as that was what we did earlier that morning. It wasn’t the smoke that made us aware of the ongoing fire now gathering momentum, but the crackling that could now be heard a walnut and sliva (plum) trees were caught up in the fire. This led me to make an investigation and as I walked out into the street there was a few locals gathered watching a blazing fire sweeping towards my house, no action was taken at this point as they had already rung for the fire brigade and the fire was too fierce to tackle by hand. The trouble was that the fire brigade had to come from Yambol 37 kilometres away and that was half an hour journey!

I barged into a neighbours garden and asked for help and some brooms to try and beat some of the leading fire trail down leading to my house and we were all soon armed with home made twigged brushes trying not to get too burnt as we hit the trail. There was also fire trails now leading in four different directions, all to neighbouring houses and homes, mine was the first in line.

We managed to stem the route of the fire with only 10 metres to spare where there was long overgrown dried grass in the surrounding landscape. Another tow or three minutes and the house would have gone up in flames. Our efforts now were directed to other homes in danger as the women passed buckets of water to dampen down the area that could well have re-ignited. One of my neighbours was the president of the village hunting club. He called all his members out to help as hunters came from all directions. Without this help it would have been a hopeless situation.

The fire brigade finally arrived after we had got everything under control and just spent a couple of hours dampening down the whole burnt out area and made inquiries as to how it was started, which is why I know.

There was a great sense of community satisfaction that we managed to deal with this and if it had not been for my neighbour harvesting the field next to my house for winter hay this would not now have a house there. If is happened on a weekday there wouldn’t have been anyone around and I would not have a house. If I had not reacted to the hearing the crackling of the fire when I did I would not have a house.

People beware of overgrown dried out gardens bordering your holiday home, it only takes a second for a spark to become a raging inferno, as was the case here. I consider myself to be VERY LUCKY to still have my house thanks to the help of the local community; others might not be so lucky.

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July And August In Bulgaria - Very Hot And Usually No Rain

July and August here in Bulgaria are the dry months and apart from being unseasonably flooded out early this month we are back into the trend of no rain and sweltering temperatures. This Saturday it was 42+ C! No one was outside expect grazing animals during the day; it was just watering crops early in the morning and last thing at night.

There was no water again this weekend it would have been nice to have a shower after grafting in the fields, but we were lucky that we have the well water to rely on and a ice cold shower in the heat was to say the least certainly refreshing.

We have a problem again here with our grapes. The thieving starling wait until our backs are turned and swarms of them clamber around every bunch of ripening grapes where most of them fall to the ground. This happens every year and there is nothing we can do about it. We cannot be there all the time and it is so frustrating after al the time and effort we put into looking after the vines. It could well be that there will be no wine or rakia this season with the damage they have done. I have written about this before and the Bulgarian way of dealing with it is do nothing, just be there.

The potatoes have been invaded with thousands of little orange beetles, but that is not so much of a problem as the actual buried potatoes are now full to size and just waiting to be dug out. The foliage being eaten to smithereens now doesn’t matter so I let them get on with it, in fact their doing me a favour by devouring them, less for me to transport to the tip at the top of the hill.

Watermelons and honey melons are set and just need a little extra time to 'sweeten up'. This is the first time I have grown these and I am very excited at the prospect, although Galia is quite keen to try them, but she can’t see what the fuss it all about when she can buy one for a couple of leva that is just as good or better in the bazaar and not get her hands dirty!

We get strawberries every week now albeit smaller with only watering once a week, but they’re sweet enough. The pumpkins have taken off and their massive umbrella leave spread out and suppress weeds that now get no light. They are such a low maintenance crop to grow once the roots settle in. We have created a small reservoir by the base of the source root and fill it up before we go back to town it last five days quite well now.

The proudest crop this year in the Skalitsa village farm is the sweet corn. Again, before this year I had failure after failure, but I’ve got it right this year albeit on a much smaller scale. Next year I will more than double the crop. Once again the foliage once grown suppresses weeds and they look after themselves if doused with water once a week.

Galia isn’t with me this weekend and stayed in Yambol as she has gone down with the flu, she was much better by Sunday when I got back to Yambol. We wanted to go to the Black Sea this weekend for a little break, but the apartment we found that had a great offer on was fully booked, everything else was too expensive so w have to wait for another deal probably not until September now.

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!