tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57015596960646001022024-02-08T17:01:17.984+01:00Balkans Wind / En los dominios del Vitosha4 meses explorando Sofía, Bulgaria y la península de los Balcanes / 4 months exploring Sofia, Bulgaria and the Balkan peninsulaMarcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-75171142556627671652011-09-27T01:36:00.000+02:002011-09-27T01:36:03.739+02:00Saying goodbye to Bulgaria... Exams, snowboarding, parties and food! Days 119-121<i><b>Days 119-121:</b></i><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span lang="EN-US">On Friday
the 17th of December, we had our final English exam, with an oral and a written
part. It was long but we all passed, the title we received is an equivalent of
B2 level (upper-intermediate). It wasn't bad, but the funniest part came after the exam, when
we gave a present to our dear teacher <b>Katie</b> (fabulous educator, I wish all of our Spanish
teachers were so good and passionate…). After that, we went to a nearby Ugo (pizzeria) to have
lunch all the class together. It was our farewell with all this great guys.
That night, with 10 grades below zero, we went to Bizarro club with Adri,
Josemi, Sofia and Des. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jRpPXVOdhQQ/ToEEq88WkOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/8N-iYn3fUrI/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jRpPXVOdhQQ/ToEEq88WkOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/8N-iYn3fUrI/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcos, Monroy, Rosi, Mila, Adri.</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On Saturday, Adri, Monroy and me met with <b>Rosi</b> and<b> Mila</b> to go to <b>Borovets</b>, all
together in Rosi’s car. She drives fast. Really fast. And road conditions were
not the best (ice, snow…), so the trip wasn’t precisely boring. At around 11 AM we
arrived there and rented the snowboards and boots. Both things, plus 1-day
forfeit for the incredible price of… 16 € per person! The price was really low
because it was the official opening day for the new season. But in the negative side,
half of the tracks were closed and only a few greens and reds were available.
We started with the (too) easy green tracks to warm up. But soon we felt that
was not enough for us, so we took the lift to the highest station of Borovets. The
views from there were fantastic, nevertheless the wind was furious and the
temperature too cold, so the snow were really hard and icy. –<i>Ok, who goes
first??</i> ... </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XB6fOWQ03ik/ToEFTbWyOvI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/MNNAh5n1FSE/s1600/167346_1801775406593_1306075964_32068098_1413022_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XB6fOWQ03ik/ToEFTbWyOvI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/MNNAh5n1FSE/s640/167346_1801775406593_1306075964_32068098_1413022_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monroy, in Borovets</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We did
several times the longest red track, with enormous problems avoiding the rest
of experienced snowboarders who were overtaking us for both sides. The ride was as
hard as the fucking snow below us, we fell off the board many times, our asses
could ratify it. It was my fifth or sixth time snowboarding, and was the
toughest one. At the end of the session, Rossi and Mila were waiting for us to
drink that typical bloody hot wine, not bad, not bad… The way back home was
even more terrific than the outward journey... The ice and snow mixed with the
darkness and speed, yeah, Rositza for F1!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-keyeI8OSRjE/ToEEHu1Id-I/AAAAAAAAAhI/jH3miR-IZf8/s1600/18122010479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-keyeI8OSRjE/ToEEHu1Id-I/AAAAAAAAAhI/jH3miR-IZf8/s640/18122010479.jpg" width="640" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our collection in Pacas and Monroy's place, simply ridiculous!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This party was also ridiculous!!! :)</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JnIVnn6wgc0/ToEBwb4tgfI/AAAAAAAAAhA/pOMW6VxNFWw/s1600/Foto1432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JnIVnn6wgc0/ToEBwb4tgfI/AAAAAAAAAhA/pOMW6VxNFWw/s320/Foto1432.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><b>Ronnie</b> was
waiting for us at 9 that night, for our farewell party. We took a big pack of
beers and went to Malaga’s flat and later to Rock’n’rolla. Great party there,
that place is fucking killer! Later, when I tried to enter to my flat... shit! The door was broken (and also my hand 10 minutes later). It was around 6:30 AM and quite cold, so finally we went to sleep all together at Monroy’s flat. We went to
Pacas’ room, he was there with no signals of life, absolutely unconscious. Apparently, he had several problems arriving home…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US">“<b>Dubré</b>” (Monroy and Pacas’ landlord) came the
next morning to check the flat and we all woke up then… That night, once
recovered, I was invited by <b>Didka</b>’s mother to have dinner in their place. I was
really pleased to do it, they had been incredibly warm all this months. I felt
like at home with them, lovely people! By the way, thefood was delicious!!</span>
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<span lang="EN-US"></span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-42865447928384833202011-07-11T23:36:00.006+02:002011-07-12T02:27:35.271+02:00Last day in Istanbul, winter is waiting for us in Sofia. Days 114-118<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><i><b> Days 114-118:</b></i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galata Tower and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Horn">Golden Horn</a></td></tr>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ljAvPRGQBNs/Thtpua4Ef0I/AAAAAAAAAfU/DW9gYwpi8PQ/s1600/P1010546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ljAvPRGQBNs/Thtpua4Ef0I/AAAAAAAAAfU/DW9gYwpi8PQ/s200/P1010546.JPG" width="200" /></a><span lang="EN-US">Sunday, the 12th of December. Eyes
opened around 13:30. The room is a mess and our heads are fucking hammered. We
left the hostel a bit embarrassed, but fortunately, the staff is used to see
this things. In our last day in<b> Istanbul</b>, we visited the <b>Spice Bazaar</b> and
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%C3%BCleymaniye_Mosque"><b>Suleymaniye Mosque</b></a>, and stopped again in Galata bridge, this time to eat some
fresh mussels. The day is sunny, but really cold. After eating our last kebap,
we continued walking up to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galata_Tower"><b>Galata Tower</b></a>, and <b>Istiklal street</b> all straight
ahead, to catch the bus at Taksim Square. There were too many people for only 2
buses, so everybody went crazy when the door opened… We had to elbow our way
inside, no choice! We landed at <b>Sofia</b> airport around 9:30 pm, and the intense
trip finished. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galata bridge. Istanbul</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">But our last
days in Bulgaria were not going to be boring… On Monday, once recovered of our
Turkish trip, Sofia appeared completely white!! Absolutely covered with snow.
Great news for us, because we wanted to see (and feel) the real Bulgarian
winter before leaving. Suddenly, going to class turned into a little adventure,
with the streets full of snow and ice, and temperatures below zero. Something
new for Spanish guys… </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Communism monument in Borisova Gradina, Sofia</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">During these days we enjoyed the snow in the city. Everybody there is really used to it, but we felt like a child with new shoes. We explored in detail the big park near city centre (Borisova Gradina). It is like a forest, but with bizarre surprises inside: communism monuments, old football stadiums (CSKA Sofia), ice-skating park, deserted restaurants... We also met with some Spanish Erasmus friends to say good-bye (they were leaving) and drink some beers, and precisely then, the Bulgarian TV interviewed us in the street! We appeared in a TV programme in the public channel. </span><span lang="EN-US">That was funny... </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Last days in Bulgaria... and time running out to go to <b>Borovets</b> for some snowboarding... We started to plan it with <b>Rositza</b>. Another little events: we visited the superb <b>Laguna </b>(ice-creams and much more) with Eli and Miriam (their favourite!), and on day 15, Tuesday, was <b>Daniela'</b>s birthday (Iva's cousin), so we all met with her to have a drink. Hurry up! This experience is ending...</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Auto-gifts from Istanbul: 3 Gutis!</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><b>And here is our particular TV show... Business All the time!!!</b></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx83gePclig0Dmvtzr7CSMiEUFaVv1Kyho0BipD__kI3OEavlb0RH4dANaGcuC8WV5DvwlY7Wo15PFxt8t_zQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"></span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-78764139971633707612011-07-11T01:26:00.001+02:002011-07-11T01:46:14.499+02:00Istanbul. Turkey. Days 112-113<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Days 112-113:</b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5eUyqnO2JY0/ThozlP-eCEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/_j1mu-KP7ew/s1600/58005_1505081782717_1104445708_31073077_1266180_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5eUyqnO2JY0/ThozlP-eCEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/_j1mu-KP7ew/s320/58005_1505081782717_1104445708_31073077_1266180_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the maelstrom!! Hidden shop. Grand Bazaar</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">On <b>Friday</b>, we woke up
really late, around midday, but this wasn't a surprise after the previous
day party. After a breakfast consisting in nutella and olives, we went to the
historic centre to visit the sinister water deposit (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_Cistern">Basilica Cistern</a>),
1.400 there and still impressive. We also tried to visit Topkapi Palace, but it was
closed so we left it for the next day. And, finally, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Bazaar,_Istanbul"><b>Grand Bazaar</b></a>! Yes,
some of us were waiting anxiously for this moment … Time to walk around, go mad
with all the surrounding objects, haggle a little bit… It’s impossible to cheat
those Turkish vendors, although <b>Monroy</b> tried it hard! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Later,
again in the hostel, we played poker in our room while drinking some beers.
Finally we didn’t go out, but we promised <b>Pacas</b> to do it the next day, and do
it seriously. This man needs night-action.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBHAVwK6cp4/Tho0LPe2DsI/AAAAAAAAAe8/FDO9mrTHczs/s1600/74602_1505072262479_1104445708_31073049_407438_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBHAVwK6cp4/Tho0LPe2DsI/AAAAAAAAAe8/FDO9mrTHczs/s640/74602_1505072262479_1104445708_31073049_407438_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blue Mosque from Haghia Sophia </td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">On<b> Saturday
</b>morning, we woke up early and went to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Topkap%C4%B1_Palace"><b>Topkapi Palace</b></a>, where we spent a pair
of hours under a bothering rain. In the place we saw some interesting stuff,
many valuable treasury from Sultans' times, and outstanding artifacts like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Staff_of_Moses">The Staff of Moses</a> (yeah, with this thing he divided the Red Sea's water… ),
and Prophet Muhammad’s things like his footprint, sword or bow. The Palace is
full of History, like the city itself! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In one of the hundreds of mosques in Istanbul</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">After that,
we walked far to the Mosques heading west, the University, aqueduct… and of
course: The Grand Bazaar again! Another round of freaky shopping. Absolute
devastation of our wallets.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">In our way back to the hostel, we stopped at famous
<b>Galata Bridge</b> to have dinner in a seafood restaurant. Later we went out to a
few different clubs (and some prostitute nightclubs by mistake), with commercial
Arabic music. Our night ended in the same rock-club than Friday, and we came
back to the hostel at 6 AM, just in time to listen the Islamic pray. Monroy
still wanted more party and take a taxi to the other side of the city (he had
heard about interesting things there), but we convinced him to calm down and
go to sleep.<b> Sgt. Tellez</b> had problems finding the hostel, and he got lost in the city for a
few hours, although luckily he finally arrived. How? Nobody knows!</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"> </span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-18550691021764804682011-06-28T03:08:00.002+02:002011-07-04T23:41:55.415+02:00One decision to make and trip to Istanbul. Days 110-111<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><i><b> Days 110-111:</b></i></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><i><b>I wanted to keep the Golf and take it home!! But...</b></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Since my
time in Bulgaria was finishing (I pretended to return on Christmas), I had to
take a decision about my <b>car</b>: what to do with it? The original idea was to
return driving to <b>Spain</b>, a fantastic trip which could be took around 8-9
days, with enough time to visit many interesting spots on our way. <b>Monroy</b> was decided
to come with me, and <b>Miriam</b> maybe would join. With three people, it
would be a cheap trip, around 300-350 € per head including petrol, highway
fees, hostels and food. The idea was exciting, but the problem was what to do
with the car once in Spain. Of course, if I registered it, its price would be double than in Bulgaria (around 1.400 € in Spain, 700 € in
Bulgaria), but the problem was just that: <b>register it</b> in Spain. Its engine isn’t original, it was equipped with a more powerful one, and this could be a
problem when passing the technical revision (<b>ITV</b>) in Spain. I tried to obtain info
about it, but nobody could certify me that it wouldn’t be a big (and expensive)
problem in Spain. Too much uncertainty for such a limited economical margin... I thought about it for a few days, and
finally I decided to leave it in Bulgaria and <b>sell it</b>. It was the safest
option, the conservative and practical one, but it was really hard for me to say “good-bye” to
this wonderful car, a classic model, one of my favorites. It’s not that easy to find a well-preserved
<b>Golf 2 GTD</b> in Spain. But the decision was taken. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IMl50L07y6s/TgknniUqpPI/AAAAAAAAAec/nr-fze8czTI/s1600/Foto0307+-+copia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IMl50L07y6s/TgknniUqpPI/AAAAAAAAAec/nr-fze8czTI/s640/Foto0307+-+copia.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuck.... They no longer build cars like this</td></tr>
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<i><b>Too close to don't go there: ISTANBUL</b></i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sultan Ahmed Mosque (also known as Blue Mosque). Istanbul</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haghia Sophia Mosque</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I forced
myself to take that decision before our interesting 4-day trip to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Istanbul"><b>Istanbul</b></a>, in
order to don't think more about it. We flew to the Turkish capital at 6 AM
on Thursday 9, December. Around 70 € per person the round trip flight. We were
<b>Eli</b>, Miriam, <b>Josemi</b>, <b>Adri</b>, <b>Pacas</b>, Monroy and me. From the airport to the city
centre (<b>Taksim Square</b>) one hour by bus, and from there walking to our nice and
clean hostel (6 € per night!, <b>Aga Haman Hostel</b>). We spent our first day there visiting the huge
and impressive <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagia_Sophia">Haghia Sophia</a> </b>and <b>Blue</b> Mosques, the touristic highlights. The city is giant (population: 16 million) and its historical buildings unlimited, so it's easier to start with that two superb Mosques. The entrance to the Blue Mosque is free, but you have to pay to enter Haghia Sophia, because it works as a museum. Firstly built as a Cathedral (1.500 years ago!!!), 900 years later was transformed into a Mosque, in an amazing process which resulted with all the catholic icons covered and many other changes. I'll try to write a little more in the next entries about the city's complex history, at least its most relevant facts and events.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haghia Sophia</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">In the evening we bought some drinks to start the party
in our hostel’s room, and later go to the crowded <b>Istiklal street</b>, full of
clubs. Lots of Erasmus folks around there, we had fun. But shitty commercial music
for too long time is unbearable for me, so after a while, I decided to go to a
nearby rock club, and surprise: a rock-classics live concert!! As
amazing as unexpected, around 3 hours of live music in a quality-covers non-stop frenzy: Black Sabbath,
Led Zeppelin, Rush, AC/DC… </span>Awesome! We were there until closing time.
Meanwhile, <b>Sgt. </b><span lang="EN-US"><b>Tellez</b> was meeting intimately a Spanish girl who had met that night. This man never disappoints.
</span><br />
<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-88538711396871096712011-06-17T19:03:00.001+02:002011-06-17T19:05:59.108+02:00Rila Monastery. Days 108-109<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><i><b> Days 108-109:</b></i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of its last performances</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I had been in<b> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rila_Monastery">Rila Monastery</a></b> 2 years ago in my previous visit to this beautiful
country, and I knew it would be a nice one-day trip for my family in their
short time here. With one thousand years of history, being one of the
most important cultural and religious centres in South-East Europe. The
Monastery is a “must-see” if you come to Sofia and have the chance to travel
the hour and a half (by car) to get the place, hidden in the mountains. We
went there with the renewed Golf, which was running perfect. My family
enjoyed with the views to <b>Rila Mountains</b>, the isolated villages near the road, and
of course: the Monastery. Although the entrance to the complex is free, we paid
a expensive fee to access to the museum, which has tens of very old pieces from
medieval times.<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rafail%27s_Cross"> Rafail's cross</a>, which was made during 12 long years by a monk (until he lost his sight) is the most impressive thing.</span> <span lang="EN-US">My family tasted their first “<i>kebapche</i>” and “<i>kiufte</i>”
with “<i>lutenitza</i>” sauce, part of our basic diet here in Bulgaria. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Claudia at Happy restaurant</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">Once back
in Sofia,<b> Claudia</b> had the opportunity to visit Pacas and Monroy’s flat, and to
play with the <b>PS2</b> (what a discovery for her!). The day ended with a dinner (all
together) in the fantastic pizzeria <b>Ugo</b>. On Tuesday
morning, we walked around the city centre, where they could buy some freak
souvenirs like communist stuff, but also the Russian typical “matrioskas” and other
innocent presents. We had lunch in “<b>Happy</b>” restaurant, another good place to eat for
around 8-10 € (luxury for us, comparing it with what are we accustomed to), and
they flew back to Spain. Short time here for my family, fucking<b> air-controllers</b>!!</span></div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-9267366772031368562011-05-29T19:41:00.002+02:002011-05-29T19:48:54.929+02:00In Sofia. Days 101-107<strong>Days 101-107:</strong><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nmzN4V0CChY/TeKDGeymBSI/AAAAAAAAAdw/3Y1o0c2ESLA/s1600/71503_1442290612977_1104445708_30958951_1371301_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nmzN4V0CChY/TeKDGeymBSI/AAAAAAAAAdw/3Y1o0c2ESLA/s200/71503_1442290612977_1104445708_30958951_1371301_n.jpg" t8="true" width="150" /></a>29th November. Yeah, it was the day that <strong>Barça</strong> humbled <strong>Real Madrid</strong> (5-0). We watched it in a big pizzeria at <strong>Studenski Grad</strong> (Universitary area) with all the Erasmus friends. Dark evening for <strong>Monroy</strong>… but fortunately for him most of us were followers of the loser. Because I had drunk some beer, <strong>Miriam</strong> drove my car back to the center. It was the first time that another person (apart from me) drove it, and just then the Police stopped us beside Alexander Nevski Cathedral, and asked for all the papers. Miriam took the responsibility and talked with the policeman (or should I say sweet-talked??) until he was absolutely convinced than we were a nice Spanish students who didn’t deserve any fine for some stupid detail related with car irregularities. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CSKA Sofia - Besiktas . Hardcore supporters</td></tr>
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On Thursday, the car had another revision in which was necessary to change two or three little things… all the day spent in the clandestine garage that <a href="http://balkanswind.blogspot.com/2011/02/sofianetz-planning-romanias-trip-days.html">I`ve mentioned previously</a> in this blog. This also caused that I couldn't be on time for the match CSKA Sofia-Besiktas, and join the rest to watch it and wave Guti. But at least the car was ready to receive my family in the oncoming weekend. On Friday we had a funny dinner at Dybaka with some of our class-mates (<strong>Vencislava</strong>, <strong>Dobroslava</strong>, <strong>Svetoslav</strong>). Later we went to Rocknrolla, where we met with Miriam and Eli, and we partied and sang in the karaoke until closing time (as usually in this club). Fun-loving girls, these two!! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcos, Eli, Beatrice, Pacas, Monroy and Miriam at Rocknrolla!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She likes hot water fountains!</td></tr>
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Saturday was the day in which my parents and sisters had to flight to Sofia, but EXACTLY that day exploded the <a href="http://www.socialistworld.net/doc/4710">air traffic controllers crisis</a> in Spain, paralyzing all the air-traffic for 24 hours. At least I could recover myself to receive them with full forces on Sunday afternoon. We had dinner all together, and specially amusing was when I gave to <strong>Claudia</strong> (my 5 years-old sister) some presents (thanks Des)… she was probably what I missed the most during my time abroad. We didn’t have many time that day to see much, but at least we walked along the illuminated historic centre, and they enjoyed with it (better not to see other dark neighborhoods at night…). Next day: <strong>Rila's Monastery</strong>!</div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-33236674971948023942011-05-25T21:56:00.005+02:002011-05-26T13:27:44.823+02:00Raining days in Sofia, and crazy weekend in Plovdiv. Days 94-100<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">
<strong>Days 94-100:</strong></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The more it rains, the more we study</td></tr>
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I had come to Bulgaria 3 months ago, and this was the first week with a truly bad weather. It was raining nearly all the time, although we found time to play a football match against a Portuguese guys very skilled in the feints and fancy footwork, but without blood in the veins. We won (teaming with some Erasmus friends). </div>
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<strong>Desislava</strong>, a new friend of mine whom I met in Rocknrolla, showed me new and interesting clubs in Sofia. <strong>Black Lodge</strong> (Aleksandar Stamboliyski 34) was one of them, a nice place for heavy-metal die hard fans, very close to the city centre. </div>
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On Saturday, 27th November, we decided to go to <strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plovdiv">Plovdiv</a></strong>, which is the second biggest city in Bulgaria and it’s highway-connected with Sofia. It took one hour and half to go there. I had been there 2 years ago, but I didn’t remember so much. 15 minutes after parking the car, we met three Spanish girls (Erasmus in Veliko Tarnovo, they said) who recommended us to go directly to the <strong>Ethnographic </strong>museum. Why?? Because they were giving free <u>wine and cheese</u>!!! Yeah, it was enough to persuade us. </div>
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<strong><em><u>Wine&Rhinoceros:</u></em></strong></div>
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So we went there and asked for the free wine. In fact, it wasn’t exactly free… you had to pay 1 € to enter! That’s nice! What in the beginning was a purely touristic trip, started to transform in a alcoholic one: From the Ethnographic museum they moved (we too, of course) to other house, and later to another, and another one… In each house, different wine to taste! Meanwhile, traditional folkloric dances were displayed in front of us. We were invited to join several times, and <strong>Adri </strong>and <strong>Monroy</strong> couldn’t resist it. Between wine and wine, we made some friends (Teodoro the best), who were asking us repeatedly what we tought about the wine. –“<em>Oh yes, it’s a wonderful wine! It has a charming wooden taste mixed with aromatic grapefruits</em>!”, we joked. In fact, all the wines tasted pretty much the same for us. –“<em>Where is the coke to make a Kalimotxo??”,</em> asked Josemi. <em>–“Much better is the Spanish wine</em>!!”, claimed Monroy. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With our good friend and advisor TEODORO</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from the kitchen (scene of the incidents) at dusk</td></tr>
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Three hours later, we stopped to follow the tasting delegation, because we were starting to feel really drunk. –“<em>Fuck!! Who will drive back to Sofia now??”</em> Obviously, we had to find a place to stay during the night, we couldn’t drive in that conditions. We found a hostel (<strong><a href="http://www.hikers-hostel.org/">Hikers Hostel</a></strong>) just in the historical city centre. So nice. And they gave us an entire apartment to sleep, because the Hostel building was full. Yeah, an ENTIRE apartment for five drunk Spanish. It was still around 4 PM, but this guys wanted to continue the party until night, so they went to buy some material to drink. We spent the afternoon in that nice and new kitchen, drinking , joking and chatting. And a new friend appeared (WE DON’T KNOW FROM WHERE): <strong>Alexander</strong>, a strange and rude man who didn’t speak English or Spanish. Gestural communication. But he wanted to impress us as soon as possible, so he decided to drink half-bottle of Rum in one gulp. Perfect. We started to worry when he suddenly fell asleep… <strong>ON HIS FEET</strong>. And resting against an OPEN window (15 meters to the ground). –“<em>This man is freak as hell</em>!”. We tried to move him to a safer position, but it wasn’t easy. He was strong and heavy, and his body slipped away like jelly. Finally we sat him on a chair. We tried to reanimate him, but no effect. Absolute <strong>K.O.</strong> We had a problem there…</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QDxP6sFldz8/Td1b7x6pfbI/AAAAAAAAAdU/vuXDoYqabFM/s1600/76958_1742145275877_1306075964_31929156_3208553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QDxP6sFldz8/Td1b7x6pfbI/AAAAAAAAAdU/vuXDoYqabFM/s320/76958_1742145275877_1306075964_31929156_3208553_n.jpg" t8="true" width="240" /></a>Night came and chaos continued with Monroy and Adri out of control in the streets… But finally we returned to do something with Alexander’s corpse… We phoned the hostel reception, and one girl came and recognized Alexander. <em>–“Ah, he is!! Don’t worry, move him to his room, it’s on first floor"</em> (we were on 4th floor…). We moved that big body 3 floors down, along a NARROW stairs and with no so much coordination. It was challenging, but we finally dropped him on his bed, the man survived and problem solved. So strange, so freak, but the hostel’s girl said us not to worry, because it was not the first time that happened something similar… With Alexander in a safe place, Josemi went to a discotheque with Monroy and Adri in savage-mode… Good luck, man! <strong>Pacas</strong> stayed with me in the Hostel, and before the girl left, he had time to say to her some wonderful words, with the unique style that only Pacas have. Soooo funny…!! After promising his eternal love to the lady, we went to sleep and rest after a mad day… </div>
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On Sunday, we were very hungry early in the morning (we forgot to eat the previous day), so we went to have breakfast at the Hostel. And we DEVASTATE, like pigs to be honest. Pacas re-encountered with his shocked platonic love. It would be better not to return to this hostel. We walked (this time without wine) around the city highlights (Roman Amphitheatre, Noble houses…) in a cloudy day. A few hours later we were back in Sofia, in time to visit the OLD (founded in 1888) city <strong><a href="http://www.zoosofia.eu/">Zoo</a></strong>. It was quite interesting to see the snakes, tigers and pumas, but we also saw an elephant area without elephants, a bear area without bears and a rhinoceros area without rhinoceros. So we left the zoo a little bit confused. Anyway, the money investment had been low enough to not think so much about it (0,5 €).</div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-22869485385970016652011-05-25T03:21:00.004+02:002011-05-25T03:35:33.953+02:00In Sofia. Visit from Romania and new friends! Days 87-93<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong>Days 87-93:</strong></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soviet Army Monument. Sofia</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We also had time to teach!</td></tr>
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These days we started to go to <a href="http://www.art-hostel.com/home.html#">Art Hostel</a> regularly, the place where <strong>Adri</strong> and <strong>Josemi</strong> were collaborating with. It’s a very nice place, I have mentioned it before in this blog. They often organize cultural activities, and there are a cool atmosphere during the evenings in their cellar-pub. In this warm place we started to meet <strong>Miriam</strong> and <strong>Eli</strong> (both are also from Cantabria!), who would be very good friends weeks later. Welcome! ;)</div>
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On Thursday, 18th November, we received another Spanish visit, but this time they didn’t came from so far… <strong>Juan</strong> (a friend from Cantabria) and three Galician friends travelled by car from <strong>Timisoara</strong> (Romania) where they are studying this year. The same night they came, there was an Eramus Party on “My Mojito” club, so it was a perfect opportunity to receive them properly. All the Spanish crew there, so funny, until late. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our objective!! Vitosha !</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The man!!</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SZ4FGb3Nvg/TdxUeZVaRfI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YskihEf9ti4/s1600/19112010360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SZ4FGb3Nvg/TdxUeZVaRfI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YskihEf9ti4/s200/19112010360.jpg" t8="true" width="200" /></a>The next day they visited city highlights (cultural and gastronomic) and prepared for the trip to <strong>Vitosha</strong>’s highest point, which is named <strong>Cherni Vrah</strong> (2.290 m). I was anxious to get it, because I had been living in Sofia for 3 months and I hadn’t try it yet. So there we went Juan and the three Galicians, Pacas, Monroy and me. Miriam and Eli finally didn’t come… buhhh! We arrived to <strong>Aleko Hut</strong> after a looong way up by car, and the fact is that we thought we were almost on the top… But really not yet, because firstly we needed to walk for an hour and a half to reach Cherni Vrah summit (the second half of the way over snow). There are another Hut which gives life to the place. It was cold up there, with the fog freezing us. After a meal and a beer (we carried it to here, so it was compulsory to drink it), we started the returning. One hour later we were in the car. </div>
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That night was a very good one, partying with all these people and Miriam, Eli and <strong>Beatrice</strong> (an Italian friend). We had been ejected from <strong>Sports1</strong> (our preferred pub to watch Real Madrid matches, until that day…) in strange circumstances, so we had to move to a new place. We finished rocking hard in <strong>Rocknrolla</strong> until closing time. The next day, Juan and the Galicians left Sofia with a big hangover and some good experiences with them!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pau, Pacas, Monroy, Jon, Toni, Marcos and Juan</td></tr>
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</div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-73388078678889054012011-05-23T01:23:00.001+02:002011-05-23T01:32:03.292+02:00In Sofia. Days 80-86<div style="text-align: justify;">
<strong>Days 80-86:</strong></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bOe4IsP7Z9E/TdmQuLonBfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/cP6XlGpktqw/s1600/PB090311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><strong><img border="0" height="170" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bOe4IsP7Z9E/TdmQuLonBfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/cP6XlGpktqw/s200/PB090311.JPG" width="200" /></strong></a><strong>Saúl</strong> left Sofia to continue travelling to Belgrade, as part of his touristic-guide field-work, but <strong>Charli</strong> and<strong> Luisma</strong> were going to stay a few days more with us (until Thursday). During the mornings we continued with our classes, but we had the rest of the day free to spend time with them. On Tuesday 9, we went to the west side of <strong>Vitosha</strong> mountain, where <strong>Kopitoto </strong>TV tower is. We explored a bit around an abandoned chair lift and took some pics of the city. We also stopped at the nearly historic <strong>Boyana church</strong>, but it was being repaired and closed to public. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r9i4dL4S71Q/TdmQvS_8vVI/AAAAAAAAAcA/rH7-PF58Uag/s1600/PB090337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="366" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r9i4dL4S71Q/TdmQvS_8vVI/AAAAAAAAAcA/rH7-PF58Uag/s640/PB090337.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from west Vitosha </td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nYsi07Qfczg/TdmR0Axd0bI/AAAAAAAAAcI/kFeNyaB_dfA/s1600/PB100361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nYsi07Qfczg/TdmR0Axd0bI/AAAAAAAAAcI/kFeNyaB_dfA/s320/PB100361.JPG" width="320" /></a>On Wednesday, at last, we went to the <strong>Museum of Military History</strong>, a desired visit for weeks. Also, we met there with Milena, a <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">couchsurfer</a> who wanted to learn a little Spanish. We were delighted by the impressive outdoor collection of tanks, missiles, jet-fighters, helicopters and rest of stuff. Most of them from <strong>Cold War</strong> times, but also from I and II <strong>World Wars</strong>. But not less spectacular was inside the museum building (entrance fee only 1€), with three floors full of war History. In addition, they were chronologically arranged, starting with Prehistoric items and weapons, continuing with ancient <strong>Thracian</strong> remains, medieval armors and swords, <strong>Ottoman</strong>-times stuff… and finally all the weaponry from both World Wars, Cold War and modern times. I had been in Moscow military museum two years ago , and I can say that this one have nothing to envy the Russian one. It’s complete and fully documented. That visit led us to watch again the memorable serie “<strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Band_of_Brothers_(TV_miniseries)">Band of Brothers</a></strong>” during the next few days, although there is no direct relation!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attack Helicopter MI-24 Hind</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MAZ-543 Scud Launcher</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soviet 2K11 Krug SAM System</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anti Aircraft Complex S-75 Dvina</td></tr>
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Problems in one of my teeth’s nerve fucked me for two or three days, and increased dramatically our PES played hours. A visit to the dentist is quite cheaper than in Spain, but is still a not enjoyable thing to do. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sofia from Kopitoto (Vitosha)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putin arriving to President's Office</td></tr>
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<strong>Vladimir Putin</strong> visited Sofia on Saturday 13, and we waited –beer in hand- for his appearance in front of the <strong>President’s Office</strong>. Many official black cars, tens of bodyguards… and some people cheering him, remembering us the historic friendship between Russia and Bulgaria. That night I went with the “Malagueños” to a <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">Couchsurfing</a> meeting (they do one every 13th) where we were introduced to new people (thanks to <strong>Ronnie</strong> and the rest). This global community is absolutely fantastic, really good vibrations between people and lots of possibilities. Sofia has an active local <strong>CS</strong> group, which organizes several activities per month. This time, the event was in “<em>Memories</em>”, a pub in Kniaz Boris 66. It was perfect to practice English again, after a period full of Spanish visits. We moved later to “<em>Backstage</em>”, with an interesting Balkan music DJ. </div>
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At the end of the week, we tried (without success) to find a shooting centre. They are quite popular in Sofia, and you pay for practice shooting with different guns and rifles. There is no doubt, we were really influenced by this "military" week!!</div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-86920444379727596062011-05-22T18:17:00.004+02:002011-05-22T18:26:34.309+02:00Veliko Tarnovo. Day 79<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">
<strong>Day 79:</strong></div>
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I remember when some bulgarian told me: “<em>Trust me, you have to visit <strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsarevets">Tsarevets Fortress</a></strong>, it`s the most amazing thing you´ll see here in Bulgaria</em>”. It's maybe an exaggeration, but it's true that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veliko_Tarnovo">Veliko Tarnovo’s</a> fortress, symbol of their ancient prosperity and final resistance against the Ottoman invaders, is a “must-see”. Partially reconstructed, the stronghold was erected on a hill from where the entire surroundings are under a 360 ͦvisual control, and is also extra-protected by the river basin. </div>
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The skies continued their alliance with us, and we could enjoy a day full of sun while we walked along the medieval traces of the Bulgarian Empire. Interesting and rare pictures inside the upper church. </div>
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With that burning sun and a light hangover over us, we walked from Tsarevets to the other side of the historic centre of the sloping village. A big statue with 4 bulgarian kings (remembering the foundation of the <strong>Bulgarian Kingdom</strong>) attracted our childish attention for a while (as well as the uncommon accumulation of cute girls in this city did). </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RehckNNBJQY/Tdk0wjJoSNI/AAAAAAAAAb0/0hRVCV9Xd6Y/s1600/vuelta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="60" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RehckNNBJQY/Tdk0wjJoSNI/AAAAAAAAAb0/0hRVCV9Xd6Y/s200/vuelta.jpg" width="200" /></a>After a quite afternoon, we drove back to <strong>Sofia</strong> following the most direct way, which goes over a highway in its last kilometers. Once in the capital, we decided to give ourselves a little reward (or punishment, it depends on how you look at it) having dinner at KFC. The day ended with a Real Madrid-Atletico match in the “Malagueños” house, who are always available to this events!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Veliko Tarnovo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-10016179842183339562011-05-17T02:31:00.001+02:002011-05-17T02:34:24.050+02:00Shipka and Veliko Tarnovo. Day 78<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<strong>Day 78:</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temple of the Birth of Christ.Shipka</td></tr>
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Destination: <strong><a href="http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veliko_Tarnovo">Veliko Tarnovo</a></strong>. Shining day. Although we had met at 7:45, we finally got moving at 9:15 (Spanish punctuality). The team was quite promising: The newcomers (Charli, Luisma and Saul), The “malagueños” (Adri and Josemi), Monroy, Pacas and me. We drove heading East, with only one stop for a coffee in a isolated place. <strong>Stara Planina</strong> mountains were at our left side all along the way. Almost in Kazanlak, we took the deviation to <strong>Shipka</strong>, a historic place surrounded by mountains. There are a wonderful church there, vividly colored and quite beautiful. We found a little restaurant in the village in which we had a nice homemade lunch, accompanied by the first beers of the day. </div>
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But before leaving the place, we were REALLY intrigued about a strange construction in the top of a nearby mountain. </div>
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<em>-What’s that???</em></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sofia-Veliko via Shipka Pass</td></tr>
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<em>-“An artificial viewpoint!”,</em> said someone.</div>
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<em>-“No, a watchtower”,</em> said other.</div>
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<em>-“No, no, no, it must be a meteorological station!”,</em> replied another one. </div>
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<em>-“An UFO??, Superman?? … What the fuck?"</em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceiling: Hammer and sickle</td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GucmlxM3pBM/TdG9LVvz8YI/AAAAAAAAAbE/aIjymTOmfPQ/s1600/CIMG0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GucmlxM3pBM/TdG9LVvz8YI/AAAAAAAAAbE/aIjymTOmfPQ/s320/CIMG0627.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jELl7vtkAyk/TdG9bEdDzMI/AAAAAAAAAbM/NsQXmpfgK-o/s1600/CIMG0656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jELl7vtkAyk/TdG9bEdDzMI/AAAAAAAAAbM/NsQXmpfgK-o/s320/CIMG0656.JPG" width="320" /></a>Definitely, we had to investigate that. It was so strange, and we would have awesome views from there! But we asked some villager how to get there, and nobody knew exactly (or at least they said that). Finally we *the road back, and took a deviation which headed to the mountain. We found a hard slope upwards, and after a few kilometers, the reward! We reached the <strong>Buzludzha monument</strong>, which has a really interesting background, explained in <a href="http://nikolamihov.com/forget_your_past.html">Nikola Mihov’s webpage</a>: <em>“The House of the Bulgarian Communist Party is the largest monument in Bulgaria. It is located on mount Buzludzha (1441 m) in the Balkan Mountain. It was erected for the 90th anniversary of the Buzludzha congress, where the Bulgarian Social-Democratic Workers' Party, the predecessor of the Bulgarian Communist Party, was founded. It took military construction units almost seven years to complete the monument. Altogether more than 6000 workers and experts took part in the construction work. More than 20 leading Bulgarian artists, worked for 18 months in order to complete the interior decoration. Verses of “The International” and “The Worker’s March” were inscribed on the entrance of of the meorial. The interior used to be partly covered in marble. The staircases were decorated with red cathedral glass. In the 15 meter-high main hall of the memorial a 500 sq.m. fresco present portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin and the Bulgarian communist leader Todor Zhivkov. The dome of the structure was covered with thirty tones of cooper. Two 12m stars of ruby glass was built-in on the top of the 70m high pylon of the monument that symbolizes a waving communist flag. Buzludzha stars were made in the Soviet union, and they were three times bigger than those in Kremlin. On 10th of November 1989 Zhivkov stepped down after 35 years in power. Immediately afterwards, Politburo ordered the removal of his portrait from the memorial. In 1991 the monument, which still belonged to the ex-communist party, was ceded to the state and was abandoned, looted and left to self-destruction.” </em></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Buzludzha monument. Completely abandoned.</td></tr>
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We were there for a couple of hours, absolutely amazed by our lucky discovery. The most exciting moment came when we found a hole in the main building and we entered inside. Wow!!! It was like travelling 50 years back to the past, but with a sense of mystery and destruction really intriguing. The building was absolutely abandoned and you could enter everywhere (on your own risk). There were stairs going down to the building basement, but they were absolutely dark and we hadn’t torch to light it. Anyway, it would have been so scary!!</div>
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Once we had visited all the sinister “UFO”, we took the road and continued to the North, across <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shipka_Pass">Shipka pass</a> (1.200 m). There, in the top of another hill, it’s erected <strong>The Shipka Memorial</strong>, which remember those who died for the Liberation of Bulgaria during the Battles of Shipka Pass in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78. More stops in a small ethnographic village called <strong>Etara</strong>, and in<strong> Sokolsky Monastery. </strong></div>
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We finally arrived Veliko Tarnovo by night, and we went to <strong>Hostel Mostel</strong>, a nice hostel in the earth of the city. They gave us an (unbelievable) welcome, like heroes coming from the battle. The dinner (lentils!) was included in the price, pretty nice extra. They invited us to drink a beer in the main living-room, with SPECTACULAR friendliness. All this flattering treatment resulted to be dangerous:<strong> Adri</strong> and <strong>Monroy</strong> started to feel like in their own home and went to a supermarket to buy Vodka and Rum. A calm living room transformed progressively into a hardcore party, with Monroy half-nude and Adri destroying some furniture. The situation went out of control for the staff there, and they finally called the boss, who came and throwed us out to the basement, where we would not disturb. But incidents followed and the boss appeared again to invite us to leave the Hostel definitely, thing that happened at around 1 AM. It was crazy, I’m not proud of that, but to be honest I’ve to said that it was very funny… We continued partying in <strong>Organza Club</strong> (3 floors, very big and full of people) until 3:30 AM. Long day, too much activity!!!</div>
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</div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-27561506675034847562011-05-15T14:05:00.001+02:002011-05-15T14:05:40.925+02:00Again in Sofia.From one visit to another.Days 74-77<div style="text-align: justify;">
<strong>Days 74-77: </strong></div>
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Our visitors left Sofia on Tuesday afternoon, after had been walking around the city and knowing some of its highlights (<strong>Ivan Vazov Theatre</strong>, Santa Sofia Cathedral…). They bought lots of freaky things (soviet hats and hipflasks, a gas mask from the cold war, Kalashnikov t-shirts…) in the street market beside A. Nevski cathedral. And their last lunch was the famous <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moussaka">moussaka</a></em>, and some other Bulgarian dishes. </div>
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The next two days were quiet, studying and recovering some classes. But action backed very soon, because on Thursday night came three good friends:<strong> Charli, Luisma</strong> and <strong>Saúl</strong>. First thing we did after pick up them in the airport was go to Dybaka (yeah, it’s a routine). They enjoyed like children (and who not?). There was an Erasmus party in Club <strong>Alcohol</strong> to which we had been invited, so it was a nice opportunity for the newcomers to socialize. They took it seriously, partying until very late. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tough opponent for me!</td></tr>
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On Friday, 5th November, we had our first English Exam (level B2.1), which took us the entire morning to complete it (we passed). That afternoon we tried to play "beer-chess" in the square beside Ivan Vazov Theatre, but all the tables were busy and the only way to play was betting money with one of the elder local players. I tried it (and I lost, of course), while the rest were playing Spanish cards, game in which they feel much more powerful against bulgarian competitors... After that, it was time to plan and to prepare the car for a new trip: <strong>Veliko Tarnovo</strong>, in Bulgaria's heart! </div>
<br />Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-22935678259678797532011-05-06T02:41:00.004+02:002011-05-06T03:00:10.637+02:00Romania.From Sibiu to Sofia across Danube.Day 73<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><b> Day 73:</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">1 November
2010. We had a very long journey ahead of us, but we woke up without hurries
(around 10). We stopped a few km from Sibiu, in a shabby fast-food local (so
tasty) full of workers having a rest. That was one of the few stops in the
entire day… Ah yes, of course, another one was when the <b>Police</b> stopped Miera’s
car (the fucking ugly long Clio) and fined him for exceeding the speed limit
(120 leis – around 30 € paid at that moment). </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading South...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cf0Lu7u1opA/TcNBD1458wI/AAAAAAAAAac/rZeYLYagIW4/s1600/DSC05942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cf0Lu7u1opA/TcNBD1458wI/AAAAAAAAAac/rZeYLYagIW4/s320/DSC05942.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near Ramnicu Valcea</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">We continued following river <b>Olt</b>
in its way to the Danube through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turnu_Ro%C5%9Fu_Pass"><b>Turnu Rosu Pass</b></a>, passing <b>Ramnicu Valcea</b>, <b>Dragasani</b> and Slatina
villages. So we left Transylvania to enter the region of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallachia">Wallachia</a> again. Nothing really interesting in those villages, apart from the wonderful environment (mountains, forest, river…).<b> Craiova</b> (very ugly) was the last big
city before the frontier, but there were still lots of kilometers, so we
stopped to have lunch in a forgotten and dirty village somewhere in the middle
of nowhere… Suspicious at the beginning, but a good decision after all! We ate
some nice chicken steaks with peppers and chips for a few Leis. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Once back on the road, we drove through moors and isolated villages. That part of Romania
(south-west) was absolutely different to what we had seen before in the
country. <b>Calafat</b> is the last Romanian village before Bulgaria. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9VSmzNII1Gc/TcNBNkMqMkI/AAAAAAAAAas/FSTDKCBBZdE/s640/Foto1205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the middle of nowhere. South-west Romania</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"> –“<i>Ahh… at
last Calafat!! Uhmm… let’s go to the frontier pass</i>”, I thought. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We drove
through the village for a while, looking for any signal or indication. </span>Nothing. </div>
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-“<i>What the fuck? </i><span lang="EN-US"><i>Where is the frontier???</i>”, I started to desperate, because we hadn’t
seen any signal to <b>Bulgaria</b>. We asked two or three people
around there </span><span lang="EN-US">for the frontier</span><span lang="EN-US">, but they didn’t know. They only knew where was the port. -“<i>I don’t
need to know where is the fucking port!!</i>”, I thought. I started to suspect that
something unexpected was about to happen, we were there (in Calafat) following
<a href="http://www.viamichelin.com/"><b>ViaMichelin</b></a> instructions, but we hadn’t any other info. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hmw_MGKYtfM/TcNBE9c6GaI/AAAAAAAAAag/_QFAVleAgxg/s1600/sibiu+sofia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hmw_MGKYtfM/TcNBE9c6GaI/AAAAAAAAAag/_QFAVleAgxg/s320/sibiu+sofia.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The route. Almost 10 hours...</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">It was
getting dark and that strange village seemed to be an unpleasant place to stay
overnight (no people on the streets, no lights, no restaurants, no hotels, no
life), so we finally went to the fucking <b>port</b>. A barrier and a man in a cabin.
I stopped and tried to explain our situation. The man didn’t open his mouth, he
only looked at me, angrily. <b>Monroy </b>came to help me and the man finally gave us</span><span lang="EN-US"> (with bad manners) </span><span lang="EN-US">
some papers to fill up: “<i>Number of passengers, Number of cars…etc</i>”. Yeah, it
was clear that was possible to cross the river by ship! But
everything was so strange… no info, no signals, nobody around… At that moment I noticed that there is only ONE bridge between Bulgaria and Romania, Fuck! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It was
completely dark when we finally move the cars inside the port. There was a
police control. A bastard policeman spent like 1 hour with us, checking our
cars, our ID, papers... At least it was funny when he was checking <b>Viga</b>’s
photo, comparing it with his face. The policeman in front of Viga for 10
minutes, “scanning” Viga’s face one and another time… Viga smiling…
the situation was very freak! That man was really bored there, I think…</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We had to
pay 64 € to pass, and moved ahead to the end of the line. Several trucks were
waiting there too. That normalized the situation… we weren’t alone! Our mood had passed from worrying to funny. We (the trucks and our two cars)
got on board in a small<b> ferry</b>. I was the last one, and the back of my car was
–literally- above the water. Absolutely full! We enjoyed
a lot the trip to the other side, and got out of the car to take some photos on
the deck. Unexpectedly, we were crossing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danube"><b>The Danube</b></a> in a foggy night with our
cars. Exciting! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"> </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hIFqGXENQic/TcNBIXrQqDI/AAAAAAAAAak/u6yjmavE8Dg/s1600/Foto1211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="504" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hIFqGXENQic/TcNBIXrQqDI/AAAAAAAAAak/u6yjmavE8Dg/s640/Foto1211.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the deck. Pacas, Marcos, Miera, Moly and Viga</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">Once in
Bulgaria, the Police (AGAIN) held us for half hour. They asked us lots of
things, I suppose it’s not common to receive two Bulgarian cars full of Spanish
in that frontier at that time… We were doing a very rare thing. After all
the mess, we finally arrived to <b>Vidin</b> (where there is an interesting
fortress that we finally could NOT see). We had still 4 hours to reach <b>Sofia</b>…
and we entered into a <b>DENSE fog</b>. </span>VERY DENSE. <span lang="EN-US">We only could see 5-7 meters ahead, so we had
to slow down a lot. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oxEWqC89bp0/TcNBkR6lk0I/AAAAAAAAAaw/BNM5WuYF96A/s1600/Foto1213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oxEWqC89bp0/TcNBkR6lk0I/AAAAAAAAAaw/BNM5WuYF96A/s320/Foto1213.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golf lights didn't help so much...</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">-“<i>Bah… I’m
sure this fog will disappear soon, it’s too dense and it will not last so much</i>”,
I thought. </span>Heh!!... <span lang="EN-US">3 HOURS OF MADDENING FOG! I didn’t know that fog could expand in such a BIG extensión (around
140 km, I estimate). Fortunately,
I like challenges (and that was challenging), and I had VERY good company
inside the car (Monroy and <b>Pacas</b>), so it was funny. We improved our fog driving
skills fast, and soon we were driving at around 50-60 kmph. The trick is to maintain
an absolute concentration in the central road line, and react very quickly in the curves
or when other cars appear. The second car has a more relaxed driving; it’s as
easy as follow the red lights, so we changed the position from time to time. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It
was madness… but we finally reached the highway to Sophia, where we arrived
after 10 hours of car. Tired!! But not enough! We went to <b>Dybaka</b> to re-fill
our stomachs, and later to <b>Rockanrolla</b> to drink a beer and celebrate that finally
everything went well!! Long day… </span></div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-2898995693283183222011-05-05T17:36:00.004+02:002011-05-05T18:10:02.171+02:00Romania. Transylvania. Day 72<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><b> Day 72:</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcJ3Iph4VC8/TcLAcSs4GxI/AAAAAAAAAaI/eKzaMgbIO5M/s1600/Copia+de+Foto1153.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcJ3Iph4VC8/TcLAcSs4GxI/AAAAAAAAAaI/eKzaMgbIO5M/s640/Copia+de+Foto1153.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1rlKFyI0zg/TcK-OXShLII/AAAAAAAAAZ0/Nl1SXZ7YZXg/s1600/Foto1140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1rlKFyI0zg/TcK-OXShLII/AAAAAAAAAZ0/Nl1SXZ7YZXg/s320/Foto1140.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dracula's Castle</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I woke up
at 8:30 but once switched on the TV I realized that actually was 7:30! Yeah,
clock had been put back one hour, pretty news for lazy boys. After a few kilometers
by car, and a quick breakfast in a petrol-station, we were the first visitors
of the day at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bran_Castle"><b>Bran Castle</b></a>, <b>Dracula</b>’s home!!! Interesting place, with its particular beauty
and strategically erected in a mountain pass. But we expected a
different thing. All those legends about Dracula and the vampires… we thought
we would see something scary and bloody! In fact, we visited the whole castle (is a
museum now), with lots of things from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princess_Ileana_of_Romania"><b>Princess Ileana</b></a> (the real owner), and
saw very few mentions to the Romanian’s hero who inspired Bram Stoker to write
“Dracula”: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vlad_III_the_Impaler"><b>Vlad Tepes</b></a>, also known as “The Impaler”. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jnZzqPG6VY/TcK_a3TNi9I/AAAAAAAAAaA/AmIUHU-ms0w/s1600/DSC05907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="339" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jnZzqPG6VY/TcK_a3TNi9I/AAAAAAAAAaA/AmIUHU-ms0w/s640/DSC05907.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortified Church in Rasnov</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">Hordes of
tourists were coming when we decided to leave and drive back to the nearby
<b>Rasnov</b>. My friend Casar had recommended me to stop here and walk to the upper
village, an ancient fortified church from where we could see the entire region
in such a cloudless day. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BK-eiVVxKfE/TcK_QGZo6RI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/0lmw5F8vykI/s1600/DSC05911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BK-eiVVxKfE/TcK_QGZo6RI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/0lmw5F8vykI/s640/DSC05911.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the top of the fortified church</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBqOwJCjbVc/TcK-7T15ALI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/nW9qNRyx4hw/s1600/brasov+sibiu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="134" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBqOwJCjbVc/TcK-7T15ALI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/nW9qNRyx4hw/s200/brasov+sibiu.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our route</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-US">It was time
to take the road to the west, parallel to the <b>Carpathians</b>. We arrived to the city
of </span><b><span class="fn org">Făgăraş</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> very hungry, so we stopped in the centre and bought 2 kebabs each
one. Yeah, nice ones! We visited the fortress there, which has a museum inside
with lots of ancient objects, coins, documents, weapons... Interesting.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ejBG3wZt5J4/TcLAf5tjQRI/AAAAAAAAAaM/-UFtttYLKKY/s1600/Foto1180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="536" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ejBG3wZt5J4/TcLAf5tjQRI/AAAAAAAAAaM/-UFtttYLKKY/s640/Foto1180.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortress in Fagaras</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--2cUtNPxupU/TcLAh0LOL2I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/kosGgdcMf-0/s1600/Foto1191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--2cUtNPxupU/TcLAh0LOL2I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/kosGgdcMf-0/s200/Foto1191.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sibiu</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">The road
continues to the west, always with the magnificent presence of the mountains on
our left side. We arrived to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sibiu"><b>Sibiu</b></a>, a beautiful city with charming old houses,
streets and cathedrals. We took a walk –with a fresh beer in the hand- until
it got dark, which was the moment to look for the booked hostel. It wasn’t easy, but we finally
found it: <a href="http://www.sibiuhostel.ro/en/"><b>Flying time</b></a>!! The name is quite appropriate for this nice hostel, with its own bar and discotheque (10 € per night).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pATfsbi24Q/TcLBRR00h7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/pjcmnrceYiA/s1600/DSC05929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pATfsbi24Q/TcLBRR00h7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/pjcmnrceYiA/s640/DSC05929.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Southern Carpathians</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flying Time</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">We drank several
beers in the bar while playing chess (at a very low level), expecting some
party that night. We tried it after having dinner, but it was impossible…
everything was closed, except our discotheque! We went there for a while, but it's not
funny at all being only we and the waiter! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Tomorrow will be very, very hard. Now --> BED.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-72187451260886402122011-04-26T20:07:00.005+02:002011-04-26T20:23:20.671+02:00Romania. From Bucharest to Transylvania. Day 71<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Day 71:</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LYsUcPfgxjs/TbcEvx_SHQI/AAAAAAAAAZg/I7Tbvk61W-s/s1600/DSC05791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LYsUcPfgxjs/TbcEvx_SHQI/AAAAAAAAAZg/I7Tbvk61W-s/s640/DSC05791.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Romanian Orthodox Church</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CEC Palace, built in 1900</td></tr>
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After taking a shower by turns, we had breakfast in a bakery and took the metro to go to the historic centre. Interesting buildings there, some big museum (that we DIDN’T visit) and orthodox cathedrals in which we listened that inspiring -and quite funny- monk chants. But the most surprising thing was the HUGE <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palace_of_the_Parliament"><b>Palace of the Parliament</b></a>: the world's largest civilian administrative building, most expensive administrative building, and heaviest building. Not less surprising was to see shacks in the middle of the city, surrounded by all that big and luxurious buildings. That’s the Romania that we probably expected, not the renewed and modern that we found in most of our trip. Anyway, a big contrast.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palace of the Parliament. Bucharest</td></tr>
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Later, we took our time to get out the city (just the opposite that when we arrived) and get lost in the suburbs. We stopped at 15:00 in <b>Sinaia </b>(125 km from Bucharest) to have lunch. Lots of laughs... And after that we tried to find Sinaia’s castle, which was the reason to stop there. It’s up in the hill, hidden in the forest, like the little wonders have to be. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peles_Castle"><b>Peles Castle</b></a>, a marvelous construction with more than 100 years (and 170 rooms), was the residence of <b>King Carol I of Romania</b>. Unfortunately, we couldn’t visit the museum because we arrived later and was closed! Anyway, we all get amazed by this castle. Absolutely recommended!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX6WNlw3fRc/TbcDY0Y52zI/AAAAAAAAAZM/KG7M9A_bhTc/s1600/Foto1110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX6WNlw3fRc/TbcDY0Y52zI/AAAAAAAAAZM/KG7M9A_bhTc/s640/Foto1110.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally!! We found the castle... hidden in the forest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Nicolas Church. Brasov</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r65Qv9dGP1Y/TbcDeNMa9HI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/_MfCGpLWGmA/s1600/Foto1112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r65Qv9dGP1Y/TbcDeNMa9HI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/_MfCGpLWGmA/s200/Foto1112.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peles Castle. Sinaia</td></tr>
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Sinaia is surrounded by <b>Bucegi Mountains</b> (they are part of the <b>Southern Carpathians</b>), which are full of huge forests and nice peaks –I’ve to came here again to do some hiking!-. The road continues through this spot until it arrives to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bra%C5%9Fov"><b>Brasov</b></a>, city of the mythical <b>Transylvanian</b> region. We didn’t have so many time to see the <b>Black Church</b> and <b>San Nicolas’ Church</b>, but the city looked nice. A comfortable little hotel in the nearby village of <b>Christian</b> was our accommodation that night. 12 € per person and nice private rooms with TV, bathroom and... Jacuzzi!! Superb. We returned to Brasov centre in my car (6 on board, Monroy in the boot, someone had to sacrifice) and watched the Real Madrid match in a pub, while eating some pizza... so nice! After some beers I decided to come back to the Hotel, but the rest continued partying until late... and had problems with a cheater taxi driver when returning to the Hotel... fortunately, things didn’t become serious. </div>
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<i><b>Other pics...:</b></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rGjaKkkIRbc/TbcJQrIlDcI/AAAAAAAAAZw/7dR3aFy1GkA/s1600/Foto1093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rGjaKkkIRbc/TbcJQrIlDcI/AAAAAAAAAZw/7dR3aFy1GkA/s320/Foto1093.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other face of Bucharest city centre</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I8e-fgyWevQ/TbcBvpOaRPI/AAAAAAAAAY8/3roQ7OjORHg/s1600/30102010193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I8e-fgyWevQ/TbcBvpOaRPI/AAAAAAAAAY8/3roQ7OjORHg/s200/30102010193.jpg" width="200" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monroy sacrificing himself :D</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-APmUgBpFaos/TbcFTfG72-I/AAAAAAAAAZs/k_qvoJ9hCS8/s1600/DSC05836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-APmUgBpFaos/TbcFTfG72-I/AAAAAAAAAZs/k_qvoJ9hCS8/s320/DSC05836.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mad Mollo and the mad lion!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Jandarmería !!!</td></tr>
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<br />Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-38948498907002703062011-04-23T17:19:00.003+02:002011-04-23T17:31:19.404+02:00Romania. From Sofia to Bucharest. Day 70<br />
<b>Day 70:</b><br />
<span id="goog_1453159049"></span><span id="goog_1453159050"></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-citf5XnMJ9U/TbLry3XGroI/AAAAAAAAAYk/H4axdRgoWfQ/s1600/DSC05736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-citf5XnMJ9U/TbLry3XGroI/AAAAAAAAAYk/H4axdRgoWfQ/s200/DSC05736.JPG" width="128" /></a><span lang="EN-US">We had met at
10 in the morning, but as it was predictable, nobody had woken up at that time.
So was necessary to wait a bit more until all the people were stand up,
including myself (usually the leader of the Lazy…). Continuing with our
SICKLY PLANIFICATION of the trip, we did our bags and bought some food as we
went along. While I was going to take a rented car (a shitty long Renault Clio, in <a href="http://www.rentacarbulgaria.info/">Sara Rent</a>) for the newcomers with Iva
and Miera, Pacas was offering an AMAZING TOUR EXPRESS around Sofia city-centre
(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Nevsky_Cathedral,_Sofia">Cathedral</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_Church,_Sofia">Russian Church</a>, touristic market…) to Moly and Viga. Nearly ready,
we had lunch before depart, and did a BOTCH reparation in the VW Golf motor
(only with my hands, teethes and some rubber...McGyver is a newbie). Yeah, we were finally ready to drive!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q5dzqFaGVzc/TbLsAXEyseI/AAAAAAAAAYo/NMjY2E1YupA/s1600/DSC05726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q5dzqFaGVzc/TbLsAXEyseI/AAAAAAAAAYo/NMjY2E1YupA/s640/DSC05726.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ooouachh.... Good weather this morning in Sofia!</td></tr>
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<i><b><span lang="EN-US">ON THE ROAD: FROM SOFIA TO BUCHAREST</span></b></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Having in
mind that we had booked night in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bucharest"><b>Bucharest</b></a>, and it was 14.00 on the clock when
we started the cars to move on… ok, we wouldn’t have so many stops that day…
Fortunately, a hot sun was rising above us, and the first kilometers were over
one of the few highway stretches in all the country (from Sofia to <b>Varna</b>). It
relaxed the driving at the beginning, while crossing through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stara_Planina"><b>Stara Planina</b></a>
mountains (a loooong range from west Bulgaria to east Bulgaria). There we could
enjoy some nice views and the snow in the road verge. The traffic was quite
heavy, and from time to time, a crazy Bulgarian driver passed us with violence.
</span>Usually, a big black 4x4 BMW or Mercedes. Mafia? Yeahhh...</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGzj7eBlYBc/TbLsVCe6l1I/AAAAAAAAAYw/1sJWXz5S9SM/s1600/vciaje.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGzj7eBlYBc/TbLsVCe6l1I/AAAAAAAAAYw/1sJWXz5S9SM/s320/vciaje.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US">Once out of the highway, we found the authentic
Bulgarian roads, with its lovely BIG holes. That pavement was much more older
than my car, but anyway, we enjoyed the long west-to-east northern lands crossing.
That is an area that we rarely would have the opportunity to visit again. It
was interesting to see this forgotten Bulgaria, with isolated villages and
industrial cities in the middle of nowhere (<b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pleven">Pleven</a></b>). A bus which was
driving in “beast-mode” entertained us for a while. It passed us like a crazy
devil, and was doing the same with the rest of the cars. Overtaking from the right side
or from the left one, no matter at all!. In a straight or in a curve, who cares?
We tried to follow it as hard as we could, seeing its madness. But some passing
was impossible to replicate… it disappeared in the horizon… crazy fucking bus!! The
newcomers were very surprised after seeing that, but I think it was because they
were exactly that… <b>newcomers</b>! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Bulgaria, a few km from Pleven</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">We arrived
to the city of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruse,_Bulgaria"><b>Ruse</b></a> at night. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danube"><b>Danube</b></a> river it’s there, marking a big natural
frontier with Romania. We paid 6 € to cross the long bridge, and 3 € in
Romanian taxes. Not so expensive. In Romania the roads surprised us: perfect
pavement, wide, clean and signposted. Why is SO BIG this difference between
Bulgaria and Romania??? Maybe are true all those rumors which say that the
European funds are controlled (or strongly influenced... as you want) by the <b>Mafia</b> in Bulgaria, and they use them to
their own benefit. I can’t know exactly what the reason is, but it’s really
strange.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">One hour
later we entered to Bucharest. We simply followed the road until we were in the
middle of the city. Once there, we stopped and asked for the street of our
Hostel: “<i>It’s just there</i>”, said a young man, pointing the other side of the
street. “<i>It’s impossible to be so lucky… there are 2 million people in this
place, it’s impossible…</i>”, I thought. But yes, we had stopped just in front of our Hostel,
less than 100 meters. We, lucky bastards!!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good morning with Kamenitza!</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">We left our
things in the Hostel and went to the old city centre, surprisingly beautiful at night. We
had been recommended to go to a specific restaurant: <b>Caru Cu Bere</b>! Opened in
1879, it’s a marvelous building with impressive furniture and decoration. </span>Classic
and luxurious. <span lang="EN-US">But we weren’t
lucky this time: it was absolutely full. Finally, we found another place were
we could taste local food (mainly <b>meat</b>) and beer (<b>Ciuc, Silva</b>…). Around 10 €
per person, more expensive than Bulgaria, but still far cheaper than Spain,
considering we are just in the center. After the feast, we had some drinks in downtown
local pubs (3 € per “Cubalibre”, aprox.). Viga and some other rebel tried to
extend the night as long as our money could last, but the fact is that we
returned to the Hostel around 2.30 AM. Wise decision, because it would have
been a trench warfare with unknown consequences!</span></div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-6757421161019127612011-02-25T17:47:00.002+01:002011-02-26T04:09:33.526+01:00Sofianetz. Planning Romania's trip. Days 67-69<div style="border: medium none; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tuesday was <b>26th of October</b>, my birthday! Our class-mates knew it, and they received me with greetings. We had a very good group there, they are really nice people. Although I had lost 2 classes and our dear teacher was not so happy, she gave me an academic present: a book in English language. During part of the morning I was the center of attention, not only for the birthday, too because the Greek trip! But this is not new for us (being the center of attention), because here in the University we (the Spanish) are the “spoiled children”, and everyone treats us so kindly. Who doesn’t like it? </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My birthday. Having dinner in Dybaka!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We ate something quick after the classes and went to <b>Studenski grad</b> to play a football match with some Erasmus friends (thanks to Monroy and Pacas for the organization). After that and the subsequent beers, we organized a humble birthday dinner in my favorite place: <b>Dybaka</b>!! The 3 “Cántabros” and the 2 “Malagueños” were there, having an authentic feast. Later, Iva and Daniela gave me one present each one in the Museum Pub. That was a lovely gesture from them, although the day had some personal problems that fucked it a little. I don’t know why, but in the last few years my birthdays have been a bit bitter!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Good friends are coming from Spain on Thursday night:<b> Moly, Miera </b>and<b> Viga</b>. They will be here 4 days, and our initial plan was go to<b> Istanbul</b> (Turkey) by car. But when I looked for some info on the Internet, I discovered that things wouldn’t be that easy! Cars older than 20 years are forbidden to enter in <b>Turkey</b> (and my car has more than 20 years old… ). The second BIG problem is that we would need two cars to do the trip (we wouldn’t fit in only one car), and the rented car would need a bureaucratic permission to enter the country (the process needs around 4-5 days, and cost more than 100 € in total… ). Turkey was discarded on Wednesday night… </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mechanics thinking</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I only had <b>Thursday</b> to think about where could we go, because we wanted to do a trip from Friday to Tuesday. But that Thursday I had to go to Iva’s cousin garage, to check some things in my car. At the beginning, I only went there to an oil change, but everything got worse. We also had to change the oil filter, petrol filter, anti-freezer water and other smaller shit. There were two mechanics there, and they were surprised when noticed that the original engine (GTD, 65 hp) had been replaced (for a TDI, 90 hp). The previous owners had done several fixes to the car, in a demonstration of Italian craftwork. Another things like the 4 disc brakes or a complete covering for the engine, were not normal in that model. The mechanics told me that it was a bit strange… It seemed like the car had been stolen or something like that. But the fact was that the car worked perfectly and all the papers were in order, so I didn’t care!! Fuck, we are in Bulgaria and I have bought the car in a very strange <a href="http://balkanswind.blogspot.com/2010/08/toma-de-contacto-dia-7.html">circumstances</a>, what could I expect?? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So we had been there all the afternoon, in an illegal garage in the Sofia outskirts, at around 0ºC. And they wanted to charge me a very very low price… around 35 €. They are good people, but I paid more because I didn’t want to take advantage of their generosity (and I knew I'll have to go there more times!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Once with new blood in the car, I returned home to plan our trip in a record time. It was 9 PM and my friends were coming at 1 AM. In that time I prepared an improvised plan, going to <b>Bucharest</b> <b>(Romania!!)</b> and doing a trip around <b>Transylvanian</b>’ most famous places. It’s all <b>EU</b>, so we wouldn’t have any problems with the cars’ papers. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The garage in the outskirts</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I went to the airport at 1 AM, but nobody was there. Shit! The flight had been delayed, so I went back home, took a shower and ate something. At <b>3.15 AM</b> I returned to the airport and met with the Spanish expedition! I carried them to <b>Alexander Nevski</b> cathedral, the most impressive thing in Sofia. During the night, it’s particularly beautiful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After that, and as I had promised them, we went to Dybaka!! It was around 4 AM, and a waitress received us badly, because she thought that we were drunk or something like that! I replied offended (we are not drunk today!! haha), and another waiter came quickly, fortunately to offer us a table with good manners. I don’t know if I had mentioned that here in Sofia, young people are usually very smart and fashioned, and Spanish manners are more relaxed in this aspect (we are an example). Dybaka opens 24 h a day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">During the dinner we ate like pigs (literally), with<b> Miera</b> on-fire, throwing the meat into the beer and similar stuff. Maybe the waitress was right when she didn’t want to let us enter. At home around <b>5 AM</b>, Moly and Miera in my flat, and Viga in Monroy and Pacas’ flat. Tomorrow will be a long day!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-3146627522511471842011-02-22T01:19:00.002+01:002011-02-22T12:32:04.696+01:00Greece. Thessaloniki and return to Bulgaria. Day 66<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<b>Day 66: </b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alejandro!</td></tr>
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Our day started at 11.30, with an interesting hangover crushing us. We all were fucked –in general-, but Adri was worse. <b>Sergeant Téllez</b> was an authentic zombie. We left the hotel and went to the streets looking for some repairing meal. <b>Feta cheese</b> again. Cheap & tasty.
On Monday morning, the city is full of activity. People and cars everywhere. And 4 phantoms roaming. Of course, we wanted to do some sightseeing, so we took the car and went to the seafront. I parked in a forbidden place, but Adri (absolutely knocked) stood in the car while we were walking around there. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The White Tower</td></tr>
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<b>Thessaloniki </b>is the second Greek city after Athens, and has a long (more than 2.000 years) and complex <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thessaloniki">history</a>. Macedonians, Romans, Byzantines, Ottomans… all them ruled the city along the time. The first big thing we saw was the <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Tower_of_Thessaloniki">White Tower</a> </b>(a prison during the Ottoman period), just beside the sea. We walked for almost an hour along the seafront, and took some photos around <a href="http://www.thessaloniki-gold.com/thessaloniki-guide/thessaloniki-attractions/alexander-statue/alexander-statue.htm"><b>Alexander The Great </b></a>and his statue. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josemi in Thessaloniki's seafront</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sgt. Téllez protecting the car with bravery</td></tr>
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The day was really grey, and our heads absolutely black. Strange fruits in a nearby park captured our attention more than the historic remains of the city. Those fruits –<i>fuck! What were they??</i>- were really intriguing for 3 dummies like us. They were green and with strange smell and touch. We finally decided to use them to play baseball, and was quite funny.
Once back in the reality, we remembered that a dying Sergeant Téllez was alone in the car, and he had no way to phone us if necessary. Shit! We went back and fortunately the car was there with a body inside, and there wasn’t a paper on the windscreen. But what would have happened if the police had come? Nobody knows, but I’m sure that Sgt. Téllez would have done it right. He is a soldier, used to be in the frontline!
Later, we tried to visit other parts of the city, going there by car. The traffic was horrible and we were stucked most of the time. We only could see some old churches, interesting, but completely surrounded by new and ugly buildings! Driving around there was stressing and we couldn’t even find a place to park! Result: Way Back to Bulgaria around 2 PM. Highway direction North. We only stopped to have a coffee –beer for Ronnie- in a Greek village, the rest of the trip was calm. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes! We're spanish! But don't worry, we are not dangerous!</td></tr>
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Once in Bulgarian lands, 10 km past <b>Dupnitsa</b> the car engine suddenly stopped. What the fuck? I parked in the verge as I could. What happened?? I was afraid of it… <b>No petrol!!</b> Well, at least it wasn’t a breakdown. The car hasn’t pilot light for this matter, and I forgot to check the meter… </div>
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-<i>“Ok, ok… let’s go to do something before darkness. I’ll try to do hitchhiking and go back to Dupnitsa for some petrol</i>”, said <b>Ronnie</b>.
He tried it for a while and nobody stopped. The isolated place where we were didn’t help him. Just in case, I started to walk the way back to the village. 20 minutes and a few kilometers after, a car stopped for me. There were Ronnie and two gypsies in a very old car. They spoke some spanish because had been working in Spain, in the country. Once in the petrol-station, Ronnie said me that things like these proof that, in the end, poor people usually are the most humane. Nobody stopped except them. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not again!! :)</td></tr>
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We bought a bottle of water and filled it with petrol. A rich couple in the other side of the road was “assaulted” by us, and they -of course- had to accept us in their car. Way back to the <b>Golf </b>and Adri-Josemi. 1,5 litres of petrol and another return to the petrol-station in Dupnitsa to fill up the tank. We arrived <b>Sofia</b> around 8 PM, really tired, but happy after all! The Greek experience had been good, varied and intense! <u>Unforgettable trip! </u></div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-67045943428767454832011-02-18T00:58:00.007+01:002011-02-21T02:25:29.049+01:00Greece. Meteora and Thessaloniki. Day 65<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTdqhQrnu0U/TV0_7LHF3-I/AAAAAAAAAWs/Q1D48eWqz1E/s1600/asasad1..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTdqhQrnu0U/TV0_7LHF3-I/AAAAAAAAAWs/Q1D48eWqz1E/s200/asasad1..JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">We woke up at 9:30 in that guest house in <b>Kastraki </b>(a village beside Kalampaka), and the first thing we did was look for a place where we could eat something. Hard job on a Sunday morning. Having had a Greek breakfast (<b>Feta cheese</b>), we were ready to drive through <b>Meteora</b> huge rocks. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 climbers here...</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The day was cloudy, but that didn’t prevent us to enjoy the place. We drove up and down following the serpentine road that pass near every monastery. We visited two of them, going upstairs for a while (altough our legs didn’t like the idea). <b>Monastery of the Holy Trinity</b> was the first one, and we finished with <b>The Great Meteoron</b>, which is the biggest. It has 2 or 3 small museums, a dark church, an old kitchen, a cellar... and of course, impressive views, because it’s erected in one of the highest points. There</span><span style="font-size: small;"> were people climbing one of the enormous walls in front of us.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kalampaka is -literally- under the rocks</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Meteora monasteries were built around 12th-15th centuries, and some of them are situated more than 500 m. above the plain, on ancient rocks. This place is unique in the world. It’s hard to believe that there are a few monks still living here, but it’s true... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The day was getting better and the sun appeared for a while -maybe a gift from the Gods, whom wanted to reward us for our effort the previous day-. We climbed a prominent rock, from where we could take some nice photos. We stayed there for almost an hour enjoying the relaxing silence, only disturbed from time to time by some car horn from Kalampaka, just below us. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from a petrol-station in Kalampaka. Holy Monastery of St. Stephen on the right side.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">H.Monastery of Varlaam</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Back in the village, we ate something and started our returning trip to <b>Thessaloniki</b> (250 km), where we arrived around 21:00. The city is quite lively and busy. Hundreds of people are walking in the streets and filling up the pubs. Unlike northern countries' lifestyle (Bulgaria is an example), here we had something similar to Spanish culture. We rented a room for four in <b>Alexandria Hotel</b> (cheap, around 14 € per person). </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcos & Josemi</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Once showered, we went out to look for some party. <b>Ronnie </b>cheered on the group with some street-beers. We walked through the city centre, beer in hand. We stopped in a club called Rocanrollar (similar name to Sophia’s one), and they tried to rip off us with a crazy price for 3 beers and a whisky. After showing our deep disagreement, the club’s owner came and he “negotiated” until we were happy. So crafty.
After that, we decided to do something weird like walk to the upper side of a building under construction. Nice views over the city from there, and crazy conversation about Christmas and Cosmos! And we tought “<i>Ok, we are in bastard-spanish mode now… let’s go until the end: botellón!</i>”. We did something similar just beside a Rock-pub, with nice music like Rage Against The Machine and <b>Pearl Jam</b>. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The team. Exploring Thessaloniki!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Latin Lovers</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">A dog came with us the rest of the night, he wanted friends and we were receptive. But after a long walk, we found ourselves in the industrial harbour of the city, and (surprisingly) there was a noisy night-club in the middle of tens of warehouses. “<i>Fuck, what is this??</i>”, Ronnie was excited. The club was absolutely full of people, dancing and partying hard. Very nice. We didn’t expect that around 3 AM on Sunday to Monday. Beers cost 7 € each one. Not so nice, but we paid several, anyway. <b>Sergeant Téllez</b> (Adri) showed a good sample of Spanish talent in the disco, but unfortunately greek females were on guard that night.
Back in the hotel around 6 AM, with the army slightly injured. Our intention hadn’t been that! Thessaloniki has more party than we had expected. And Ronnie is a very encouraging comrade!! Fucking horse!!</span></div>
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<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-64376871987025870232011-02-03T03:41:00.005+01:002011-02-21T02:26:06.496+01:00Greece. Mount Olympus. Day 64<br />
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<b> Day 64:</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from the refuge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Team</td></tr>
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<b>7:30</b> We woke up and had a heavy breakfast. Surprisingly for us,
the day appeared absolutely cloudless. We had seen a positive forecast for this
<b>23 October</b>, but we didn’t expect that. In a conversation with the guard, she said
that climbing Mt. Olympus’ highest point (<b>Mytikas</b>) that day wasn’t a good idea,
because we would find so many ice in the top of the peak, which is quite steep.
We decided to climb first to <b>Skala</b> point (2.880 m), and then there we could
decide between <b>Skolio</b> (2.911 m, an easy and plain peak) or Mytikas (2.918 m).
We didn’t see our new greek friends that morning… Where were they?? </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a rest in the Greek mountains</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kakalos refuge</td></tr>
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<b>9:00</b> We
started to walk, carrying light bags. It was sunny, but cool.
Although the views over the valley were superb and we were enjoying them a lot, we
had 2 hard hours to Skala passage (2.880 m). There, a strong wind surprised us,
coming from the north face. We took a look over that isolated face, dark and
iced. Not for us… frightening! We talked about trying (or not) the climb to Mytikas.
Ronnie (especially Ronnie!), Adri and me were determined to try it, but Josemi preferred to stay there
and wait for us. A clever decision, considering that was his first time in a high mountain. The wind was cold and persistent there, but we felt encouraged
when we saw that the path (marked with red points) went through the east side of the mountain, which
were sunny and protected from the wind.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ronnie, with Mytikas behind him!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A look over the north face</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "rescue" team</td></tr>
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So we
continued moving forward carefully, this time with the help of our hands. The only people
we found on the way were some kind of mountain <b>rescue team</b>. But some of them
were very clumsy (we didn’t understand that, maybe they were training because some of them were new), and we finally overtook the group. The pass to Mytikas has some
tricky points, but it’s quite easy if there is not ice. We found two iced
zones, and we took some risk stepping on them witouth <b>crampons</b> or <b>ropes</b>… but is what we
decided. It’s always hard to decide to turn back so close from your objective.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best "path" is easy to find if you follow the red marks</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "rescuers" in one of the trickiest parts, using ropes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mytikas, top of the Olympus</td></tr>
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<b>12:00</b> Finally, at <b>Mytikas</b> peak (2.918 m). Highest point in Olympus, and by extension, Greece. Impressive views
from here. Rewarding feeling. We had a quick meal, while watching the “rescue”
team advancing toward us using ropes in the iced zones. Surprisingly, a young
<b>couple</b> appeared behind us. </div>
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<i>–“Errhh… Hello!”, I said. </i></div>
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<i>– “Ohhhh… at last!!! Hi!”,
replied the boy. </i></div>
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<i>–“From where are you coming from??” </i></div>
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<i>-“Ah, we got lost, we come
from <b>Kakalos refuge</b>. It was an awful decision to follow that route… It was hard
and risky for us. We climbed with our hands, I dunno how are we here...”.</i></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TUoSQFgdcCI/AAAAAAAAAWc/26r9bQBmANE/s1600/P1080711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TUoSQFgdcCI/AAAAAAAAAWc/26r9bQBmANE/s200/P1080711.JPG" width="200" /></a>They were quite tired, and with a <b>scary </b>expression in their
faces. I felt that they didn’t enjoy so much the climb… We started the descent
just in the moment the mountain group arrived. We were lucky, because they left
the ropes put and we (and the young couple) could use them. Easier and safer. Josemi were almost frozen when we met him.
Long way down until <b>Zolotas refuge</b>. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skolio peak, and the north face of Olympus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jump!</td></tr>
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<b>15:00</b><b> </b> We recovered energies there, eating a lot.
Ronnie showed us all his variety: <i><b>lutenitza</b></i>, bulgarian cheese, vegetables… and
<b>Rakia</b>, of course!! We ate and drank everything. The rest of the way back to the
car was never-ending for our tired legs… In fact, we had made 3.000 meters of
height difference today. We were in the car around <b>20:00</b>, after a very hard
journey. But we had work yet: 2 hours and a half drive to <b>Kalampaka</b> (<b>Meteora</b> village).
We drove to <b>Larisa</b>, later <b>Trikala</b> and finally Kalampaka. We were lucky to find
a cheap hotel (12 € each one, in a 4 people room) one hour before midnight. We
had<i> crepes </i>for dinner, and was funny when we had to decide who of us would
sleep together (one of the beds was double). Piedra, papel y tijera, and Josemi
and Ronnie were the loving couple. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adri, in the middle of Mount Olympus</td></tr>
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Although absolutely
tired, we felt fortunate… happy. We had a great sunny day and we could reach
our main objective: the top of the Olympus. All the views had been unbelievable,
and we had been walking through amazing spots in the legendary Greek mountain.
All had gone nice, very nice!! And we were excited about Meteora... but that had to wait until the next day...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TUoSFw6W65I/AAAAAAAAAWY/IXytgcpQvMU/s1600/P1080797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TUoSFw6W65I/AAAAAAAAAWY/IXytgcpQvMU/s640/P1080797.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josemi, in the last kilometers</td></tr>
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<i><b>High On Fire - Snakes For The Divine </b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b> </b></i>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="144" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w4pvC8eaNlQ?fs=1" width="425"></iframe>
</div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-10431658376160020522011-01-24T03:16:00.008+01:002011-02-21T02:26:33.069+01:00Greece. Mount Olympus. Day 63<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Una vez más, y para descontento de algunos de los que suelen leerme, vuelvo al inglés en esta entrada. Una buena forma de practicar, aunque agradecería que alguien me corrigiese los errores (y así aprendo...). Allá va...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b> Day 63:</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzbrEVupMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/fUcxitkWVEQ/s1600/CIMG0302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzbrEVupMI/AAAAAAAAAU8/fUcxitkWVEQ/s200/CIMG0302.JPG" width="126" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">
The greek frontier is 180 km from Sofia. Too short distance to avoid the temptation… Ok,
<b>Athens</b> and all the famous islands are in the south, far away from us (around
1.000 km), but the north of Greece also has interesting things… The main
attraction for me was the <b>Mount Olympus</b>, the sacred mountain. All began when
Ludi told me things about this region, and how beautiful is. He joked about how
greek mountaineers try to exceed <b>Musala's </b>height, the highest Balkan
mountain, putting stones one above another in the top of the Olympus. Of course
it’s only a joke (I hope…), but it’s true that the Bulgarian peak is only 8
meters higher… so maybe, if they put enough stones...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzbo1DvsgI/AAAAAAAAAU4/ZUwNlTQE2ow/s1600/CIMG0298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="524" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzbo1DvsgI/AAAAAAAAAU4/ZUwNlTQE2ow/s640/CIMG0298.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the road to Greece. South Bulgaria landscape.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzd90iiIeI/AAAAAAAAAVc/OkAnpDIyuyM/s1600/recorrido.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzd90iiIeI/AAAAAAAAAVc/OkAnpDIyuyM/s200/recorrido.JPG" width="143" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">So, finally
I decided to look for some people interested in a trip to Mount Olympus (since
Pacas and Monroy were not). I put a message in the Sofia <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">couchsurfing</a> forum,
and one Bulgarian boy was very interested: <b>Ronnie</b>. I met with him in Flocafe
(just in the center of Sofia) on Wednesday, and we talked about the plan.
Everything was hasty; but we didn’t have so much time before extreme winter
temperatures, so we decided to try it as soon as possible: this weekend!! And
we added to the trip two main destinations: <b>Meteora</b> and <b>Thessaloniki!</b><o:p></o:p> I explained
everything to <b>Adri </b>and <b>Josemi</b> (our new spanish friends), and they were crazy about the idea! On Thursday, the four of us visited a huge
market in the outskirts of Sofia, in which we found some necessary (and
cheap!) things as gloves, winter pants, etc. Ready to rock!!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzb8DQgPrI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QfciqiDMr8c/s1600/P1080421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzb8DQgPrI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QfciqiDMr8c/s640/P1080421.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views over Litohoro and Aegean Sea. Cloudy day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near Litohoro... where is Olympus?</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">We arranged
to meet on Friday (<b>22th of October</b>) at 8 AM, but we started with some problems: Ronnie overslept
and we got muddled with our new meeting point… Result: we said good bye to
Sofia around one hour later. Bad thing, considering we were very short on time (as we will see later). The
journey to the frontier is easy and has great mountain landscapes, we could enjoy them with a sunny weather. We stopped
to have a quick meal in our way, and we arrived to the <b>frontier</b> 3 hours after exiting Sofia. A greek policewoman asked Ronnie where did he meet us (3
spanish), and why were we entering Greece. She was very impolite in her
manners… we joked long time about that situation. Since here, we started to
drive on highway, and everything went easier: 100 km after the frontier is <b>Thessaloniki</b>,
and another 100 more km and we were on <b>Litohoro</b>, a village used as a “base camp”
for the excursions to Mount Olympus. The day was very ugly, cloudy and foggy in the mountains. We bought some food in the last minute,
and we ate something before drove to the end of the port (<b>Prionia</b>, <b>1.060 meters high</b>, 17 km from
Litohoro) in which starts the path to <b>Zolotas hut </b>(or “<b>A</b>” hut). This hut is <b>2.060</b> meters high, so that day we had 1.000 meters of height difference, not bad!.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcKOB6U6I/AAAAAAAAAVI/N_gMLyklSXM/s1600/12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="488" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcKOB6U6I/AAAAAAAAAVI/N_gMLyklSXM/s640/12.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One more time... german motor!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzc7oteHrI/AAAAAAAAAVU/TnbFmR86vPo/s1600/P1080450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzc7oteHrI/AAAAAAAAAVU/TnbFmR86vPo/s400/P1080450.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here we go...</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">At that moment,
it was 5 PM and very cloudy. Not so much light around us. It’s 2 hours and a
half walking to the hut, so we had to be very hurry, or we would be covered by the
darkness. The path was very beautiful, all the time walking across a fall
forest. But, at the same time, it was darker and darker. And we didn’t know the
area, we didn’t see other people doing trekking around there… I had a map, but I think it's not useful in the night... These things
happen when you start walking at 5 PM… botch!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">I was
trying to rush the guys when I noticed that Ronnie’s bag was the biggest and
heaviest, and, naturally, he was the slowest. I asked him:</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">–<i>“Ronnie, what are you carrying there??”. </i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><i>–“Ahh… nothing special, only the clothes, some food, some beer…”. </i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><i>–“I see…beer... and
how much beer are you talking about?” </i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><i>–“Err… around 2 liters, I think… Ah! And
one bottle of Rakia!”. </i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><i> –“Fuck!, ok
Ronnie, we have to hurry up or we will get in troubles with the darkness… come
on, empty that bottles and we may walk faster”. </i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><i>–“No, no, no! No way! The beer
goes with me! No way! We have to drink it in the top of the peak!”</i>. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcg4Vx3cI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/Jka3q4xqeJ4/s1600/CIMG0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="586" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcg4Vx3cI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/Jka3q4xqeJ4/s640/CIMG0326.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcZhwrRSI/AAAAAAAAAVM/V-Fv5ocSvFE/s1600/asaesr.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzcZhwrRSI/AAAAAAAAAVM/V-Fv5ocSvFE/s320/asaesr.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the last photos of the day... before darkness</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Ok, ok…
at that moment I understood that Ronnie would not throw anything of his bag, and
much less the beer!. But since then, we took great pains to go faster. When the
last rays of light were disappearing, we reached two exhausted Greek girls. Twenty
minutes later, the absolute darkness covered us. The fog was blocking the moonlight, and everything went black, black, black. We continued walking with the help of some
small lanterns, but the girls were very tired and they wanted to stop to have a
rest (and they didn't have any lantern). I didn’t like the idea, because the hut was supposed to be close from our
position, so we did the last effort carrying their bags until the end. We were
lucky and we could follow the track and arrive to Zolotas
Hut, but getting lost in that conditions would have been quite risky. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzdDCrOJCI/AAAAAAAAAVY/_PA8N_3DN7M/s1600/P1080452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TTzdDCrOJCI/AAAAAAAAAVY/_PA8N_3DN7M/s640/P1080452.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amazing path to the Olympus</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Once inside,
we received a nice reward in its warm dining room: spaghetti and some beer!! We
had dinner with the girls and we all talked about our experience together, it
was a perfect ending to a very long (and funny) day. After that, we went to our
bunks and covered ourselves with 3 blankets each one… and they weren’t enough!!
<b>Viva la revolución</b>, Ronnie!!!</span></span></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-38549051216893228922011-01-10T01:49:00.002+01:002011-01-10T01:55:37.572+01:00Ciudadanos sofianetz. Días 52-62<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
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<b> Días 52-62:</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Con Iñaki en Flocafe</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Es lunes 11 de Octubre. El comienzo de la semana lo pasamos con <b>Iñaki</b>, que tenía su
vuelo de vuelta a España el martes por la tarde. Ha tenido tiempo de sobra para
ver todo lo destacable de Sofía, así que básicamente lo que hacemos es comer:
Dybaka, Happy Sushi, el restaurante del amigo de Ludi (del que ya hablé <a href="http://balkanswind.blogspot.com/2010/09/ciudadano-sofianetz-dia-10.html">aquí</a>), Flocafe (batidos, chocolate…), pastelerías, etc. El volumen de ingestas empieza
a ser excesivo incluso para un reconocido tripero como yo. Aparte del asunto
gastronómico, Iñaki tiene tiempo además de experimentar un poco de nuestra
cultura de PES (donde por cierto, nos funde), y <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rD5X5Lyhro">torrentismo</a>. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpVO9h3uoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/HQ9ruS0f-oQ/s1600/100_3571.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="568" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpVO9h3uoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/HQ9ruS0f-oQ/s640/100_3571.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En el Happy Sushi. De lo más caro que pagamos en Sofía, unos 10 € por persona, por cenar a base de sushi.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpWI3dY7oI/AAAAAAAAAUw/xRuW0kwDjLM/s1600/13122010125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpWI3dY7oI/AAAAAAAAAUw/xRuW0kwDjLM/s200/13122010125.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monroy con Marina</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">El miércoles conocimos a Marina, española y estudiante de
Bellas Artes, llegada hace poco a la ciudad. Quedamos con ella para comer en el
<b>Ugo</b>, y después la cosa se alarga en el Angel Heart, Art Hostel, Bizarro… además
de una curiosa exposición de Arte en la que se servía vino gratis (así da gusto
ir a ver cuadros).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpWWnrB_QI/AAAAAAAAAU0/UQuwkopjn2I/s1600/16102010136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpWWnrB_QI/AAAAAAAAAU0/UQuwkopjn2I/s320/16102010136.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adri, Josemi, Lubo, Mila, Marcos, Monroy, Rosi, Iva</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">El viernes por la noche quedamos con amigos de la Facultad
de Idiomas: Rosi, Mila y Lubo (ya mencionado en anteriores entregas). También
se pasan por allí dos nuevos colegas malagueños que a partir de ahora serán
auténticos socios: <b>Adri </b>y<b> Josemi</b>. Ellos trabajan en el Art Hostel, realizando
su página web y promocionando el lugar (que por cierto, es muy cuco). Lo
que en principio iba a ser una noche tranquila de cervezas entre amigos, <b>Lubo</b>
se encargó de animar a su manera, hasta el punto de convertir el pub donde
estábamos (Shipka) en una auténtica DEVASTACIÓN. No quiero extenderme en el
salvaje frenesí del que fuimos testigos, aunque estaba claro que la continua
reiteración de birra+tequila acabaría produciendo estragos... Toda cerveza posada en la mesa fue engullida de trago por el intrépido joven, quien
no dudó en arramplar después con los objetos alrededor. La cosa se calmó tras
evacuarlo a casa en el coche de Rosi. Pero antes de irse, dejó para el recuerdo
una profunda e interesante reflexión (con acento cubano, claro): <i>“¡¡Los búlgaros somos bárbaros!!... ¡pero con corazón!”.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpVLNfGPSI/AAAAAAAAAUg/Wn7ArnyvaTA/s1600/100_3553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSpVLNfGPSI/AAAAAAAAAUg/Wn7ArnyvaTA/s640/100_3553.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catedral Alexander Nevski. Foto de Iñaki.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Los siguientes 6 días no están documentados… así que quedarán
en forma de nebulosa en este blog, que hasta este momento había conseguido mantener
un carácter casi diario. Aunque tal vez sea mejor así, pues de esta manera paso
directamente a la que fue nuestra siguiente aventura: el asalto a tierras
griegas en busca del Olimpo de los dioses… </span><br />
<br /></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-75688916574914971982011-01-03T15:15:00.023+01:002011-01-21T18:27:26.915+01:00Musala (Montañas de Rila). Día 50<b>Día 50:</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWSqKhxwI/AAAAAAAAAT0/IbyURWaI-0s/s1600/Foto0992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWSqKhxwI/AAAAAAAAAT0/IbyURWaI-0s/s200/Foto0992.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Comienzo de la ruta...Borovets</td></tr>
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Me despierto a las 8 de la mañana con un mensaje de <b>Lubo </b>en
el móvil: <i>“Marcos, al final no voy. Pásalo bien.”.</i> He de decir que leer esto, aunque era esperado, me
alivió. Lubo es un gran tipo, de eso no cabe duda, pero me daba cierto <i>yuyu </i>emboscarme con él en esta ruta, en estas condiciones. Tras una hora de carretera,
a las 9.30 estoy en <b>Borovets</b>, la más concurrida estación invernal de Bulgaria
(junto con Bansko). Casi todo está cerrado aquí, y no hay gente por las calles.
Aparco junto al que creo que es el comienzo de la ruta, que no está señalizado.
Está situado a 1.300 metros de altitud. No hay ningún coche alrededor, lo que indica que probablemente no me encuentre a nadie en el camino. La pista está muy marcada, ya que es la que
usan los vehículos de la estación de ski para el mantenimiento de las pistas
superiores. No hay pérdida. La primera hora y media de caminata es bastante
lúgubre y fría, ya que transcurre en un apabullante bosque de pinos que
bloquean los rayos de luz varios metros por encima de mi cabeza, donde sólo veo
niebla y copas de árboles. El bosque es tan profundo y espeso, que se
agradece que el camino sea una pista forestal y no un estrecho sendero. El
suelo tiene una fina capa de nieve, que en su superficie es auténtico hielo. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" height="531" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWYHYmSiI/AAAAAAAAAT4/CQ5Y_5QpVl8/s640/Foto0995.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Y por fin comencé a salir del frondoso bosque...</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWeLLVaHI/AAAAAAAAAT8/tNC4wyTNUw4/s1600/Foto0998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWeLLVaHI/AAAAAAAAAT8/tNC4wyTNUw4/s200/Foto0998.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">Cuando (¡al fin!) comienzo a salir del bosque, el sol lo
ilumina todo repentinamente. Esto, por tontería que parezca, me animó
muchísimo, pues hasta ese momento no tenía muchas esperanzas de que fuese
posible llegar a la cima del <b>Musala</b>. Realmente tenía muy pocas, incluso de
llegar hasta el refugio, situado a 2.450 metros de altitud. Y es que una vez que dejo a
mis espaldas el frondoso pinar y la espesa niebla, todo parece más fácil de
repente. Paso cerca de la estación superior del telesilla <b>Yastrebets,</b> que es el
punto más alto de la estación. Unos operarios están cambiando unos cables cerca
de allí, así que aprovecho para preguntarles si voy en la dirección correcta.
Ellos se quedan bastante sorprendidos de verme andando por aquí, aunque para mí
supone otra bocanada de ánimo que me confirmen que voy bien. Paradójicamente, a
partir de este momento pierdo de vista el camino, y sigo simplemente
ascendiendo la ladera de la montaña en la dirección que intuyo correcta.
Durante bastante rato sigo unas pisadas de perro que se van colando con
habilidad entre numerosos arbustos y charcos de fango-nieve. Tal vez las
huellas eran de otro animal, pero yo en ese momento preferí pensar que
eran de perro por mi propia tranquilidad (aunque tiene chiste… ¿qué va a hacer
un perro por aquí, sólo?). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWvb0Lg1I/AAAAAAAAAUA/6txORT36kP4/s1600/Foto1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHWvb0Lg1I/AAAAAAAAAUA/6txORT36kP4/s640/Foto1000.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poco antes de encontrarme con los trabajadores... las rodadas eran suyas</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHW1MnuHLI/AAAAAAAAAUE/n3mnzPxYcDA/s1600/Foto1007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHW1MnuHLI/AAAAAAAAAUE/n3mnzPxYcDA/s200/Foto1007.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Musala Hut... según le ví</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Cuando llego al <b>Musala Hut </b>(refugio), a eso de la 12.15, hago mi primer
descanso en toda la mañana. Aprovecho para entrar dentro, donde me encuentro a
los dos guardas jugando unas cartas junto a la lumbre. Me miran con cara rara,
sin decir nada. Trato de entenderme con ellos, pero no hay forma, sólo hablan
búlgaro. Trato de preguntarles (por señas) si hay alguien más de camino a la
cumbre, pero no me comprenden. Me conformo con pedirles un cuchillo y una Coca
Cola, y me hago un buen bocata. 20 minutos después vuelvo al camino, ahora sí,
bien marcado y directo a la cima. A medida que subo la visibilidad es menor a
causa de la neblina que envuelve al macizo, y la nieve más
profunda.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHW661gltI/AAAAAAAAAUI/i_JMd_c6_XU/s1600/Foto1009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHW661gltI/AAAAAAAAAUI/i_JMd_c6_XU/s640/Foto1009.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pasando junto a uno de los varios lagos que hay en el camino... el Musala se divisa imponente en la izquierda</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXRefMlXI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/TaH_JgKvqpc/s1600/Foto1026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXRefMlXI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/TaH_JgKvqpc/s320/Foto1026.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Dejo atrás el <b>refugio Everest </b>(cerrado a cal y canto), construido en
honor al primer búlgaro que alcanzó el techo del mundo, y que desgraciadamente murió en el regreso. El último tramo es precioso, ya
en el mismo cono de la cima. Me recordó un poco al <i>Paso de Caradhras </i>por el que
se empeñó en ir Gandalf (sí, en estos momentos de soledad la mente se monta
unas películas que no veas…). Finalmente
a eso de las 15.00 h. llego arriba del todo, donde para mi sorpresa me
encuentro un pedazo de refugio y estación meteorológica. Sabía que aquí había
algo, pero no me imaginé esto (estamos a 2.925 m.). Le quita bastante encanto al lugar, que es el punto más alto de todos los Balcanes. Además, un grupo de unos 20
macedonios estaban allí haciendo fotos y tomando té. Se interesaron por saber
de dónde venía (ellos habían subido por la otra vertiente) y cómo estaba el
camino de bajada. Me invitaron a un té y se mostraron bastante sorprendidos de
encontrarse con un español aquí (supongo que no es lo más habitual…). Al final
no hizo tanto frío como se preveía, el termómetro marcaba -8 grados, y afortunadamente no hacía
nada de viento.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXL22LlVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/paQOK_vIENo/s1600/Foto1017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXL22LlVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/paQOK_vIENo/s640/Foto1017.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Vistas hacia el Norte, de donde vengo. Junto al tercer lago (el más lejano), está el Musala Hut, y más al fondo el valle hacia Borovets</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Tras un rato de descanso y unas fotos, comienzo a bajar con
los macedonios. La bajada la hago rápida y directa. Paré en el refugio Musala,
donde en principio tenía previsto quedarme a dormir, pero viendo que me
quedaban más de dos horas de luz para bajar hasta el coche, seguí para abajo.
La última parte, la del enorme bosque, se me hizo larga, dura y pesada. Las
piernas a reventar, en días como hoy me doy cuenta de lo vitales que son los
palos de treking, si no los llego a tener no aguanto. Sobre las 18.00 h llegué
al punto inicial, seriamente reventado… y es que de hecho fue una de las mayores
palizas que recuerdo: 3.300 metros de desnivel acumulado y unos 25 km en 8
horas casi sin descanso. Me queda 1 hora
en coche hasta Sofía, durante la cual casi me quedo frito conduciendo, tuve que
parar dos veces a por cafeína.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXWwDXBGI/AAAAAAAAAUU/bIO2piopLO8/s1600/Foto1035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXWwDXBGI/AAAAAAAAAUU/bIO2piopLO8/s640/Foto1035.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Creo que esto era el antiguo refugio del Musala... pero no estoy nada seguro</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXbaK8k3I/AAAAAAAAAUY/IBk1ns9Y8BU/s1600/Foto1041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TSHXbaK8k3I/AAAAAAAAAUY/IBk1ns9Y8BU/s200/Foto1041.jpg" width="150" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Al final... ¡Devastado!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Pero como siempre...pese a todo el esfuerzo físico, la experiencia
fue finalmente muy gratificante. No es lo ideal subir a la montaña en
solitario, es seguramente más aburrido (y arriesgado si surgen complicaciones),
pero al mismo tiempo es una sensación diferente, interesante. Hubiese sido
perfecto de no ser por las nubes y neblina que me impidieron disfrutar
plenamente del maravilloso paraje que son las montañas de <b>Rila</b>, y me ocultaron
por completo las vistas hacia el Sur mientras estuve en la cima. El resto del fin de semana fue de PAZ (y PES)
en el piso de Monroy-Pacas.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Hoy me despido con ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alice in Chains</b> <b> </b>y su <b>Last Of My Kind</b></span></div>
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<iframe frameborder="1" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gjIIQb7KNFc?fs=1" width="425"></iframe>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-91931297470157480772010-12-30T20:14:00.011+01:002011-01-21T18:28:27.725+01:00Ciudadanos sofianetz. Días 45-49<br />
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<b> Días 45-49:</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TRzXY49V5uI/AAAAAAAAATc/fJiT0-wKaUA/s1600/04102010107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TRzXY49V5uI/AAAAAAAAATc/fJiT0-wKaUA/s200/04102010107.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">¡Feliz cumpleaños!</td></tr>
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La semana comienza con el cumpleaños de <b>Monroy</b> (4 Octubre),
y qué mejor lugar para celebrarlo que nuestro respetado Dibaka… Nos metemos una
buena comilona, pero la fiesta tendrá que esperar al fin de semana.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TRzXbm_hJlI/AAAAAAAAATg/SRasTBC2k4I/s1600/28082010082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TRzXbm_hJlI/AAAAAAAAATg/SRasTBC2k4I/s200/28082010082.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ojito con los agujeros...</td></tr>
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El miércoles tuve la ocasión de acompañar a Iva al pueblo de
su abuela: <b>Godech</b>. El lugar no es nada especial, aunque le da un cierto encanto
el hecho de que para llegar a él haya que atravesar montañas y páramos
desolados (sí, está un pelín aislado…). Allí recogemos muchas cosas útiles para
nuestro piso en Sofía, alguna mesa, sillas, mantas, etc. Visitamos a los padres de
<b>Itzo</b>, amigo de la infancia de Iva, y charlamos varias horas con ellos,
especialmente con la madre, que viene de haber estado 9 meses en la India… Nos
cuenta su interesante experiencia. El padre regenta un restaurante a 10 km de
allí, en el cual nos invita a cenar muy generosamente. Una muestra más de
hospitalidad por parte de la gente búlgara, y ya van varias. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iñaki y Pacas, en la Iglesia Rusa de Sofía</td></tr>
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Al día siguiente, jueves, recogemos en el aeropuerto a
<b>Iñaki</b>, que viene de visita unos días. Obviamente esto supone realizar el tour
gastronómico básico por la ciudad, para que lo conozca debidamente. El viernes
hace algo de turismo mientras nosotros estamos en clase. Por la tarde le
acompañamos en otro largo paseo por el centro de la ciudad, donde flipa con el contraste entre "edificios monumentales-aceras destrozadas". </div>
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Por la noche, tanto Pacas como Monroy tienen ganas de
jarana. Yo estoy planteándome seriamente hacer la intentona definitiva al
<b>Musala</b>, ya que el tiempo cada vez es más frío y las montañas van acumulando más
y más nieve… cada semana que pase será más difícil subirlo. Las previsiones,
desgraciadamente, no son demasiado buenas (-14 grados en la cima a mediodía).
Además hay que iniciar la ruta desde abajo del todo (Borovets), porque como ya
vimos la semana pasada, el telesilla está cerrado. Pacas me asegura (con
la honestidad que le caracteriza) que él no lo va a intentar, porque esta noche piensa devastar y mañana madruga Rita. Con todas estas circunstancias, es normal que dudase
largo rato si intentarlo o no. Mientras yo me lo pensaba, estos elementos degustaban a elevado ritmo una botella de
1 l. de <b>Rakia</b> que les había traído nuestro amigo búlgaro <b>Lubo</b>. A Lubo lo conocimos
en la facultad de idiomas, donde estudia español. Se le entiende bastante bien,
aunque tiene un marcado acento cubano que no logramos comprender de dónde proviene.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Con el gran Lubo, durante nuestra conversación</td></tr>
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Finalmente, cuando ya van a salir de casa (a eso de las 00.30
h.), tomo una determinación: mañana voy al Musala a intentarlo. En ese momento,
el apuesto y embrutecido Luboslav se viene arriba: -“<i>Amigo, yo te acompaño”</i>. Me
quedo estupefacto, pues hasta ese momento no imaginé que pudiera tener el más
mínimo interés por semejante actividad, además de que se había pimplado media botella de Rakia delante mío. -<i>“Lubo, que no hombre, no te preocupes,
que me da igual ir solo..” –“Que no, que no, que soy búlgaro, fuerte. Yo te
acompaño” –“Pero Lubo… si vais a salir
ahora de fiesta y llegarás a casa a las tantas… ¿cómo piensas levantarte mañana
para estar andando todo el día??” –“Yo llego
casa a las 7, duermo una hora y me recoges. Luego, duermo un poco más en coche,
y listo. Soy búlgaro!!!”</i>, me dice al tiempo que hace un inequívoco alarde de virilidad agarrándose sus partes. Nos miramos unos a otros, desconcertados. Realmente está hablando en serio, por muy borracho que esté. –<i>“¿Tienes ropa para el frío
y la nieve??” –“Soy búlgaro!!! Aquí Sofía, 20 bajo cero año pasado!! No frío
para mí!!”</i>. Todo esto con la botella de Rakia en la mano, casi finiquitada, y Pacas y Monroy descojonándose de la risa alrededor nuestro. Bueno… pocas rutas de montaña recuerdo tan cargadas de
incertidumbre y tan desconcertantes como esta, pero el caso es que quedé con él
en recogerle a las 8.30 de la mañana siguiente. Me fui a la cama preguntándome
en qué clase de líos nos podíamos meter. La buena noticia fue que el tiempo
ahora era la menor de mis preocupaciones… <br />
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<i><b>Ozzy - Miracle Man </b></i><br />
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</div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5701559696064600102.post-55562072958114595812010-12-16T00:46:00.002+01:002010-12-16T01:05:09.169+01:00Ciudadanos sofianetz. Días 38-44<strong>Días 38-44:</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En el modesto comedor de la Univ. de Sofía</td></tr>
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<strong>Comer</strong> en Sofía, y por extensión en Bulgaria, es una experiencia realmente placentera. Para comenzar, la comida de aquí “ta güena”. Además, la calidad de las materias primas, presentación, etc..., la cuidan realmente, mucho más que la media en España. Pero probablemente el punto diferenciador con respecto a nuestra tierra patria es el <strong>precio</strong>. No es que sea la mitad, es que es bastante menos… Comer en un restaurante “pijo” del centro (centro) de la capital, a la carta y sin privarse de nada, por 6 ó 7 € máximo… no tiene parangón. Una pizza grande en Santander, no baja de los 12 €, si nos vamos a cualquier sitio tipo Britannia, El Solecito... En Sofía, en una de las mejores pizzerías, alrededor de 4,5 € la más bestia. Un kebap alrededor de 1,5 €, por 4,5 € en España. Y así… </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foto para mamá</td></tr>
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No obstante, y aunque los precios sean bajísimos para lo que estamos nosotros acostumbrados, hemos ido buscando lugares cada vez más y más económicos (manteniendo una calidad mínima…) hasta que finalmente dimos con algo difícilmente superable por estos lares: <strong>La Facultad de Arquitectura</strong> de una Universidad, llamémosla “X”. Sí, con dos cojones. Dos platos, postre y pan por 1,5 €. No es extraño, por tanto, que este bello edificio del que sólo conocemos el comedor, se haya convertido en nuestro nuevo lugar de peregrinación. Una auténtica desgracia para nuestra progresión como cocineros, ahora fuertemente estancada. </div>
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Buscando el edificio anterior (debemos su hallazgo a nuestra amiga Melina), entramos por error en el edificio principal de “nuestra” Universidad (<strong>U. de Sofía</strong>). Desde luego que el fallo no fue en vano, porque pasear por las dependencias de ese gigantesco edificio monumental de más de 100 años de historia, no tiene desperdicio alguno. Grandes salones, cuadros, escalinatas de mármol…, parece un palacio. Por fuera tampoco se queda atrás, de hecho es uno de los lugares más destacados de toda Sofía.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En el patio exterior del Museo Militar</td></tr>
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Otro descubrimiento fue el <strong>Museo Militar </strong>(calle Cherkovna), al que no pudimos entrar por estar cerrado Lunes y Martes. De todas formas nos la gozamos con los "trastos" que hay expuestos en el patio exterior: cazas, tanques soviéticos, artillería nazi, camiones-radar, anfibios... Todo ello de la I y II Guerra Mundial, y de la Guerra Fría. !!Esto hay que visitarlo en condiciones!!. Volveremos.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Expedición frustrada al Musala con Pacas. Se veía tan cerca...</td></tr>
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El viernes, después de las clases, Pacas y yo tenemos preparado el asalto a las montañas de Rila, concretamente a su cota más alta (y de todos los Balcanes): el<strong> Musala</strong>. La idea es subir hasta el refugio que hay junto a su base, y el sábado por la mañana llegar a la cumbre en lo que parece un fácil trecho. Pero nada de eso pudo ser… menuda decepción al llegar a <strong>Borovets </strong>y enterarnos de que el telesilla está cerrado por mantenimiento hasta la temporada invernal… desde hace 5 días… La opción B, que sería subir andando desde ahí mismo hasta el refugio a través de un enorme bosque (1.300 metros de desnivel hasta el refugio) nos resulta inviable por no tener tiempo suficiente de llegar antes de que anochezca, no conocer el camino, no mapa… Inviable. Aprovechamos lo que queda de tarde dando un paseo con el coche por aquellos preciosos parajes circundantes al bloque montañoso que supone Rila. Lo del Musala queda pospuesto… aunque habrá que subir desde abajo del todo andando… nada de telesillas ni mariconadas de estas.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rastreando por Vitosha</td></tr>
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El sábado volvimos a subir al Monte <strong>Vitosha</strong> para dar un paseo por allí con Iva y Daniela. Quisimos impresionarlas llevándolas a un refugio donde daban muy buen comida y Motorhead sonaba en los altavoces (lo constatamos hacía unos días). Pero el tiro nos salió por la culata, la maldita montaña tiene una orografía complicada y nosotros somos un poco cortos, así que nos perdimos y estuvimos dando vueltas un par de horas entre el barro y la maleza. Finalmente (ya casi media tarde) nos resignamos a comer en un refugio masificado, y de cuestionable calidad. Luego, de vuelta en la ciudad, unos pasteles de los que se comen por esta zona del mundo: ¡¡<strong>Baklava</strong>!!. Delicioso…</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TQlOCdoOskI/AAAAAAAAAS0/-KsN9iJt7T4/s1600/rocanrola.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TQlOCdoOskI/AAAAAAAAAS0/-KsN9iJt7T4/s320/rocanrola.bmp" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En el Rock'n'Rolla</td></tr>
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Por la noche aún tuvimos tiempo de estar de vuelta en Sofía para “devastar” en el <strong>Rock'n'rolla</strong>, un club de música <em>rock-metal</em> muy cuco. Ni que decir tiene que a mí me encantó, sonando cosas como Metallica, Rammstein, RATM, Pantera… Buen ambiente y cervezas de medio litro a 1,5 € (los cubatas ya son otra cosa, precio similar al español). Allí estuvimos con gente búlgara (Milena, Razim…), y griega. Tienen una sala independiente donde hay un karaoke con todo tipo de canciones. Monroy se lanzó con “<em>La Bamba</em>”, un clásico de lengua castellana para dar un poco de color al asunto. Cumplió en la difícil misión de ganarse a un público tan opuesto estilísticamente, se oyeron incluso aplausos ante tamaña demostración de hispanidad. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TQlP6Od4kFI/AAAAAAAAATE/QtFIEuxGl3Y/s1600/01122009102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dO83Wc8MjHU/TQlP6Od4kFI/AAAAAAAAATE/QtFIEuxGl3Y/s200/01122009102.jpg" width="200" /></a>Cerramos la semana, aparte de con algo de resaca, con una visita al <strong>Museo de la Naturaleza.</strong> (Se encuentra junto a la Iglesia Rusa, en Tsar Voboditel Blvd). Muchos animales disecados, muchísimos. Desde osos hasta cóndores, pasando por bisontes ó lagartijas de cuello ancho. Pero desde que quitaron la exposición de serpientes vivas (allá por el 2008 dí crédito de ello), ya no mola tanto. La entrada, alrededor de 1 €. Por la noche, al garito de confianza “<strong>Sports1</strong>” a ver religiosamente el partido del Real Mandril, con unas <strong>Zagorkas</strong> bien tiradas.</div>
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Me ha dado con <strong>The Sword.... Fire Lances of the Ancient Hyperzephyrians!!!!</strong> (el trozo a partir del 2.27 me motiva... mucho)<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Fb6wlplLpX4?fs=1" width="480"></iframe></div>Marcoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884467170375449790noreply@blogger.com0