Category Archives: Bulgaria

Spotting the spies on my train to Istanbul

Did you know the Orient Express had the nickname “Spies’ Express“? Look I know the Orient Express doesn’t exist anymore but here’s my fellow travelers on the night train from Sofia to Istanbul, ranked by how definitely they were spies:

Clearly Sofia station is so empty because the locals want to get away from all the spies

The guy who stood in the corridor looking out the windows for ages: if he was a spy he wasn’t very subtle. Probably just wanted to stand for a bit. Or is that what he wanted us to think? Ultimately, he’s the least spy-like of the passengers.

The South American couple who asked me to swap compartments with one of them so they could travel together: hah, a likely excuse. No doubt there was some nefarious reason to have me further away from the toilets.

The conductor: had us all writing our names on a sheet of paper. Clearly a tactic to gain information; only worked because he was wearing a uniform.

The guy in my compartment who appeared to know my name even though I never told it to him: yeah, 100% spy.*

*if you’re wondering, it’s because he filled in the piece of paper with everyone’s names on it after me. There’s no gdpr on Turkish trains I guess.

In praise of Sofia, Bulgaria

I arrived in Sofia at nightfall, not sure what to expect. It was noticeably quieter than Bucharest, which I’d left 10 hours ago that morning, and the calm was nice — though in an unfamiliar city, quieter can also mean sketchier. A fact I was reminded of when I realized the way out of the station was down an escalator into an underpass with just one shop open, and a mini casino. Well, I only had to get a few blocks to my hostel, and then I could reassess in the morning.

I could have skipped the city altogether. You can roll right through Bulgaria on your way from Bucharest to Istanbul, but I’d decided to make a detour and spend some time in the capital, Sofia. There wasn’t any particular reason for this — I don’t know anyone from Bulgaria, I don’t know anyone who has been to Bulgaria, I hadn’t been prompted by a compelling travel article about the place… honestly my only connection is that I once went to a Bulgarian restaurant in Grenoble, France, and it was a nice time. (Hit the subscribe button for more great travel planning tips.)

Anyway, I can only conclude that you should get all your travel ideas by going to restaurants, because my initial misgivings were totally off-base. Sofia was the perfect balance between “real city” energy (unlike old-town Brasov) and laid-back (unlike Bucharest). It’s not exactly full of sights, apart from approximately 5 million billion churches. But it’s got quiet tree lined streets, fun cafes and local shops, it’s near mountains that you can see as you look down the street, there’s working public transport (that you can pay for using contactless, do you know where you can’t do that? Frigging Paris), the drivers obey road rules… Oh and it’s super cheap by European standards. Basically, if you want somewhere to chill out for a couple of days in your crazy cross-Europe train trip, Sofia is a solid option.

Legit street trees, gets a thumbs up from me
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Things I saw on the train from Bucharest to Sofia

Waiting in Bucharest station

Did you know that Romania has an oil industry? Yeah me neither until I looked out the window and think, are those… oil wells? Turns out, the oil from Romania played an important role in WW1 and 2.

Perhaps more stereotypically, as the train goes through a level crossing the first vehicle in the queue, in front of all the cars, is a horse-drawn farm cart with hay in it.

Speaking of stereotypes, the train out of Bucharest has quite a few Brits on board. All sitting in the same part of the carriage. None of us talking to each other, even when interesting things happened like the Romanian border police collecting all our passports and getting off the train. (I later spotted some of the same people on the street in Sofia and we all politely pretended to not recognize each other. Honestly, what a nation.)

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Zoe’s post office reviews, from Budapest to Istanbul

On this trip, I’ve been writing postcards as I go. Initially I thought I’d hang onto them all until I get to Australia and post from there, but then in Budapest I decided I’d give the local post office a go. And since then I’ve done a post office trip in every city I’ve stayed in. Here are my reviews.

(“Did the card actually get to its recipient” — arguably the main function of the postal system — is not a criterion, because it’s far too early to judge that. I’m still in Istanbul for goodness sake.)

Budapest

This was my first post office, and I approached with trepidation. Would there be some obscure queueing system that I would get yelled at for misunderstanding? Would I be waiting all morning? Would I be able to explain that I would like a stamp for this postcard to the UK?

Lol. There was one person ahead of me in the queue. The lady behind the counter both smiled at me(!) and spoke perfect English. I regretted having only 2 cards to send, given how successful the exercise was.

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