София, България

Since things are now going so much better in Bulgaria, I’ll start off this generally-positive topic with a rant. Fucking cyrillic! When I arrived in Sofia I had only English-written directions to the hostel. When I walked out of the bus station and into the city looking for Vitosha boulevard I was greeted by several signs which read with some sort of Russky scribble-scrabble. How the hell am I supposed to follow my directions if I can’t even read the street signs?

Well, this situation eventually worked itself out. I now know how to pronounce words like a Bulgarian that were written with the Cyrillic alphabet. So I can at least map my English directions to Bulgarian street signs.

Onto my first hostel, I was initially scared that I was boarding with a bunch of stiffs so I went wandering to another hostel to find transport to an ancient monestary in the area. As soon as I stopped off in the new place, I was greeted by a friendly Scot that offered me a beer. Now this is my kind of hostel. Five hours and many more beers later I stumbled back to my bed at hostel one. The “stiffs” were wasted and wandering around the halls looking for more alcohol. I hit another bar with two charming Dutch chicks (probably a couple, so don’t vicariously get your hopes up) to finish off the evening.

My original intent in investigating the new hostel was to secure a day-trip’s travel to the Rila Monestary. The following day I jumped in a taxi with the aforementioned Dutch women and embarked on the trip. We were driven by a stupid/crazy Bulgarian taxi driver (his description; not mine) for a six-hour voyage. His limitation of only knowing 500 words of the English language didn’t stop the two of us from carrying on four hours of conversation about things such as Bulgarian history, the economy, Arnold Shwartzeneggar, and Bill Clinton’s infamous blow job. I tipped him about $6 which is more than it costs me to eat here for a day.

I’m now spending a good bit of time with the Scot I mentioned above. This guy, Grant, is living on the thinnest bank account you’ve ever heard of. But at $0.40 for a 32 ounce beer, one can party pretty hard in Sofia with limited resources. The two of us hit a Bulgarian club last night after having already had too much to drink and tore that place up. The dance floor was empty when we arrived but packed after we seeded it and bought the locals a few of the $2 vodkas we were drinking. Grant, three Finns that were staying in our hostel, and I were leading the charge to a DJ that started with old 80’s tunes and ended up with modern hip-hop. Believe me that the people that I had talked to went crazy around me when he put on California Love (we do know how to party.) And I should point out that the women in Sofia are the hottest, sexiest specimens I have ever seen in my life. And they’re quite fun when introduced to a generous American.

I’m probably going to be hitting Dubrovonik in Croatia on Friday. But until I’ve booked some travel, my plans are technically open. I hope my luck there is half as good as it was in this city!