Oh sod it, there goes the Roman alphabet. Better put on my best confused face and learn the word ‘thank you’.
Beer can has a sash over it reading ‘hobo’. Clever branding. Know your target market. 
8:42 – lost in a rural old town on a hillside. 9:30 – checked in to a hilltop hostel, heading into town for a jazz festival with two local students.
It’s going to be 42degrees tomorrow. Crack out the shorts and sandals, chuck out the socks!
I was expecting to learn the Bulgarian for “one more tune”. Maybe others didn’t enjoy it as much as I did.
Drunk Belgian boy scout in the hostel hammock awakes at 8:30 to a head sopping with freezing water.
Mad-dogs, check. Midday, check. Sun, check. Now all we need is an English man…
Elsewhere in the world, bread-based products always seem to come filled. Chocolate, cheese, unidentifiable goo.
‘Negro’ music bar. Really?
Hostel staff, including today’s three technical support guys (for one PC), outnumber guests by three to one.
Order – 10min wait – cutlery served – 10min wait – salt and pepper pots arrive – 10min wait – and some oils – 10min wait – a starter! (not the one I ordered but still a starter.)
I’m doing Bulgaria a dis-service by leaving, but promise I shall return to do it justice.
