The Balkan Express

I was pushing out of Istanbul on the Balkan Express, 22:00 to Sofia. It was another sleeper. Istanbul had been a whirling Dervish of an experience and I was sorry to see the back of the great city but I had to push on. I was reluctant and lethargic as if I had been sampling some of Istanbuls once legendary opium dens.  Everyone was leaving, it was exodus, the Americans who I had met in Athens had flown home and the Aussies had made moves to recapture Galliopli. It was the time to leave.

I was in a three sleeper bunker, with a couple of German hikers. They had brought their dog too. Either he, or the Germans smelt, so I forced the window down, it was unfair, like implementing the Peace of 1919.  It came back to bite me, the window not the dog, I'd brought the international copy of the Times and settled down to do the cross word. At four in the morning the window must have slipped down and I woke up in a whirlwind of paper blowing round the compartment, I tried to collect them in the dark but it was tricky as getting the gold notes at the end of the crystal maze.

At five some men with automatics and silencers, breezed through the train, it had the look of a shake down but it was only visa inspection. I handed over my passport and fell back to sleep. I shouldn't have bothered, the dog started barking. I really missed Istanbul.

The first impression of Sofia were and are bleak. It looks drab, the buildings are as grey as the weather, and the weather as bad as the faces of the inhabitants. Id been warned  "dont got to sofia" but I thought I should check it out. Of course like everywhere behind the iron curtain you can tell the communists have been at the controls. The rail in was dominated by great whales of decaying industry. Rusted factories, long obsolete, electricity pylons leading to vast abandoned buildings that probably used to make soviet tractor parts. It looked like its heyday was thirty years ago and even then I don't suppose it had ever been particularly beautiful and now it looked like it was shuddering through a long slow death. Its supposed to be in ascendancy. Electric trolley buses are the main form of transport, presuming you couldn't afford a Lada, and they looked as old as pleasant as Brechnev.

Id booked a hostel next to Ceasers Casino, but this casino shared nothing with the one in Vegas. The hostel was pleasant though, I had read it was an old Greek affair which had miraculously escaped the modernisation drive of the communists. I met a pair of Australian-Italian girls, who shared my sentiments on Sofia. They had come from Istanbul and we all missed the great city. We planned to get out the town tomorrow to get into the countryside. The emperor Constantie who made Istanbul , had prefered sofia to the city of his namesake, he called it "my rome", hopefully the rest of Bulgaria hadnt been ravaged by his modern heirs.

We went for a wadner, I was contented with the attractive female company and they were happy to walk round what looked like a seedy city with a hard as nails man. Of course the Aussies got the raw end of the deal, Im as much use as a rubber knife when it comes to violence. There is a large orthordox cathedral in Sofia, The  Nevesky cathedral. Its pretty impressive, and dark inside, you can see the influence of Russia here, and this time not the communists. I was in eastern Europe and was of course moving around in the old Tsarist sphere of influence. A pleasent market selling Icons, and paintings was just outside, you can pick good things up for only a few Bulgarians, but then you'd have to come to Sofia first and Im not convinced thats such a great trade.