One course follows the other and, as my hosts confirm, they are just like grandmother used to make them - roasted pepper, as fundamental for Bulgarians as bread, large beans, which have to be baked in a clay dish for six hours, or mouth-watering lamb stuffed with rice, a compulsory dish at this time of year, around Easter. All this is accompanied by bright green salad, giant tomatoes and snow-white goat's cheese ... not to forget the red wine, which itself is worth flying here for.
The whole of Sofia with its innumerable small lights can be seen from there while we are sipping rakia. That is my first experience in Sofia - the harmony of flavours and the joy of eating. The following morning, after driving 120 kilometres up winding mountain roads, we reach Bulgaria's holiest place, the Rila monastery. It was founded by followers of Saint John in the 10th century, in memory of the saint who led the life of a hermit in a nearby cave. Tsars and monarchs came here on pilgrimages at the time. His miraculous power remained even after his death. Byzantine emperor Manuel I was allegedly cured by his relics. Several times the monastery was ruined, burnt down and again rebuilt, but to this day the numbered cells overlooking the cloister are inhabited by monks.
An outstanding feature of the monastery is its huge, octagonal kitchen, with its large, sooty kettles. It reminds you of an enormous funnel, having an interior height of 22 metres and a domed top. Tourists walking in the cloister look curiously at the open corridors connecting the cells, where monks with braids and beards, wearing long, black garments appear from time to time. You can encounter some of them in the fascinating, richly decorated monastery church, where they sell candles and occasionally bless the icons of those approaching them.
Tourists arriving by car stay, but climbers with rucksacks continue on their way, since after only a few hours of walking you can reach the highest peaks of Bulgaria from the monastery, which lies at a height of 1147 metres. Here the two fast-flowing, crystal clear mountain streams, the Rilska and the Drushljavica, meet. Here, too, are the majestic forests of the Rila National Park.
Pressing on, we get in the car again and within another hour we arrive in another world. Tourists tramp around in ski boots, shops offer hats and snowboards. This is Bansko, the largest ski paradise in Eastern Europe. Through the hotel's window we see a huge three-dimensional picture postcard - Pirin's enormous snowy peaks disappearing in the fog, people enthusiastically gliding down the ski-slope, a tiny little red coat between them ... he doesn't even reach his dad's knees and can ski better than I ever will. The world is already getting ready for the spring, but in Bansko the ski season lasts until mid-April. However, our guide betrays that he prefers the summer around here, when you can go hiking in the mountains, just with a tent should the night reach you. There are 176 lakes in this area, known locally as "the eyes of the mountains". There are short, roaring, deep rivers, and caves to be discovered, not to mention the town itself, which has maintained its charm despite being prepared for the tourist influx.
Like the special dialect, which only the locals understand, each house has its own history and, of course, its mehana, or wine cellar. The visitor can find a few of these in the town, with robust tables, candles and fireplaces with thick logs burning in most of them. The narrow, curving streets of the centre still recall the era the Ottoman occupation - fugitives could more easily hide in these tortuous places. The Church of the Holy Trinity is in the centre of the town. We happen to arrive during a mass, but apart from ourselves only a few are listening to the chanting of the priest. Red and white ribbons are hanging off the trees in the churchyard. The martinichkas must have remained here from last year. On 1 March Bulgarians pin such ribbons on their clothes and wear them as long as the first storks arrive. Then the martinichkas are tied to budding tree branches, the many ribbons giving the trees a red appearance from afar. (If you happened to travel from Bulgaria to Budapest on a Malév flight on March 1, you surely received a ribbon as a gift of the airline.) There is a smallish fair by the church - colourful wall carpets, knitted socks and mementoes from the war. We scuffle along in the cold, while the sellers with their headscarves arrange their merchandise with motionless faces.
The warmth feels good after the walk. I flee to the Finnish sauna in the wellness section of the hotel. It's the hottest there. The morning skiers also move around contentedly, perspiring and resting, enveloped in the orange coloured towels and dressing gowns bearing the Kempinski initials. Besides the wellness, there is an ayurvedic centre with Indian masseurs and an Indian doctor. I only hear about the magic of the treatment and massages - herbal oils, milky steam bath - but it already makes me feel younger. There is a huge fireplace in the hotel lounge, just like in the mehanas, and large, comfy armchairs. All that is needed is a glass of Tcherga wine, which is exactly as colourful and exciting as the homespun it was named after.
Then it's back to Sofia, which somehow is always left out from the itinerary of tourists travelling to the seaside or the mountains. Nevertheless, this very old but still brand new, undiscovered place deserves some time. It is one of the oldest cities in Europe, although it became the capital only 130 years ago, after the Ottoman occupation, and at that time it had only 3,000 residents. In the past century and more it has grown into a city of one and a half million, and as they say here: "it has grown but not aged".
By European standards a surprising number of green areas have been preserved. Perhaps only the number of churches is higher than that of the parks, since there are at least 70 of the former. The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is the biggest and most emblematic, the symbol and centre of Sofia - all the sightseeing tours begin here. Sofia's liveable and enjoyable city centre reflects the modern coffee house experience of the 21st century. So does Vitosha Boulevard with its elegant stores, still the city bears its long and militant past with palpable pride. With that feeling, it is enough to pause at the main square for a short while. The past is there in the legend of Saint Sofia Cathedral, in the patriarch's home or the stone lions symbolising truth and, of course, in the objects of the past 50 years, which are sold to tourists by traders from small tables.
A main attraction of Sofia is its location. There are not many cities where it takes only 15 minutes from the centre to be able to sledge and ski - even during a lunch break. The Vitosha mountain, with its 2,300 metre high Black Peak, is the city dwellers' favourite. Boyana at the foot of the mountain, an independent village just a couple of decades ago, is now part of Sofia and the most elegant at that. In the immediate vicinity of beautiful villas, dilapidated village houses dating from a long-forgotten time still stand. There is a fenced churchyard in the middle of the district with a tiny, 10th-century church, which has beautiful frescos. As our guide says, they had already discovered the Renaissance before Giotto. There is a huge film studio not far from the church - a sort of Sofia Hollywood. Like a shot, we have leapt over more than a thousand years.
Before walking back to the hotel via the lovers' bridge, we deliberately make a detour towards Saint Michael's Church or 'the Russian Church' as it is called here. This small church itself deserves the detour but, in addition, under the small golden domes stairs lead down to the crypt of Metropolitan Serafim. Legends have survived about Serafim's charity, and although he has been dead for fifty years, he is still doing good deeds, at least that is what believers maintain. By the entrance to the crypt there is a small table with paper and pens. Everyone can write down what he or she would like to ask of Serafim, and can put it in a small box. An important wish is definitely worth that. So don't forget ... to the left from the entrance and down the steps.
Anna Nagy