April 2024. Plovdiv, Bulgaria.
Mrs RM was a bit knackered by the time we got back from the northern bus station, a half hour walk resulting in a Bulgarian lady scribbling down the time of the next day’s bus to Veliko Tarnovo (which I’d already told her) but ignoring the request for tickets. Because they don’t sell tickets; just sandwiches.
I had to cheer her up with a bottle of lime Cappy and some flaky pastry things.
That energised her just enough for the Old Town,
a beguiling city of Roman remains,
and modern art,
with the (very few) tourists headed for the Ancient Theatre of Philippopolis.
I’ve rarely seen such a beguiling place with so few visitors,
packed with little museums,
gorgeous churches,
and unexpected views round every corner.
Oddly, the Old Town seemed almost devoid of places to eat, bar this hill-top place with views to the fortress.
But although it said “beer”, it didn’t say “craft”, so we headed on.
retiredmartin 