retiredmartin

April 2024. Sofia.

I’m sure we could have caught a Thursday flight home and managed 3 Bulgarian cities in 3 nights like Murray Head or something, but best not rely on Balkan buses, eh ?

So Mrs RM had booked a second night in Sofia at the end of our mini-break (she’d happily have stayed on all month getting the whole of Europe ticked),

and happily it meant we got some culture with a big “C” and a deeper insight to Europe’s most underrated capital (bar Douglas).

Mrs RM had found us a hotel 10 minutes walk south of the bus station,

and we got to admire the old trams and casinos and business hotels along Maria Louisa Boulevard

on the way to the Soviet styled “Central Club”. Another clean and well-equipped £35 bargain, very swish with Rennie Mackintosh lampshades and a “FREE” pass to the basement spa.

An astute judge of character, Mrs RM sensed the spa’s appeal was observational rather than participational, and we headed out to admire the churches, mosques and synagogues rather than bare bottoms in the 24 hour Thai massage.

Despite being 15 degrees cooler than when we arrived on Monday, Sofia looked rather more attractive tonight.

Needing something quick, and Mrs RM turning down my felafel suggestions (“uggghh”) we splashed out in the new looking City Burger place near the cultural district,

which had a beer (Boxen ?) I couldn’t find on Untappd but which was clean and tasty.

Getting boring now, but again this was high quality grub, if a little minimalist on the plate.

Rather smokey inside, which added to a sultry soundtrack.

“Whatever happened to Eliza Doolittle ?” asked Mrs RM, suddenly, and I just couldn’t answer.

Our music that evening was even more cerebral than Eliza, as long as we could secure tickets at the city’s rather utilitarian symphony hall.

“Long as we get there at a quarter to we’ll be fine” said Mrs RM, who obviously had little experience of the legacy of communist queueing.

The queue to but tickets for tonight’s Korngold/was barely a dozen long, but a model of inefficiency almost entirely of the customer’s making.

Everyone wanted concessionary tickets they patently weren’t entitled to, or wished to pay the irritating amount of 23.37 lev in cash rather than by card as the venue would no doubt have preferred.

Still, a joy to be able to see a compute run on Windows 3.0 and Supercalc 5.

Not quite as impressive a venue as Skopje, but sensational sound, nonetheless, and again no-one dressed up for the classical music.

Mrs RM got told off by the lady sitting next to her for taking a photo (before the concert started). Reader, that lady spent the gig on her phone !

Liya Petrov’s Korngold was gorgeous.

Bit different from punk gigs at Sheffield’s Yellow Arch; I counted six ovations and two encores.

Here’s the bit of Elgar you will know; makes you proud to be British;

Sadly, the little kiosk with half-time refreshments sold only Becks and imported wine, and hence had no trade at all.

All over after 90 minutes, like football matches used to be before VAR, and suddenly Sofia looked a great city.

No, it really did.

I felt a bit “craft bar”d out, but we had a half on the pavement outside Crafter,

which looked like every other craft bar by now and seemed a bit too reliant on imports.

A murky Cohones and Dorst, which sounds like a firm of solicitors, the Dorst exceptional.

Think I got about 5 Untappd badges for that one.