And love it was with beautiful Sofia—which, incidentally, is pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable (i.e. SO-fee-ya) and not like the name as I had previously assumed. I settled on it as a destination as I so often do: finding a cheap flight. In truth, I had wanted to see Macedonia but Sofia was a mere bus ride away and so it was settled.
I arrived on an early Qatar Airways flight from Doha, easily the emptiest I’ve traveled on in years. The emptiness, it would follow, came from the fact that it was of course Christmas morning and most people taking that route had already showed up.
In my defense, most Orthodox-predominant countries celebrate Christmas after the 12th day (so, January 7th), and I quite reasonably assumed Bulgaria was the same. Thankfully, I figured it out prior to departure, but that was little consolation for the hauntingly quiet void that was the city center.
This proved a double-edged sword for my travel passions, which is to say what I look for when I evaluate any destination:
People
Food
Architecture
Music
Nº 3 was of course much easier than it would otherwise have been and Nº 2 was not a problem as my hotel was lovely and accommodating. Nº 1 was a near impossibility – everyone was home with families and those who were out and about seemed to be either going to their families or to church – which meant that Nº 4 was an actual impossibility.
So it goes.
I had more than enough architecture to occupy my time. Sofia is astonishingly rich with religious architecture, and I happened to be staying within a ten minute walk of a synagogue (pictured above), a mosque (pictured below), the Catholic cathedral (an altogether hideous building that I don’t think I attempted to photograph), and of course numerous Orthodox churches.
The name of the city itself comes from the church of Света София (Sveta Sofia, meaning either “Saint Sophia” or, as its contemporary the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, “Holy Wisdom”), so it should come as no surprise that the religious tradition runs deep. The Banya Bashi mosque is a relic of Ottoman rule (as one so often finds in the Balkans), and its congregation is primarily Turkish (I had assumed Albanian which is true of neighboring Macedonia, but as it turns out the Albanian population in Bulgaria is very low).
You truly couldn’t have picked a more stereotypical weather pattern for this part of the world. While I find the urban decay (no makeup pun intended) sublimely beautiful, I can see how one might find it too evocative of post-Soviet melancholy. It’s worth mentioning, for the record, that Bulgaria was indeed not part of the USSR but was Eastern Bloc nonetheless and bordered Yugoslavia.
One last thought on the weather – as previously discussed: it’s interesting how different the sky color ended up in each of these photos. Some of that was caused by the light or angle thereof, most of it the victim of my creative editing. In retrospect, there is something to be said for a stylistically consistent set of images… and something else to be said for the platonic ideal of a singular image standing alone.
I’m happy to say I here achieved neither. And, as ever, so it goes.