Wednesday Aug 8th
What a day! We started the day at one amazing wild camp and ended
an even more amazing one! Last night we
camped way above Rila Monastery in an ancient forest in a clearing beside a
small river. It was at just over 1200m in the Piran mountains. The scenery was
stunning and our location was about as remote as it was possible to get on a
motorbike. We had ridden about a mile along an unmade track before we came to
what appeared to be and old communist holiday retreat. Passing straight on
through the old buildings, some of which were inhabited, although we have no
way of knowing whether as permanent or holiday homes, some way on we found a
small clearing which had obviously seen previous duty as a camp site and the
remains of an open fire could be seen. It really was a beautiful place to stop!
After the intense heat of the day, stripping off and pouring bucket after
bucket of the ice cold water over our heads was just so refreshing and it set
us up nicely for dinner. It was a particular joy to find as we had intended to
stay on an organised camp site, but after one look at the toilets and showers
which were filthy, we were unanimous in opting for a wild camp (much to the
disgust of the owner).
Morning dawned bright, clear and already warm, we had
decided on a fairly early start back to the monastery to try to beat the
crowds. Arriving at the almost empty car park we were confronted by a sullen
oaf of a man telling us that we couldn’t park there as it was reserved for
coaches. Our queries of alternative parking was met with nothing but shrugs
until he eventually decided we could park at a charge of 10 lev (about 5 Euro)
per bike at which point we left trying hard to run over his toes on the way out!
Parking on the other side of the Monastery we then encountered a Danish guy who
had stayed in the monastery overnight and was shall we say, less than
complimentary about his stay !
I guess the confrontation with the idiot in the car park together
with the crass commercialism of the place had sullied my mood somewhat as I
could take little joy from the beauty of the place, taking just a few
photographs, although I did light a candle for Sam in the church. Even as we
left an hour so later the coaches for which we had to move, had failed to
materialise. Next stop was a small supermarket where we had shopped the
previous day; Taz and Joel were amazed to find that the two Bulgarian brothers
and their father who ran the place, all spoke perfect Spanish, a language in
which they too are fluent. Discussions about the local Hooch, Rakia, elicited
information that they could “obtain” some home distilled for us and we were
calling to collect. Sure enough a 700ml bottle was produced at a cost of just 8
lev (about 4 euro) something to look forward to later! It was then time to head
for the hills once more and away from the intense heat, although that involved
a 40km ride along the main highway to Sofia amongst the homicidal Bulgarian
drivers which was “interesting”!
Our first attempt to get into the hill was blocked by a park
ranger who informed us that the road had a barrier across it some way up to
prevent vehicle access to the national park, so we turned around and headed off
on the road to Borovets, one of Bulgaria’s major ski resorts. We stopped to try
to get some shopping at a small supermarket on the edge of the town, but found
the shelves almost bare, indeed as it was out of season the place was almost
deserted and whilst there were a lot of very modern hotels there, the rest of
the place had a distinctly run down look about it
Joel had spotted a
lake on the map which looked high in the mountains and this was to be our
destination for the day. It took a little bit of searching to find the right
road but once on it we had a great ride into the hills. At one we rounded a
corner to find a raised barrier by the road with a policeman sat beside it,
however he made no attempt to stop us so on we went. Finding a turn off to the left, the direction
of the lake, we took it and not only ended up a dead end, but in front of us
was a huge steel door blocking entry to a bunker in the side of the mountain,
it was to say the least a little spooky! So we beat a hasty retreat back to the
main road and carried on up the mountain. Spotting a concrete road heading off
to our right on the apex of a hairpin bend, or switchback as Joel insists on
calling them , we tried our luck again and surprise, surprise, this time we
found two more bunkers in the mountainside along with a couple of
semi-demolished barrack buildings and a long dead straight concrete road which
on later investigation ran absolutely north – south.
Things were getting spookier by the minute,
when Joel came back from another little track with a huge grin on his face and
beckoned us to follow him. Just round to the side of the buildings he had found
not only a perfect camping spot, but it came complete with a picnic table and
benches built around a huge pine tree, a stone built barbecue AND a spring
dispensing ice cold water right next to the table. Wow, that one will be hard
to top! And it was far enough from the road to mute the sound of the odd
passing car so we spent a blissful night talking, laughing, eating and sipping
Rakia… A little to much Rakia if I’m honest, as I hadn’t blown up my sleep mat
and it seems that I had to get Taz, who had also consumed a little too much, to
blow it up for me as my lips apparently didn’t want to work ! I have absolutely
no recollection of this you understand !!! Then in the middle of the night it
started raining and neither of us had flysheets on our tents. Trying to attach
a flysheet in the rain whilst half-cut and half asleep takes on a new dimension,
but with a little help from my friends it was accomplished well enough to keep
most of the rain off me and I was soon snoring peacefully once more. So this morning saw a rather slower that
usual start to our day, partly due to the Rakia, but mainly due to us waiting
for the tents to dry out in the morning sun which was a little weak as we had
camped at almost 6000ft !
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