A Bugger of a Border Run

The advertised trip to Greece will be postponed and substituted by a second run to Plovdiv, Bulgaria due to a lack of buses to Alexandropoulos on a Thursday.

Ok. At least we know what we are doing this time. I got some tickets. Organised the posse and got there on time at nine am.

We hit the road on time and made it to the border in record time. There was a bus in front of us and got in the queue and waited.

Twenty minutes… Half an hour… An hour…. No one seemed to know why. The Jendarms rocked up and everyone rushed back to there cars and we were off.

Stamped out of Turkey, we were in the land of duty free. Yay!! We got some beers and fags and waited to get into Bulgaria.

An hour… two hours… more beers… three hours… should have brought some cards… four hours… this is getting ridiculous… five hours… more border-land food…

Five and a half hours, a dozen beers and we were through the border. It was gone nine pm. We still have no idea what the problem was. Computer error? A lack of ink? Insufficient bribes?

We were back on the road anyway. Not more than twenty minutes in, a car pulled up in front of the bus and pulled it over. A policeman got out and there was a brief discussion with the bus “steward”.

She goes with the cop back to the border. W.T.F? The bus continued at about three kms an hour. We were obviously going slowly so she could catch up with us when she got back.

That she did after about an hour and we were off again, at a reasonable speed. We suspect that there was some unsigned document that needed her attention. Anyway, we were back on the road.

Now, the bus is equipped with a fully functioning toilet, apparently. However, you are forbidden to use it. Due to the number of infants on board, we were making frequent pee-stops.

This was the next hold up. While one woman was out on the squat, her passport fell out of her back pocket. So, half the bus got off to help with the search. Would you believe it?

We got into Plovdiv, it was well past midnight. We hailed a passing cab who took us to Happy’s in the downtown, the sight of 3 Lev gins, cheap pork meals and waitresses with the skimpy mini skirts.

It was 12.55 am. They close at one. Tired and hungry, we forgot our dreams of pig flesh and set off to find a bed and anything to eat.

We got to the big hostel in the centre of town. No beds.

We found a late night eating establishment and had cold pizza in a back alley off the main strip. The Bulgarian after us had his heated in the microwave… bastards!

Oh well, better than starving. I had heard of another hostel on the internet. I left the tired party and set off on recognisance. I found the Hikers Hostel up a hill in the old town.

Sanctuary. There were just enough beds to go around and cold beers at one Lev a throw. Brilliant.

The next morning we had a traditional eastern European breakfast of white bread, sausage, cheese and ham (mmm pig flesh). I met an Australian there who was from Karrinyup, the next suburb from where I grew up. Then we hit the road for Happy’s.

Here we enjoyed bacon, pork, double breakfast gin and tonics (and the micro-mini skirts) before heading back to the bus station.

On the way back we managed to take in at least one of the sights. A roman amphitheatre was being set up for a local rendition of Othello and we got to have a peak at the stage before the pork feast.

On the way to the train station, we found half litres of (drinkable) whiskey for 5.2 Lev. Six times cheaper than Istanbul.

More beers and we were back on the bus for home, which thankfully, went with out incident.

I got my visa without him even looking at my passport and we were back in time to ensure that we got in time to get hardly enough sleep for work the next morning.

Not the anticipated holiday, but an adventure none the less.