One Man in Europe

It all started with a ship in more ways than one but I shall talk about that on another post. Today I relate the tale of Bulgarian Naval personnel on parade, senior officers arriving under military police escort and a gathering crowd of civilian spectators waiting on the beach in the vicinity of the "Sea Terrace". Meanwhile not long after 10:00 hours I was sitting comfortably drinking coffee with friends at the "Morki Rei" trying to see the edges of the bay and a few feet into the air. The show was scheduled for 10 but I knew that there was no chance of anything getting off the ground.

The following morning (see previous post) my doorbell rang. My good friend and neighbour from the apartment next door beckoned me to meet him downstairs at 10 for photos. What a coincidence! We had talked about this over a glass of rakia last week when he proposed taking me to a place with a good view of Varna. Unfortunately the trip never took place due to the weather. As I got myself together I wondered if we were going to retrace our footsteps of yesterday. Hopes were raised as we turned left instead of right at the bottom of the street. Driving into the centre of Varna we joined the queue to cross the Asparuhovo Bridge which is again under repair. The bottle neck created during the working week is truly amazing, no quarter given by drivers in Bulgaria!

When I leave my apartment to go to the CBA "magazin" opposite or walk down to the bus stand I often pass the time of day with a Bulgarianwho sits in his car listening to the radio and watching the world go by. "Dobur den", "Ich gehe zum kino", "Kak si?"...  - "Good Morning", "I am going to the cinema", "How are you?" - the conversation haltingly exchanged in  a little Bulgarian, German and English. On occasion he will open the passenger door and I will sit and share his time. He is a pensioner in his 70s existing on 200 leva per month as do most of my neighbours who are not working. On this occasion I was passing with supplies for my fridge so declined his company. Having stored my provisions I changed my mind and returned to pass some time with him. "Ah, navigator." he said as I climbed into the passenger seat, reaching across to make sure that my door was closed and prompting the fastening of my seat be

Did you know that the Canary Islands, of which Tenerife is one of seven,  way out there in the Atlantic somewhere off the coast of North Africa is actually a province of Spain.  I had visited Spain for a month in July and August way back in 1970 as a guest of the Spanish Air Force under the regime of General Franco. This was the first "International Air Cadet" visit to the country and gave an insight to a county where civil rather than international war had moulded recent history, a fact wasted on us youths as we were more overawed by the scenery and the romance of the place.