From border disputes to bus mishaps, the adventure from Bulgaria to Turkey
The road to Bulgaria
Picture this: You’re on a bus leaving Serbia, and it’s starting to get a little dark outside as you approach the border. Routine procedure—you get off the bus and file through the line to border control, making it to the other side with ease. You look back and see a slight disagreement between a border control officer and a guy from the bus. Suddenly, pistols are drawn, and they’re aiming at each other.
Just kidding—but you believed it for a second, right? In reality, the guy ends up being told to walk back the other way because he’s not allowed to exit Serbia. This takes some time, and as you board the bus and make it to the Bulgarian border, you’re left wondering why he wasn’t allowed to leave the country. Anyway, with him gone, the other border crossing goes a lot quicker since there weren’t too many people on the bus.
Side note: check out the size of the border police dude in the image below. Guess running would be the best option!
At lightning speed, we made it to Sofia, Bulgaria. As we wandered from the bus station in the dark towards our hostel, a man not far ahead of us kept turning around and then picking up the pace. I guess he thought we were following him, which I found amusing. So, naturally, I also picked up the pace, dragging my bag behind me. This dance carried on for a few minutes until he turned off down a street, still looking over his shoulder and watching us with a worried look. I guess I must look scary grinning in the dark!
Checking into Smart Hostel around 9:30 p.m. was a welcome sight (for me, not necessarily for the other guests). We were greeted with a smile by the hostess, who informed us that she was taking the night bus from Sofia to Istanbul in a couple of weeks. We, on the other hand, were going to try and book the night train in the morning for that evening, thinking a night bus would be the worst… (foreshadowing).
The hostel was nothing special, so we were keen to leave and find some food. However, it was around 10 p.m., and most places were closed. We managed to find a Turkish wrap to warm up the taste buds. I would like to note that the cats around Sofia are built differently. I even captured one committing the crime of graffiti—it certainly looked guilty enough!
Returning to the hostel, I decided to unleash my inner ninja (not to sneak attack people) as I tiptoed my way into the dorm to grab some shower stuff and sneak out. A shower after a long bus ride has got to be one of the best feelings. So, when I hopped in and the water started to pool at my feet, I just about threw my head through the wall in frustration. For some reason, I just wanted a clean, normal shower. I decided to clean the drain myself too, which resulted in pulling out what felt like a head’s worth of hair (just glad there wasn’t actually a head attached to it). Why? I don’t know because I instantly regretted my decision, almost gagging while finding the bin. So, after 64 hand washes later, I proceeded to have a nice shower until halfway through when the water turned cold. Nice. Suffice to say, I was ready for bed as I began to watch the movie eyelids.
Night train tickets to Istanbul…
After waking up and devouring some breakfast, it was time to try to get the night train tickets. Not more than 50 meters from the hostel door, lying face down in the dirt was a homeless lady who clearly wasn’t complying with the whole “there’s a policeman shaking you, you should wake up” scenario. As we passed by, she slowly stirred, and another four policemen showed up because this lady was clearly the size of the Incredible Hulk, and that much support was most definitely required…
Making it to the train station to purchase a night train ticket to Istanbul, we were greeted by taxi drivers outside begging for us to take a taxi. Approaching the ticket desk, I could tell English wasn’t going to be much of a thing here. I was right; when I asked if they spoke English, the response was pointing to a couple of ticket booths over. Assuming they could speak some, I approached one of them and was met with a few words, which was enough. Long story short, there were no more tickets available for the night train that evening, and so this is the point we realized it was going to have to be a night bus.
Sitting on a bench in the train station and processing the reality of a 9-hour bus ride this evening instead of a nice night train must’ve looked dodgy. Next thing you know, two policemen approached, asking for IDs, which luckily we had on us. After some checking, they let us carry on with our realisations.
Sitting here a few things were noted:
– Always book the night train at least a day earlier (unfortunately, we couldn’t).
– Always carry some form of ID with you at all times.
– A 9 hour bus ride leaving at 11pm was inbound.
– Bonus note: Night train tickets from Bulgaria to Istanbul at both ends can ONLY be purchased at the station.
– The bus was cheaper than night train, but at what cost?
Exploring Sofia
After the train debacle, an exploration of the city was needed. Luckily, we were able to leave our bags at the hostel until we needed to leave later on that evening, so lugging them around wasn’t an issue.
Sofia is an interesting city, interesting in not such a good way, in my opinion. I found the place quite boring, with not a lot to do and a real lack of energy in the city. A quick Google search of things to do in Sofia directed you straight out of the city and into the mountains or across to neighbouring North Macedonia. Always a great sign when everything is telling you to leave.
So, where did our legs lead us on this adventure? Well, they took us first to a synagogue, which we couldn’t enter, so that was cool… Then, not far from there, we had a gaze at a mosque. This was followed by a drive-by look at the Sofia History Museum, which was the more striking of the two buildings prior. Next, we wandered past the Cathedral of Saint Nedelya, and this is where an interesting event occurred.
Picture this: a real-life soap opera playing out before our eyes (breakup edition). A woman’s voice pierced the air as she unleashed a torrent of screams at her unfortunate what I’m assuming is now ex boyfriend, tears cascading down her cheeks. Meanwhile, he’s desperately attempting to calm the storm, only to be met with declarations of hatred and the dramatic flinging of his phone. It was like witnessing a breakup scene straight out of a movie, right in the middle of the street. Anyway, after definitely not smiling to myself we carried on walking.
Oh, and let’s not forget the McDonald’s pit stop we made in the midst of all this chaos. Surprisingly nestled nearby some ancient ruins dating back longer then I can trace on my family tree, I’m talking Roman times (see image below), reminding us that even fast food joints have their place in history, apparently!
Anyway I’m feeling hungry writing this so back to the McDonalds part. After what felt like an eternity staring at the menu (turns out there was an English side—go figure), I finally placed an order for a wrap. At the counter, the dude taking our order struck up a conversation, asking where we were from. When we inquired about his origins, lo and behold, he was a local, born and raised in Sofia, Bulgaria. Curious, we asked if he liked living there, and his response, with laughter which I will sugar coat for you, was essentially, “Hate it.” Honestly, I’m not Sofia’s biggest cheerleader either, so I couldn’t argue.
Moving right along, we ventured through Woman’s Market—yes, men are welcome too, despite the name (it’s a food and clothing market, folks). Then, we stumbled upon the Church of Saint George, an ancient brick church with ruins in front of it. It was a refreshing change of pace to see something a bit different. As the weather grew increasingly moody, we made our way to the National Theatre, capturing some perfectly moody pictures along the way (all thanks to Uncle Google’s recommendations).
Time for the star of the show in Sofia: the Patriarchal Cathedral of St. Alexander Nevsky. Let me tell you, this cathedral is a masterpiece in every sense of the word. Unfortunately, like most of the places we’ve visited, snapping photos inside was a no-go, but take my word for it, it was truly awe-inspiring. The grand concrete dome lent an air of spirituality, with sound seemingly radiating around us (a quick Google search will give you a taste). And don’t even get me started on the exterior—those golden domes against the backdrop of the grey sky were nothing short of stunning. Take a peek below and see for yourself!
Outside the Cathedral, it seemed like we stumbled upon some sort of military parade. People were dressed to the nines in their sharp red coats, and a red carpet was rolled out, while police and military personnel monitored the grounds behind temporary barriers. My guess? The president was likely going to make an appearance here, given the television crews lined up. Unfortunately, we didn’t stick around long enough to find out, as the weather took a sudden wet turn for the worse. But, I did manage to capture a video of what seemed to be their rehearsal—check it out below and see for yourself!
As the rain started to pour, we sought refuge in our final destination: the Museum of Illusions. Now, you can find these in almost every city, but we hadn’t visited one yet and were starting to feel a bit bored, so we thought, why not? Turns out, it was the best decision ever and quickly became the highlight of our day. With mind-bending illusions (yes, they were actually mind-bending) and intriguing puzzles, it was the perfect way to pass the time before we reluctantly headed back to the hostel to grab our bags.
Ah, I neglected to mention that the walk back after our visit to the Museum of Illusions turned into more of a jog, thanks to the heavens opening up. So making our way from the hostel to the bus station navigating through the pouring rain, it felt less like a stroll and more like a dash through a water park, with water coming at us from all directions. The end result? Well, take a look at the image below and see for yourself.
Nightmare on wheels
So yes, we had made it to the bus station, but it was still raining and the bus wasn’t due for a couple of hours. Now dark, the temperature had dropped as we searched for a place to eat. In a cruel twist of fate, the food places we had seen during the day at the bus station were all shut except for a rather dingy-looking spot where we decided to take our chances. However, it turned out to be a cash-only establishment, and we were short on cash. So, back into the cold we went.
Running out of ideas, we decided to seek shelter in the train station. Luckily, we found some cold pizza. When I say “found,” I mean bought; it’s not like I saw some on the ground and thought, “Yes, this will do.” Although, given my hunger, you never know.
While waiting for the bus, I changed socks and tried to let my jacket dry. Across from us, a bunch of drunk people were openly drinking in the station. This scene quickly changed when police with some big guns (not quite rocket launchers) showed up. They started writing what I assume were fines and searching through some of the bags. This unexpected entertainment helped pass the time until we were finally boarding the night bus bound for Istanbul.
*Insert evil laughter here*. That was most definitely the feeling of being on this bus. Luckily, having packed a few snacks, the bus ride was okay in terms of food. It was a full load of people with different languages flying around. From the start, despite not understanding the conversations, I understood the problem: this bus did not have a toilet, nor was the internet working, both of which were supposed to be available. This was going to be a long ride.
Matters worsened when the inevitable happened and someone needed to use the bathroom. However, the bus driver only spoke Turkish, and with no one else on the bus speaking the language, a girl had to communicate with him via Google Translate. Finally, he agreed to stop for a toilet break. Should be straightforward, right? No.
I also needed the toilet at this point, so when the bus pulled into a gas station, almost half the bus got up to use the facilities. However, the bus driver said only three people could go. Just great. I sat down, thinking of the rain earlier and the noise it made, which only fuelled my need for the bathroom. After three people left, so did four, then five, then six, and I decided to join them.
While waiting for the toilet and chatting with the girl who managed to communicate with the driver, I got a better understanding of the situation. The bus driver was an absolute *insert naughty word here*. After doing my business and hearing the bus driver tooting for everyone to hurry up, I boarded, thankful to have made it back on.
After this, I decided to minimise water intake to reduce the chances of needing the bathroom again. Trying to sleep was an impossible task on the bus as we approached the border.
Making it out of Bulgaria was straightforward, but do you think entering Turkey is a simple hop-off, show your passports, and get back on? No, no, Turkey has to be different. Here, you must take off all your bags, both carry-on and the ones stored under the bus. You then must carry said bags, get your passport checked, and chuck your bags through an X-ray scanner. This border crossing took a long time, but another silver lining was that there was a toilet here I was able to use while waiting, all of this occurring around the fun time of 4 a.m.
Just like my writing about the bus ride, it dragged on as we finally, finally made it into Istanbul. For your viewing pleasure, I took a selfie as we approached the city. WIDE AWAKE.
I’m actually getting tired writing about being tired, so the next post can be all about Istanbul, which starts with getting off the bus groggy-eyed and trying to navigate our way around the bus station to work the public transport to the hostel a long way away. What can go wrong…
Thanks for listening. And before you get smart with the word “listening,” someone might have had Siri read it to them, so there. Anyway, catch you in the next post where the Turkish adventure begins.
Rural Lad Abroad 
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