devetnayset

‘Back to life, back to reality’ Soul 2 Soul once told me, and in fairness, they weren’t wrong. The journey, from our little bubble in the middle of rural Bulgaria to the bright lights of Brackley, via the world’s most beautiful town Luton, has been a bit of a shock. Met by driving wind and rain, and a particularly depressing social atmosphere, it’s safe to say that reality is biting pretty hard. As suspected, we picked a great time to return to look for work.

So what have we left behind? How does our progress compare to the realities of deadlines and our plan to get back to ‘normal’ life in 2009? Am I now a hairy builder, capable of renovating an old cottage, or am I simply a man with a penchant for showing off acres of ass crack? It’s time for a bit of reflection.

Back in March we had dreams of completing the major works this year, even allowing ourselves to believe that we might be in a position to inhabit the place by the end of the year. In that respect we have failed. However, having lived and breathed renovation since April, I will never see it as failure. In fact I feel very proud of what we have achieved this year (cue back patting all round and maybe a quick solo frenchy). And besides, we’re not as far off as it may have seemed a couple of months ago, to the extent that if I go back next spring (to do all the external lime rendering) I should be able to live there in reasonable comfort, if a bit dustily.

Like all the best porn stars the place is now as good as air tight; we can secure the place against stray goats by locking doors (yes doors, I know extravagant huh); the windows open and close and have reinvigorated the façade; the rain and snow is now directed away from the building and it’s foundations via new drainage and guttering; the old, leaky roof has been replaced with a new, less leaky roof without the complete loss of character; it’s almost possible to walk around without clothing your feet in 100 yr old mud, up stairs and down thanks to new floors; I can take a shit!

The day before we came home the house was connected to the mains electricity supply for the first time in 40 years. Better still, the wiring and new fuse box (installed by us) all seem to work – see:

 

Wooo hooo – who got the power… not Pete Tong anymore that’s for sure.

The plumbing is also dangerously close to completion. Toilet, sink and bath are all fitted, in the new bathroom, complete with new cess pit to deal with the waste. Following a minor mishap, there is now a supply of water within the house (not just by bucket from the floor). Hopefully, washing will soon become less of a novelty and I can get back to normal, grimier service.

Our beautiful barn has been saved from almost certain ruin after a complete re-roofing exercise and is now custodian of all our sustainable building materials (straw, stone, reclaimed oak etc.).

Ok, so there’s still a bit of ‘decorating’ to do and maybe a kitchen and some internal stairs are a luxury worth having, but in reality much of the hard work is done. That’s not to say that once these ‘minor’ improvements have been made that we can forget about it, this is definitely a building which will require ongoing care and attention if we want to avoid a re-run 5 years down the line. But hopefully, what we have achieved this year will mean that the house is better prepared for the future.

But it’s not all about the house. Beautiful as it is, I didn’t go to Bulgaria for altruistic or building conservation reasons; I went to escape, to have a change of scene, to sort myself out. When we set out back in the spring of 2007 I had some very clear ideas about what I wanted to achieve: learn a few new skills and become a little less dependant upon tradesmen to bail me out when my merkin  gets trapped down the bog; experience sustainable construction first hand – to put some of the theory into practice; have an adventure and live somewhere completely different – preferably cheap; do something by myself, to prove I could and without sounding too Riki Lake about it, try to revaluate my priorities, which at the time, working all out to make big developers lots of cashish at the expense of most other things, I felt was very necessary.

Having been back 3 days or so, it is probably a little early to make claims about feeling liberated, or having had a life changing experience (lets face it, we’ve all had plenty of potentially life changing experiences – but they are only actually life changing if some change comes of it), but I do feel like a slightly different person to the one who left for eastern Europe. Don’t get me wrong, I still like Mr T, but I no longer have to live by his rules… work that one out Raj Persaud. Deep.

I’ve certainly managed to dip my toe into the more the practical side of things. I am now a ‘maestro’ (in the Bulgarian meaning of the word*) of plumbing, electrics, carpentry, masonry and mud removals. I can now retile roofs, wire an entire house, fit a waste water system, build mud and stone walls and even saw wood straight! I am Handy freekin Andy, hopefully without the cheeky boy demeanour and mockney accent with a rather unhealthy obsession with MDF and Carol Smiley (which is more worrying?). * (Traditionally a highly skilled craftsman but now often used to describe an unreliable bodger/cowboy depending on the quality of the work and pre-midday rakia consumption).

 I’ve certainly had a bit of an adventure and managed to live incredibly cheaply as I’m sure my previous posts will testify (Tesco value award goes to Mania’s 2.3kg pizza for £3). I have also had the chance to deliberate, research and test out green building verses modern building techniques – I mean how many houses do you know with 4 types of insulation in the loft for goodness sake? So I guess all in all, it has been a success… I’m certainly looking forward to going back to finish off if, but only if MacDonalds pay as well as I hope- they’ve got to have a few vacancies surely?

Well, After that piss poor excuse for soul searching I’m off now to de-lice the murkin, Vessela koleda e novo godina to all.

ps: mixwit has been done in by the powers that be, so my soundtrack will be dying shortly... make the most of it while it lasts... mother hubbards

osemnayset

Having spent the morning packing my stuff, it's starting to hit home that I might not want to leave the delights of Bulgaria for the comfort of home just yet. Sure, I haven't sat on a sofa for 9 months, I've nearly forgotten how to read and write with the latin alphabet, my wardrobe is becoming dominated by hand-me-down maroon woolen jumpers and I've become someone who eats salad and then claims to have enjoyed it, but, when it comes down to it, it actually feels normal... like it's never been any different.

This year has definitely been vastly different to last, not least due to the length of time we have spent here this time, but also because we now have much more of a life here than before. My most frequent conversations are still with 8o year old men and women, usually about those 'damn gypsy bastards' who dare to sit and enjoy a beer down the local bar or how best to pickle a carrot, but I also have a few mates kicking around in town who don't just sit around the village in their pants swearing at people, wearing their dirty t-shirts rolled up at nipple height; I mean young people, well, young in an under 40 kind of way, young enough to know that night clubs and tequila aren't necessarily products of the devil and that wine actually comes in bottles, not just boxes, or old coke bottles. They still think a mobile phone holster and novelty ring tones are acceptable, but we'll work on the little things later. Yep, it's safe to say that Sam and I are becoming more and more akin to the bulgarian way of life. It certainly beats sitting around in an office all day trying to ignore the serial bores surrounding you on all sides before going home, to barricade yourself indoors, just in case someone from the 'outside' tries to contact you right in the middle of I'm a celebrity and I'm starved of attention. Sam is a regular at the local market, where she is quizzed daily on the goings on in with the house building in Burya; I've been given chocolates from building suppliers on their birthday when I pop in to get a new pipe for our leaky plumbing; a waitress who served you 3 weeks ago says hi when she sees you in the street... its weird... it's like people actually want to speak to you, to get to know you! Of course I keep the british end up - tell them to fuck awf and provide two of the finest, vertically. The freaks. Cant wait for a trip to a good old Welcome Break or Tesco Extra, thats real service.

The other big positive from this years' skive has been the progress at the house. Not that we have gotten anywhere near the finish line, but I would certainly say that we're on the home straight. Piss poor photos and tedious descriptions to follow when I have time, but suffice to say I can now take a dump, at night, then wash, then lock myself out. Pretty cool I'm sure you'll agree?

Right, I'm off to eat another 2.4kg pizza to celebrate my return to frozen Britain next weekend... might also have a few rakias and wear my phone on the belt... smooooth.

as they say here: za ginite, konite e tecnika esdatchi - e leka nosht

oh, and by the way - any danger you could sign up (see the link to the right) - I currently have 0 followers and am feeling bit hurt quite frankly... twats.

Also, see my new photoblog (link also to the right) which is the beginnings of a pictorial history of my adventure into poverty.