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.

most horrible thing you will ever see

Last week we had a surprise visit from the best selling alternative lifestyle magazine Gay Times, who had heard what we were doing and wondered whether they could use the house as the backdrop for their '09 calender shoot. Seeing as I had told myself that one of the rules for coming to Bulgaria was to say "yes" to as many offers as possible, just to see where I'd end up, how could I refuse?


My rules have now been revised: say "no" to everything, especially if it involves narcissistic men and pick axes - nasty:

sedemnayset i polovin

Thats 17 and a half for those of you who cant keep up.

Thanks again to the barbarian for his insight into our little world (see post below) and indeed for his help in that rainy week in September. He was a hero, even if he did lose the pizza competition.

It's been hot again for the last week or two, so all thoughts of woolly jumpers, rain and an imminent winter have all but disappeared along with the lettuce at the market. I have realised that it has been months since I last posted anything significant, let alone interesting, so will try to make it up with another fascinating tale of adventure in the former eastern block - failing that I'll make something up... again.

Although i'm still in my shorts it's becoming decidedly autumnal at the moment; scrumping for apples, making home brew, stomping grapes for wine and chucking conkers at stray cats (got one worth a 6er in my collection if anyone wants a challenge - got to be better than scrabbulous? - could call it catkers maybe?). The crazy Bulgars are brewing like mad at the moment in preparation for a drunken and therefore relatively painless winter; with homemade wine and brandy top of the menu accompanied by some particularly nasty sounding pickles (soured cucumbers in brine being a potential hazard in the coming months). The markets are pretty well stocked too, although only if you like peppers and cauliflower... see:


In reality, the fruit and veg markets here are outstanding. My particular favourite is in Sevlievo, our long forgotten home here between April and August last year. Every Friday, the local area converges upon the town which is taken over by market traders, dirty gypos and carnival folk who try to sell you just about anything to make ends meet including home made axes, huge knickers, home modified motorised pedal bikes or that bit of pipe you need to fix the radiator in't downstairs bog. The fruit and veg section is particularly brilliant with up to 40 stalls all selling exactly the same goods (see above). Furthermore, the houses next to the market are transformed into fast food heaven/hell as the locals feast on barely cooked meatballs and cold chips (which I shouldn't sneer at too much as I am also a regular these days). Sevlievo pazar is one of the regions highlights in my opinion; I imagine it to be as close to real life time travel, without the requirement for a Delorean and with more pensioners pushing in front of you.

So anyway - apart from swanning about at the market what have we been up to? Well piss loads actually. Since my last proper post we have:

- Sold off Sam's mum to Bob the fisherman in Cornwall (congratulations again to you both);
- Been sick at aforementioned wedding to commemorate the day;
- Had Clayson over to stay in Gabrovo, built a french drain, ate a meatball fantasy, went to the house of humour and satire, and polished off a pizza bigger than a premature baby;
- Had a surprise visit from Danny Coward (friend from school who i havent seen in 10 years) and girlfriend Krista who are cycling from London to Tibet (foolish) http://www.ridehimalaya.com/blog/;
- Been on the dodgems where head to head collisions are encouraged (Sevlievo Pazar again, brilliant!);
- Put up our guttering and facia boards on the house and fixed the roof ready for winter; and
- Negotiated two new, bespoke doors to secure the house with a local chippy, in Bulgarian no less.



So all is going well.

With a UK (alright world) recession under way, we have also been preparing ourselves for life in the UK with no money. As such I am now the proud owner of some pretty snazzy new (ok second hand) threads which, bought by the kilo, turned out to be super cheap, if a bit 'last season'. You'll all be right jealous when I get home. Taking orders for x-mas jumpers, leather jackets and ski wear if you're keen - might start an internet shop to ship them all back to Western Europe, which is where most of them have come from in the first place! Forget the spoons and knives, thats what I call irony Alanis you twat.

Until next time - ciao ciao i lek den