And then there were three. Back to Borovets again this year, Me, Stu and introducing Tim.
Saturday – Yo ho ho and a bottle of jizz.
Flying from Manchester once again this year and as I collect Stu he's in a foul mood. He's been looking at the webcams and snow reports constantly over the past week and they're all saying the same thing. No snow. Dammit. We both remember the barren, snowless Bansko of last year as we load the car and set off. The mood doesn't get any better when we hear on the radio that an overturned lorry has blocked the motorway at the same instant as we hit the traffic jam.
Stu needs cheering up, so I present him with the 'Ski-A-Thong' t-shirt I’d bought for him a few weeks back. It makes him sadder.
Things improve though, and rest of the journey is fairly painless. On arrival in Sofia we’re delighted to see that Natalie is our Thomson’s rep as we know her from a few previous visits. We chat to her on the bus as Stu reveals the bottle he ran away to buy in Sofia airport. It's clear and we assume it’s vodka, but the label reads something like ‘Jezzun’ which we immediately re-dub ‘jizz’ and spend the rest of the transfer in immature giggles.
We're staying at the Bor Hotel this year, a second visit for me, but the first time for Stu, and he goes quiet.
Stu - Something seems familiar about this place and I can’t quite put my finger on it. When we walk through the door onto our level I stare down this long and very dimly lit corridor, I expect to see two small figures standing at the end, staring right at me with a voice booming down the hall "Come play with us Stu...forever...and…ever...and ever", this IS the overlook hotel from the Shining, I’m convinced!
It’s lovely, really. Warm, clean rooms, cheap bar, and an ok dining room by Borovets standards. The only thing that counts against it is its location, about ten or fifteen minutes walk away from the resort centre and lifts/gondola. But then again, if you fancy a bit of peace and quiet that might be in its favour.
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| View from the Bor (with no snow!) |
We bounce out onto the street and take that walk up to the resort talking of times past. We've heard of a new pub this year, one called the Alpina, which is run by a couple called Amiee and Arie who have been active on the forums we use, so we hunt it down. It's easy to find, being opposite the Flora and Breza hotels on one of the main streets, but it's in darkness and locked. We walk on round to Franco’s to visit Tommy the barman and to check that my old snowboard is still on the roof. It is, and Tommy, the bad, bad man gives us a few drinks to celebrate.
We have a long night and Stu gets himself lost a bit, but by morning we're all present and correct, if badly badly hungover! Never drink Jizz!
Sunday - Welcome back to the jungle, Introducing Tim and there’s no porn on this telly!
My phone is ringing and ringing and ringing. I answer and hear a familiar voice swearing at me.
Sleep
It’s ringing again, more swearing.
Sleep
And again, lots more swearing. I’m starting to swim out of the glue. OH SHIT! TIM!
Tim Sandys is an artist, photographer, web designer, tattoo designer, piercer and master of as many other creative pursuits as you care to mention. He’s also a great friend of mine and many months before I’d mentioned Borovets to him as the place to be this winter. He’d agreed and although he was too late to join us on the Thomson’s flight he’d found one from Luton and got a lovely apartment from Koolski in Samakov Town. We’d arranged to meet in front of the Samokov Hotel at around 8am. That was over an hour ago. FUCK!
At my behest he’d travelled to London, to Sofia, to Samakov, got up early, got kitted out, and was now standing in front of a strange hotel, in a strange town, in a strange country and we were not there to meet him.
Head down through a combination of hangover and guilt we shuffle up to him very, very late and mumble our apologies. Luckily he too relieved to kill us just yet.
After a hunt in the hotel, we find Natalie who gives Stu and I our lift passes and by way of an apology we take Tim for his first ever Chocolate Brandy. We’re tickled by the guy who recognises our accents and shouts, “Ahh Scottish, a Cheerz a big earz” So we have our drinks in the pub he’s touting for.
Stu is checking that all his money, belongings and limbs are still all accounted for after last night, but his adventure is already becoming a butt for our jokes.
"There’s a dog out front that can hardly walk...are you sure you weren’t responsible?"
"Ahh, holiday romance."
Another grovelling apology to Tim and he’s forgiven us enough to be alone in a gondola pod with him and not murder us, so we head for the queue and run into the lovely Tanny from the skidvd and Bulgaria ski forums. We chat away but Tanny is more concerned with the fact that Stu has no jacket and nothing on under his fleece! We hadn’t noticed this until now.
“You'll die up there! Go get your jacket there’s plenty of time.”
"It’s cool, I'll be fine."
"Really, seriously, go get your jacket!" Tim, Tanny and me yell this in unison. Would he listen?! Of course we get to the top and it’s a gorgeous day and Tim and I eventually take our jackets off too, but Stu got off lightly! We go across to the green on top of the mountain for a warm up and as usual Stu is pounced on by the guys with cameras and furry, smelly costumes. He must give off a ‘big green frog’ or ‘bad Shrek costume’ pheromone or something.
Stu has a brand new board this season and can’t quite get used to it. Tim, who is on skis, is also a bit shaky on the first few runs so we slowly make our way back to the resort and decide once down the mountain is enough before lunch. During three cannibal pizza’s in Franco’s Stu and I argue about his binding set up and I set about them with a screwdriver
“Look you fool! There’s NO WAY that will work.”
“Trust me and try it”
Debating whether or not we’d just ate human flesh, I mean, why else would they call it a cannibal pizza, we head up to the Rila slopes for a few runs. The sun is worryingly hot.
“Well. How are your bindings now Stu?”
“Sigh” head low “better”
Tim’s feeling a bit more confident now and fancies something with ‘some teeth’ so I take him up on the 4 man chair while Stu stays at the bottom to get used to his new board. As the chair lift gets moving Stu rattles me with a snowball. Direct hit and from quite a distance. Impressive, but still a git.
Five or six runs down the Rila slopes later we assemble again and make our way to the Bor. We're moaning about how much of a pain it's going to be to haul our boards back and forth to the hotel every day as we walked with Tim into ‘Hunters’ a pub, restaurant and ski centre next to a place called the Chalet Iskar. Tim was hiring his gear from there and Chris, the man in charge, wasn’t slow in offering Stu and I board storage at 20 lev for the week. Boards ‘safe’ (see later!) we have a quick one in Hunter’s, meeting the owners of Chalet Iskar, Fraser and Sarah, who tell us everyone from the forums we use are up in the Alpina Bar so in due course meet people we've been chatting to for months and of course meet the Alpina owners Arie and Aimee who were fantastic to us all the whole week.
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| Arie and Aimee |
We’d known for a while that a lot of people from both the skidvd and bulgariaski website forums were going to be here this week. In fact we’d booked this week deliberately because of that. The main event of the week was going to be a 'ski-a-thong' which was to be quite literally a man skiing in a thong to raise money for a local orphanage, but by the time the date rolled around people on both forums had really rallied to the cause had there was a weeks worth of events scheduled to raise money. The whole story and the aftermath are detailed elsewhere on skidvd and bulgariaski forums so I won’t go into it here, but at the time it was a gathering of people with a like mind. Ski or snowboard, drink and raise a few quid for a good cause!
Back in the Bor we catch up on all the gossip from our rep and pal Natalie, and in a weird reversal we don’t book any of the trips, bar crawls or pub quizzes, but she agrees to join us for our Poker night tomorrow!
Off to the Titanic Bar, via a food place called The Black Cat where we have another round of pizzas, Tim and I looking rather dubiously at Stu’s scary looking 'chilli surprise’. He’ll regret that later! In the Titanic Bar we meet many more internet buddies. It’s a busy night and the Titanic have agreed to donate some of the profits to the ski-a-thong collection, so we have a drink to that!
Much later, Tim grabs a taxi back to Samakov town as Stu and I make it, safely, back to the Bor where Stu starts banging the telly.
“There’s no porn on this!”
“WHAT!?”
Disappointed we end the day watching Family Guy in Bulgarian which gives us The Fear a bit.
Monday - Ring of Fire, Dead Horses and Late Night Poker
Up and awake at 8.30 as Tim breezes into the room, correctly assuming that we’ll sleep in again and doesn’t want to spend his holiday waiting for us.
Breakfast in the Bor, with Tim sneaking in as a resident. He then has a crisis of conscience and offers to pay the waiter for his soggy cakes and mystery meat. The waiter’s a bit taken aback but plucks the figure of 20 lev out the air to feed Tim for the week. Bargain.
Up the hill to the resort and Stu gets a few runs in at the Rila as Tim and I head for the gondola.
Stu - Damn this is icy. I head to Franco’s for a drink and wait for the sun to soften everything up a bit. After a day my bindings are feeling much better but I don’t fancy falling when it’s this hard. Luckily it thaws a bit and I have a few great wee runs.
Tim and I have a great morning over on the Markudjik side of the resort with a pile of the skiers and boarders we met last night in the Alpina and Titanic Bar, which is marred slightly by that elastic twang-you-up-the-mountain thing they call a poma. (Thankfully after this season it was replaced by a chairlift.) We then have an amazing run right from the summit down to gondola mid-station. The lower Yastabrets runs are all closed but I must admit I was very tempted to give them a go nonetheless. Fortunately I didn’t succumb to temptation … according to a few people who did, the snow ran out fairly quickly leaving a hell of a hike to the bottom. We gondola down to meet Stu instead.
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| Tim and I .. lunch after a busy morning. |
We have lunch together and spend the afternoon on the Rila side, but as there’s not a lot of snow half of the runs are closed, clogging up the few runs that are remaining open. Earlier than we usually would, we leave the boards and skis in Hunters and Tim has his first ever ride in a horse taxi as we head back to the Bor. Tim tells us a story that on the taxi ride to Samakov Town last night he actually saw a horse being shot!
“WHAT!”
Tim - Seriously, we were driving past a paddock with a lot of men crowded round a horse, I looked away and heard a bang, looked back and it had crumpled to the ground. The taxi driver had a look, looked in the rear view mirror at me and said, ‘ah poor horse’.
We take a moment’s sad refection before the absurdity hits us and we start giggling. By the time we’re at the Bor, the guy was dressed as Shrek with a gun and a camera. Welcome to Bulgaria! 10 leva! You kill my horse! Smile! 10 leva!
Since my last visit to Bulgaria I have, with Tim, got into Poker in a serious way, so we decided that why should a week in a foreign country deny us our weekly fix? We’d arranged a game over the internet and had a few interested parties. One of the posters from the skidvd forums wanted to bring his 15 year old son and we stupidly agreed. Most of the night he wiped the floor with us!
All of us, including our rep Natalie, ended up having about five or six sit-and-go’s, short games low buy-ins and Stu was delighted to actually win one, having only just learned the game. The great thing about it was that everybody who won a game took their buy-in money back, bought a round of drinks and put the rest in the ski-a-thong charity box. No one was prompting this; it just happened so we not only had a great night, we raised a few lev. And to top it off, God Bless Aimee of the Alpina, who, after a night out with her pals (Arie stayed to play) came back to the game in her pub with an armful of kebabs for us!
Tim grabs a taxi back to Samakov and as we wander back to the Bor it steams past us as we hear him shout, “10 leva, you kill my horse, very good.”
Tuesday - The Surreal Morning and the missing board.
Tim gives us a slightly later alarm call than yesterday by walking into the room, gagging, and walking out again.
“This room smells of ass and death! Open the balcony window.”
In the words of Hunter S. Thompson "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro", and it only gets worse when we pass a locked door in the Bor with the sign, “Funny Game Room” and start to speculate what must be in there. It's either an old, old clown or a man with a horse and a gun. To top off the weirdness of the morning I order an omelette in the Happy Duck called ‘The Slave To Your Desire.’ Then it all gets a bit more serious.
I love my snowboard. I bought it in Borovets a few seasons back, to replace the one that now lives nailed to the roof of Franco’s because that one had it’s entire toe side edge ripped out during an exciting and painful few moments on mountain. I thought that I’d be better off buying, as I was going to be back out to Bulgaria later in the season and didn’t fancy paying for a hire board for both the remainder of this week and the next week I’d be out. Also I’d paid for the carriage, had a perfectly decent pair of bindings that had survived unscathed and really didn’t want to end up with a random scratched piece of wood that the hire guys might give me. I spent that afternoon a few seasons ago wandering round the equipment shops until I saw it. It was the right size, the right width, the right price and it had a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it. Ok, it was a few lev more than the right price, but it had a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it! A Tie Interceptor in fact! I’ve looked after it and treasured it ever since. This doesn’t go in the loft over the summer, it goes on the wall.
We’re still giggling about clowns as we saunter into Hunters to collect our gear. Only there’s a big empty gap between Stu’s board and Tim’s skis. Where my board should have been. My lovely board with a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it!
Chris from Hunters is nothing but sweetness and light as I have a major meltdown. We establish that no-one has been in here that he doesn’t know and the most probable scenario (and he turns out to be correct) is that a group taking lessons have come in here to be kitted out, and someone has lifted it, thinking it to be a hire board.
ARRRRRRGH. There are no numbers written on it, it has a pair of this season's Burton Mission bindings and a brand new leash/ski lock. It’s not a bloody hire board.
I go off with Chris to the hire depot at the Flora to get a replacement board for the day, and after making them sharpen it, wax it and adjust its bindings Stu and Tim have disappeared. I can’t blame them… I was in there for ages trying to find something decent that I could ride on, but never actually did. There’s a top tip, there really is no substitute for your own gear!
Tim’s off up the gondola having a brilliant day at the top of the mountain flying about off-piste and I’m messing around on the Rila slopes with a bit of wood that I just can’t get to grips with. It’s too small, too light and too crap to do anything with, so when I bump into Stu we have a half-hearted run or two then start drinking!
We head down to Hunters and there it is … my snowboard … looking at me as if to say, “what?” I rush to it, inspect it thoroughly and I’m happy to report it had survived it’s ordeal on another persons feet. It lives in a cupboard in Hunters from now on!
The board’s return perks me up a bit, so over a few drinks sitting outside Hunters I start to noise up Tim on the walkie-talkie as he makes his way down in the gondola. He’s in a packed gondola pod with five other people, and as in a lift with strangers, it’s silent. Except for me on the walkie-talkie. “Tim, I saw that dog Stu said he didn’t shag, but it really looked at him funny.” “How’s your ass by the way, feeling any better?”, and getting into the surreal spirit of the day, “The chicken has no claws, repeat the chicken has no claws.” And so on until he manages to get it out his back pack and switch it off.
A kip, a shower and a walk later, we’re in Katy’s having some of the best food you’ll ever get in Borovets, then on to Franco’s for the noisiest beer. We’re working up to our trip round to the Alpina Bar where tonight’s 'ski-a-thong' fundraiser, the Curry-Oke has been going on all night. The joint was jumping. Bob from the forums starts shouting, ‘There’s Only One Kaminitsa!’ to Stu (his name on the forums is Kaminitsa Stu) as we walk in, and I’m immediately handed the microphone to give Billy Ray Cyrus another good kicking. It’s a superb night with great songs from all the familiar faces from the forums and an American Pie duet we could have done without! We stumble out at stupid o’clock and Tim heads home, but Stu and I, with Bob and his wife Caroline, and a few other forumites head off to somewhere still open. I’m devastated to see that the “Obey the Big Sheep” sign is no more (See our 2006 report) It’s gone on to pastures new.
Wedensday – Pain, Poker and Grandma Hands.
We’re nursing varying degrees of hangovers this morning while sitting at Bar Joy next to the bottom of the gondola trying to order breakfast. Thing is, someone here has decided to name all the food after movies and TV shows but there’s no rhyme nor reason to it … should we have the X Files Toast or the Medal of Honour Burger? Maybe even simply cheese: peasant style? It’s actually not as bad as some menus I’ve seen, with, in no particular order, ‘Unknown Fish of the Pacific’, ‘Ant in a tree’, and the simply brilliant, ‘Plate of Spawn’.
After some Shindler’s List Bacon Rolls or something, we’re up top doing a few circuits down to the mid-station and back up again, but then Stu has a bit of a bad tumble.
Stu - I got a bit cocky heading down to the mid station and fell, badly bashing my coccyx on some ice which pretty much messed me up for the rest of the week. It’s my own fault for not bringing impact shorts, I did the same thing last year in Bansko, I have bruises on my inside leg, my arms, my hands, my feet are bleeding and blistered, my bum is sore. Oh and a little whiplash too. I head to Franco’s for beer and painkillers.
Tim and I meet up with Bob and Caroline and spend the rest of the day cruising around with them, filming each other and having a carry on.
Stu - In the afternoon I brave the lower Rila slopes again, taking it very easy for fear of pain, but the runs I have towards the end of the day are my best yet, the snow was soft and sugary from about half past 3 onwards and the slopes were nice and empty, I’m feeling much happier. The skiers seemed to be finding it a bit difficult, but the boarders were handling it fine.
I head off to the Apina Bar at 5pm feeling tired, but happy, and maybe a little sun burned, beer is probably the worst thing for me, but hey-ho its only 1 lev. It has been 12 degrees today and we really need more snow! I see Tim and TK walk past and bellow at them at such a high decibel level it almost blew the people over sitting at the surrounding tables!
Dinner and a quick kip and we’re back up in the Alpina for another game of poker. All the participants from the last one really wanted to do it again so we arrange it for 9pm tonight. True to form we turn up at 9.40.
Damn Mimi, the barmaid from the Alpina, is a mean player. And I don’t mean, ‘mean’ as in skilled, I mean, ‘mean’ as in downright nasty! She keeps getting up to serve some of the remaining customers and is quiet, petite and polite, but give her some cards and she’ll bet the pot, shouting, ‘So, what ya gonna DO?!’ at you… and the language!
Stu is getting the brunt of it as he’s the only player left in, and at long last they decided to split the winnings and we start another game. Arie has locked the Alpina doors by now, but at the last minute we’re joined by two guys from Israel who had seen us playing the other night and wanted in. The more the merrier.
The guys don’t speak much English, but they can play cards. One of them wins a bit pot and high fives his mate shouting "Waaaayne Rooooneeey!” Apparently they’d been watching the football the other night and people kept shouting this when there was a goal … they thought it was some sort of celebration … so of course we all start doing it when we win a hand. Stu, wins again (DAMN IT, he’s only just learned to play!) with trip Aces.
The overall winner has to be the beer, as we’re finding it hard to keep track of the game now. Mimi is moaning that she has old grandma hands (What, in a bag behind the bar?) and Tim tells a story about his own grandmother boiling her telephone in the soup. The cards and chips are abandoned as we drink and laugh into the early hours.
Thursday – Horse Taxi Smell and that fecking French tower.
More of the same today, with Stu sticking to the lower slopes, Tim and myself going up top for something a bit steeper. Stu’s still in a lot of pain from yesterday’s fall, but keeps at it and puts a few miles under his board, especially when we get a small dusting of snow.
Stu’s asleep in front of the TV when we get back, and we wake him up as we blunder in, but in a few minutes we’re all dozing whilst watching some Bulgarian pop channel. Up and out, via the chicken kebab stall, for tonight’s ski-a-thong quiz for which we turn up an hour early. We spend the extra time having a few in the Alpina then take some tasteful pictures of ourselves in front of, and interacting with, the huge sign behind Boni’s strip club.
An hour ago, the Silver Eagle, the venue for tonight’s quiz, was empty. Now it’s almost standing room only and we’re lucky to get a few seats together. We call ourselves, ‘Horse Taxi Smell’ and put up a great show, tying for first with the team made up of the owners of the Ski DVD website. I get nominated to answer a tie-breaker about the height of the Eiffel Tower … for some reason I thought its height had something to do with the year it opened, so I put 1889 ft. … almost doubling its size and ruining our chances, sorry guys.
All is forgiven as the guys buy me beer in the Alpina a bit later on, then take them away again after I get hold of the karaoke microphone. I thought Caroline and I did a fine job of Paradise by the Dashboard Light, but Stu wasn’t so sure. Tim heads back to Samakov Town as the Alpina closes but as Stu, myself and a few other forumites walk past Boni’s we all slip on the ice and fall in. Quick pint then.
On the walk back home we realise that for the first time on this holiday we’re bloody freezing. A day before we leave and the temperature has dropped like a stone … just in time for the ski-a-thong too.
Friday - Kilts, tights, thongs, oh my.
Tim bursts in and shouts that it’s snowing like mad at the top of the mountain, so I’m up and into a taxi before Stu could say, ‘shut up, I’m staying in bed!’
We have a few great runs before being herded off the mountain as the gondola shuts for the day, bugger!
It was the day of the ski-a-thong and I’d chucked my kilt into my backpack as an after-thought, but I honestly didn’t fancy a trip down the mountain in it, especially as a ‘true’ Scotsman, but what with the gondola closure and warm weather the event has been moved to one of the smaller Rila slopes. Tim and I have met up with Stu by this time and we’re having lunch with some of the other forum users on tables by the bottom of the run. I’m still internally debating about doing this, when at the next table I overhear a very young lad pleading with his parents to do the run in his pants. That’s all the inspiration I need, if he can do it, so can I! I de-salopette myself, get the kilt on, and subtly get out of everything underneath. Holy moly, this is going to be cold.
Stu - As TK gets his bits out in public, I look away, up at the run they’re going to use. There’s a race coming up and my blood boils when I realise that they have been using the snow cannons, but for the race and the race alone. The fact that they have the means to improve the conditions dramatically and they simply could not be bothered to flick a switch made me want to vomit blood.
I make my way to the bottom of the run and assemble with the other people in varying degrees of fancy dress and, well, un-dress. Unwittingly my naked ass gets filmed to turn up later that night on Bulgarian TV, and that’s a sentence I never thought I’d type.
Terrified of falling, I make my way with everyone over to the run. I get onto the poma safely, although someone later shows me evidence of a photographer pointing his camera up my kilt towards TK jnr. and the boys… hope he’d combed his hair. Banknote from Ski DVD and Pamporovo Pete from Bulgaria Ski are the stars of the hour as they do the run practically naked, although Banknote later revealed he had a Borat style ‘mankini’ with him that he backed out of, as it were.
At the top of the run I manage to sit down and strap in without losing anything to frostbite, and then make a very tentative run to the bottom! I did it! My last run of the holiday and it was in a kilt as a true and proper Scotsman. Superb, but I was back at home for a few weeks before I managed to coax it all back down again.
Stu - The ski-a-thong goes well with a good crowd turning out to see it. After they’ve all finished and it gets a bit quieter I have probably the best run of the week down the same slope, then head up again for some more. I realise after a while that everyone else has disappeared, so decide to head off towards the Alpina, but I finally feel as if something has finally clicked with the snowboarding. A combination of pain killers, beer and getting my bindings set up has made me improve a lot. I only wish this had happened on the second or third day. Head down to the bar and realise it’s getting very cold in the resort, the weather looks as if it’s changing. Typical! We all fly home tomorrow. We were all at the tables outside having a laugh and a few beers but there’s not a soul to be seen anywhere outside the vicinity of the pub giving Borovets a true end of season feel.
A few hours later, and I’m still in my kilt as we head off to the Silver Eagle for the charity auction and the presentation evening. It looks like it’s going to take a while to get going and the three of us, by now, are starving. Someone recommends a place called 'Blue' for food so we head off as it’s just round the corner. None of us have been in before but the place looks great inside and the plates passing us as they’re being served look pretty spectacular. We wait a while for a table and are given a few drinks on the house as we drool over everyone else’s food.
Tim has eaten a few steaks in his life, and we’re talking about a man who has lived for a while in Paris, but today, if you ask him about his top two or three best steaks ever, that one he had in ‘Blue’ will be up there. Maybe even at number one. We eventually get a table and get food, and my God, go there! In past reports (and earlier on in this one) I’ve mentioned Katy’s as some of the best food you’ll get in Borovets … from this moment on ‘Blue’ is a valid competitor. I cannot believe I’ve been in Borovets so many times and someone hasn’t held me down and insisted I go there. I’ve walked past it so many times. So, go to ‘Blue’. I insist. It’s on the same street as Franco’s, but further up on the right hand side (walking from the Rila end) and, eh, it’s blue.
Belly’s full, we have a very contented saunter back to the Silver Eagle and I’m immediately auctioned off … well, a look up my kilt is … and I’m well chuffed that it went for 45lev! I get on a table for display to the winners, and then sign the items I’d donated to the auction, dedicating them to the winner, but eventually decide I’d had enough of this bloody kilt. My waistband has expanded a bit after my meal in Blue, but the kilt is steadfast. I’m essentially wearing a skin-tight woollen waistband so spend a few lev jumping in a cab, jumping into a pair of jeans and jumping back again.
Stu - Just as TK disappears Amanda hands out thank you cards made by the kids at the orphanage and I have to accept his for him as he's now back at the Bor getting changed.
Thank you Stu, and thank you Amanda. No matter what has happened in the interim, I still treasure that card. I’m back in oh so comfy jeans as a cheque for around 11,000 euros (let me say that again, eleven thousand euros!!) was presented to Amanda. There are heartfelt thanks and tears all round as Aimee informs us that the Alpina Bar is staying open for us, so we dive in and drag out the Karaoke machine.
Tim is off back home early in the morning, so I wander round the resort with him, visiting a few of his favourite bars, returning to the Alpina for Stu at silly o’clock in the morning. We start to say our goodbyes to everyone from the forums (in case we don’t get a chance tomorrow) as Tim gets a taxi back to Samokov Town for the last time. Stu and I are teary as he departs and shoot a horse or two in his honour.
Saturday – Last-day-itus, embarrassment at Sophia and the usual long brutal trip home.
Last night we great intentions of waking up early and getting a half day pass. By the time we wake up it’s 11.30 and reception have phoned the room telling us to get out.
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| Bye Borovets! |
We have a quick bite in the Alpina, do the usual ‘last day’ stuff, then board a bus for the airport. We’re rushed through security and then told we can’t smoke in Departures or get back out. I go off to find a quiet corner without CCTV and set fire to a mouthful of fags.
Stu - I’m really pretty much done in at this point, my energy levels are gone, my muscles hurt and the adrenalin supplies are shot. I keep telling myself I desperately don’t want to be here, I just want to be at home in my own bed. The thought of all the travelling still to be done was seriously taking its toll and grinding me down. I feel on the verge of mental collapse. As I step through the security scanners, people suddenly spring into action, my bag is being raked through. They find a walkie-talkie that looks like a detonator and an 'on hill' mini screwdriver that looks like a small gun. Boy was my face red!
The three hour flight back home is a bit bumpy and Manchester really feels freezing cold by comparison to Bulgaria. We feel weird, uncomfortable, and really desperate to get home. Trouble is, there’s a drive back to Scotland to come. It’s every bit as brutal as expected but we eventually get home, after lots of coffee red bull stops at around 6 in the morning, both hallucinating from tiredness and looking forward to a long, a very, very long rest.
Same time next year then.
NOTES
Tim's work can be seen at http://www.timsandys.com/
Amiee and Arie aren't running the Alpina now. In 2010 they were still in Borovets running the upper floor of Franco's, but now in 2011 they've moved on, with hopefully a return to form next year.
If you post on Ski DVD or Bulgaria Ski you may know some of these names, thanks to Banknote, Loose Channge, Steve C, howdoyoustop, Tiger Tim, eyeballto, Bibblybobs, Tuftyduck, nightmuffy, Pamporovo Pete and everyone else there that week for making it such a laugh.
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