The Northern Black Sea Coast – mid-May 2004

The Northern Black Sea Coast:
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when we crossed the border 2 km. south of Vama Veche. We pedaled 65 km. under a bright blue sky along the northern Black Sea Coast. It was savage, wild, wooded – the contrast of what we had seen in Romania. We picnicked on the beach, passing several miles of cornfields, lakes, swamp, tiny yellow birds, and red and yellow butterflies on a winding dirt path. The beach was empty, isolated, the cliffs red, and the water a deep blue. Apparently the Black Sea reflects the color of the sky: blue, white or gray. We’ve only ever seen it blue.

The road followed the Sea. It was quiet and very peaceful. No traffic – great for bikes. The scenery was wilder and more pleasant than in Romania. Less agriculture, more savage. Chartreuse fields.

We headed towards Cape Kaliakra, the cliff where 40 young girls are said to have thrown themselves into the sea, attaching their hair together, in order to escape the Turks. The road leading to the Cape was very isolated. Flowering bushes were our only company. As we arrived at the Cape, we could see lightning in the distance over the sea, and then the rain came.

Cape Kaliakra:
The extreme northern coast of Bulgaria is called the “Coast of Cliffs,” and Cape Kaliakra is the most striking example. We awoke to a sea of bright yellow flowers, which covered the red cliffs, which in turn dove sharply into the sea below. We spent the day exploring the cape – walking along the cliffs among the large bunches of flowers, which transformed the landscape into a bright splash of yellow. Smaller red flowers popped up here and there. We found hidden caves in the cliffs which overlooked the turquoise and deep blue sea. The water was so clear that we could see the big rocks in the water below from high up on the cliffs. Bright, bright color flooded the senses. There were snakes and one or two busloads of tourists. The extreme point of the Cape was characterized by rock arches, from which you could see the pygmy cormorant birds on the rocks in the sea below. We were thrilled to have made the detour. The landscape was one of wild and spectacular beauty; savage and untamed.

Cape Kaliakra to Varna:
We left in the late afternoon and picnicked in a field of lavender flowers. We passed some vineyards and some woods before arriving in the town of Balcik by night. In Balcik, we coasted 4-5 km. straight down towards the Sea. The campsite that our map showed was closed – as we were to find out later on was the case for all of Bulgaria. It was pouring cats and dogs, the thunder was rolling in, and the road to get out of town was another steep 5 km. up. We thought our best option was to stay put. We slept by a construction site in the middle of the town near the port. I lay awake listening to the rain all night. Early the next morning, we saw people combing the hillsides in rubber boots and rain jackets, collecting snails in large pails.

We ate breakfast at the port and watched an army of workers sweep the pavement with tiny, inefficient brooms. The majority of them appeared to be immigrant workers. I wondered if the brooms were purposely made to be so inefficient, just so that work could be artificially created for a lot of people.

We biked to Varna that day, along the Coast of Cliffs, up and down the mountain roads, past vineyards, yellow and mauve flowers, swamps, and forests that looked tropical. The road followed the outline of the cliffs high above the sparkling sea. The towns were alternately built into the mountainsides or perched on top of the cliffs. The road was difficult – my legs felt ready to fall off. But it was very beautiful.

Twenty kilometers before Varna started a series of holiday towns nesting in the hillsides. Restaurants, hotels, and motels were set either in the woods or on the steep mountainsides. Tour buses and elderly tourists clogged the roads. There was one resort after another. And then Varna, just as the rain stopped and the sun came out.

Varna:
No campsite in Varna, either, so we had to settle for a hotel. The town was nice: open, with large pedestrian boulevards which ran from the central part of town to the beach. There were a lot of hotels and restaurants in the town center. Big trees lined most streets, providing a welcoming shade. There were cute little squares and parks. The beach was sandy, but very built-up. It was already touristy in May; I can’t imagine it in July.

The large Orthodox Church reminded me of the Esztergom Basilica in Hungary because of its colors: mauve, gold, and periwinkle blue. The wood carvings were heavy, painted in black. Unlike the Catholic and Protestant churches, the Orthodox Church has no pews – just one bench on either side of the church, near the front.

In the small, shaded park across from the church was a market, which sold fresh and dried fruit, spices, and vegetables. The stands were relatively small; there was not a large variety. You could also find toys, books, sportswear, and jewellery. Some stands sold knitted socks and the like alongside of parsley and leeks. A funny combination. The vendors selling sportswear were extremely aggressive. They would lay their hands on you and grab you by the shoulders in a strong grip, willing you to buy something. The best thing to do was to keep moving quickly. But they were enterprising. Most of them spoke many languages: “English? Russki? Deutsche? Francais?” And then there were all the people who tried to change money on the black market, and who followed you around, not wanting to take “no” for an answer. “Euros, dollars, pounds?” “English? Deutsche?”

We tried the fast-food, Bulgarian-style. Moussaka and the like, kept hot in a dish, which you choose from behind a counter, cafeteria-style. Also tried tarrator (cold yogurt and cucumber soup) and the traditional fish soup.

As we were walking around town in the middle of the afternoon, we had a “run-in” with a group of gypsies – about 15 girls, between the ages of 18 and 25. They tried repeatedly to unzip the backpack which Stephane was wearing, and being unsuccessful the first few times, finally ended up by surrounding us. Stephane was forced to use the pepper spray. There were screams of surprise, and they backed away.

We saw a man playing violin for his bear on a leash in Varna. The bear rolled over on his back, all four legs in the air, like a dog, while the man played. He was big and brown and furry. At first, I thought it was a real bear, and then I thought it was impossible that the authorities would allow a bear inside the city limits. Thinking it was just a show for the tourists, I remarked to Stephane that the man inside the bear suit must be very hot! Turns out it was a real bear, after all, and Stephane got such a good laugh out of it, he’s never going to let me live it down!

One cool thing about staying in a hotel is that you get to watch TV! In addition to MTV and British mysteries, we saw good old-fashioned cartoons in English, such as the Flintstones, Scooby-Doo, and Bugs Bunny.