Well as many of you will know already we decided to escape from Christmas in England for a second year running. We went to Borovets in Bulgaria, in part to satisfy Vonny's desire for a skiing holiday somewhere where there are trees (which you don't get on ski fields in New Zealand). We chose Bulgaria due to the fact it was cheaper, and also because we were encouraged by what we saw in the Czech Republic, and wanted a bit more of eastern Europe. As we soon found out, Bulgaria made Prague look more Paris than Moscow.
Snow conditions were of course of great concern to us, and we watched the webcam eagerly for the weeks before we left (the link is at the bottom of this post). Fortunately there was a good fall of over 30cm shortly before we arrived and on our first day on the slopes (Christmas Day) the cover was good and the scenery was enchanting.
In what was to become the major source of frustration to us, on the first day two of the main lifts were not working for no apparent reason. This of course meant crowded slopes and big queues to get up to the top. In a way we were lucky that half the people at the resort were learning to ski, and so were staying on the easier lower slopes. If you're thinking that the lifts were closed because it was Xmas day, I can assure you that no-one else in Borovets seemed to have taken the day off to mark the occasion.
The next morning we headed off in seperate directions and I (Chris) went straight to the closed chairlift (Sitnyakovo Express) which was now working. After a quick and scenic ride to the top I discovered a small beginners run which was to become our haunt for much of the week. For the first half hour I had it entirely to myself which was pure pleasure. Fortunately curiosity soon got the better of Vonny and she came up to find me and share the enjoyment.
Our previous skiing experience was rather mis-matched. Vonny had done quite a bit when she was young and fearless, and was quite confident. I however had only been up to Ruapehu for two weekends with Dad and was still using a snow plough to stop and steer. With a bit of coaching from Vonny I was soon doing parallel turns and stopping abruptly with an impressive shower of snow. Of course I still thought Vonny was mad when she did runs shown as black (experts only) on the piste map (link also below); like this one which is just above and to the left of the Rila Hotel on the map.
Unfortunately as the days passed things got more icy, and the new snow we desperately needed didn't fall. As a result things got rather hairy. On the up side the Gondola which had always been closed when we checked was now operating to the half-way station, so we headed up there. Vonny had told me that Diana had always said to her that if you find yourself on a run that you don't think you can ski but can't go back up, you just have to get yourself in a frame of mind to get keep going down. As we decended from the Gondola and the blue run turned into a very steep icey red (advanced) an imaginary parrot with Diana's voice appeared on my shoulder and chanted this mantra. It must have worked as I made it down in one piece; in fact it did wonders for my confidence and the next day I was going down the black run that Vonny is pictured on above.
Alas I never made it down the red run shown behind Vonny in the picture above without doing a section of it on my bum. With the cold clear nights turning snow to ice and the resort owners hesitant to use the snow making machines, these runs were soon off limits to everyone except the national ski team. Then it started to rain. This cloud did have a silver lining however as by this stage our legs were so sore and feet so blistered, that it was good to give them a rest from skiing. We went for a walk around the cross country ski track. Here's Vonny under the gondola which was carrying the suicidal up to the half-way station.
We seriously considered swapping our downhill skis for cross country ones as since our trip to Norway we have both been keen to try it out. Vonny is very interested in having a go at a Biathlon, and she wasn't going to let a lack of skis or rifle ruin this opportunity. Talk about enthusiastic.
The next day we checked on the gondola having noticed the conditions were clear and still, and were told to "wait for more information". Perhaps it is best they don't hire out guns for the Biathlon, they could be used for other purposes. We headed up again to our favourite beginners slope at the top of the Sitnyakovo chairlift and fell over lots. We then went down my favourite blue run and I fell over some more which was a real bummer (no pun intended) of a way to do it for the last time. We got to the gondola and the queue was 200 metres long. We were so depressed we went and had a mulled wine to gather our thoughts and make a plan.
We tried a few other beginners slopes and then checked on the gondola again. There was no queue and we walked straight in. On the way past the office we noticed a collection of over 10 signs, each with a different excuse why the gondola wasn't working. We couldn't have been the first people to visit Borovets and feel frustrated it took us 5 days to get to the top of the gondola. However when we go to the top things were completely different. The scene was beautiful, with a fresh fall of powder, clear skies, great views, and wide uncrowded runs. We skied the blue run a few times just to appreciate the snow and how much fun it was (we had seriously thought we had lost the ability to ski having not been able to turn on the icy conditions lower down). The ski tow to the top was very different from lower down, and Vonny dubbed it the 'Poma of death' (Poma being the company who make ski tows and chairlifts). It was twice as fast as the one's we had been using, much steeper, and took off with a real kick. Many people fell off along the way, but we held on and I took this picture of Vonny to celebrate our survival. Fortunately she didn't collect one of the bars whilst posing as once released they flew with impressive and indiscriminate ferocity.
Vonny headed back to the gondola and I did one more run, this time down a red that wasn't groomed and had over a metre of powder in places. I'd never skied on powder before and it was quite different. I thought it was one of the marvels of nature, providing a soft cushion to fall on just when it made turning more difficult.
Alas the following morning, when we woke up in hope of another good day at the top, we heard the wind in the trees and knew it was pointless getting up; the gondola operators would being making use of their sign collection. We slept in, read our books, and went for a walk to take some pictures of what was around Borovets. Many of the buildings were hideous concrete structures, but some of them were built in the traditional style which was very attractive.
A chainsaw and a hammer were the sole tools of the local builders, and a right-angle was a rare find. Many of the buildings had an attractive ramshackle appearance about them which really added to their warmth and homeliness. Open fires (with 2ft logs) and barbeques were everywhere, even outside at this place.
Transport around the resort was either by foot, horse and trap, or taxi. This wasn't the only car of this make about.
On our final day in Bulgaria we opted for a tour around Plovdiv (the second largest city) rather than hanging around Borovets until nightfall. We looked around the old town and browsed in some shops; to be honest there wasn't that much to do. We spotted this beauty parked in the old town, the stickers on the windscreen told us that yelling at the car wan't allowed, and the speed was limited to 300km/h.
Drunken vandalism must be a problem in the area as after riveting up the damage (these Trabants are made of paper and plastic) the owner had attached this warning sticker to ward off future attacks.
We both agree that we achieved what we set out for, to escape Christmas and go skiing. However what we had found was not at all what we were expecting, and we were often frustrated at the way the resort was run. Lifts appeared to be closed for no reason, and no information was available about why or when they might be going. It was as though the Communist Party was still in charge (funnily enough they are - Bulgaria was the only one of the eastern bloc states to re-elect a communist government after the fall of the iron curtain). Culturally the Bulgarians came across as unwelcoming and terse. The country was grey, poor and depressing. I guess we were out of our comfort zone and we didn't like it. The solution: more travel - watch this space!
Links:
Here is a Webcam of the lower slopes Here is a Piste map of the resort
