BULGARIA TO ROMANIA

BULGARIA TO ROMANIA

Although I was made to be very comfortable - and welcome - back at Kosto's apartments (the same apartment I'd rented before), honestly being in the same small town was kind of a drag.  I resolved to go somewhere new next time I'm in Bulgaria.

Unlike the USA, trains are still used as transport in Eastern Europe.  I resolved to use them while I could as they are freaky expensive in Western Europe.

From Plovdiv to Sophia (capital) there is a small local train.

While waiting for that at about two in the morning, I asked a couple cops where I could take a leak.  They showed me to the pay bathroom which was closed.  For some reason.  They then gestured to a nearby wall.  "If you don't care, I don't care." I retorted.

Eventually, I reached the under construction Sophia train station.  It looks like they are going for a 'cubist concrete' style.

I was trying to figure out how to get the train for the next leg of my journey (Sophia to Bucharest) and asked one of the ticket sellers.  She didn't speak any languages useful for a traveler.  Eventually, I was shown a TV monitor they had conspicuously set up.  Hey, I didn't have any sleep last night.

The only important parts are the first column, what train you have and the last - what platform it's on.  Red box means you'd better run.

Er - to catch the train.  Not because you're going to be hunted down and killed like a common snow leopard.

That's HIS job.

My platform came up as "83".  Quite a trick considering there were seven platforms.

I only wish I was joking.

It turned out later (after getting the police in on helping me to find out what the hell was going on) there are indeed eight platforms.  The eighth is handwritten on a piece of paper and not labeled on the "this way to platforms one through seven".

Turns out that I was, once again, not picked for wizarding school.

So platform eight?  Great - what's the three?  Oh - your local language symbol for west.  No, that's not freakishly confusing at all.  Thanks so much.

The 'west' thing is important because they load multiple trains on the same tracks (despite some other tracks not being busy) because that is not at all confusing either.

Is this why buses have been buttfucking the rail industry?

Possibly that and they haven't caught on to the 'offer free wifi on your trains'.

So we went through the border.  Though it took longer than perhaps it should have, it was one of the relaxed border crossings where the border guard came on to the train, collected the passports and returned them later.

I eventually arrived in Bucharest, got the local train to Ploiesti (we're still talking Romania here), called my hosts and they collected me from the train station.  Thanks to the nice couple that let me borrow their phone!



MY HOSTS

In the LHI tour I didn't put up pics of my hosts.  I regret that.  So, this time I am doing it.

Here are my hosts in Romania, Sorin and Diana.

These guys have an interesting job - they work for a casino!  They're high falutin' managers which means that if I go with them to their work, they leave me at the bar with as much free booze as I can stomach.

That's a nice deal.

Since the bartenders aren't doing much (summer is the slow season), we sit around and talk.

Ma-ki-hel, Logan, Kat-a-leen.  (Spelled phonetically, sorry I don't know how to spell it but it's better this way.)

Getting back to my hosts, they are super nice to me.  I consider a week to be about the max I should freeload off someone.  Last time I was in Romania, I ended up staying with them for a week.  This time they said I should come for two weeks.

Nice folks.  They treat me super well.  And, best yet, getting to meet them in yet a different town!  Yea!

Hope to visit them in a few more years.



HOW MUCH DO PEOPLE IN THE USA LIKE BACON?

Apparently, enough to be fucked by it...

BOOK REVIEWS

Note on 'graphic audio'.  Those are audio books where they put in sound effects and such.  These are designed for people who have no fucking imagination.  I find such things - as well as multiple 'cast members' to be extremely distracting.  Hence, I avoid that shit.  I figure these things are a symptom of people who have been raised on TV and are incapable of forming pictures in their mind.

"Libriomancer", "Codex Born" and "Unbound" by Jim C. Hines

Pretty decent urban fantasy.  The most interesting part is the type of magic (see title of book) used.  By drawing on the collective belief and emotions of the people who have read books, the magicians can literally reach into a book and draw forth what they want from the book.  This reminds me a bit of the book "Geekomancy" which did partially the same thing, using the collective belief/love of people to get the magic but this puts a new slant on it.

The story, heroes and such are really nothing new.  The big powerful organization is way too busy to deal with what seems important to the hero.  He even had a 'turn in your badge and gun' moment with one of the bosses but was later reinstated because he is too damned good.  The hero also suffers from not being very clever and hella reckless.

The author became upset when I mentioned that with the hero getting into that much trouble (and being an extremely fast reader and great researcher) he would bother to learn a bit of 'trade craft' (spy stuff).  Apparently that isn't ever going to happen.  I would encourage anyone who is constantly put into life and death situations to bother to learn some of this.   Eventually, you just end up shaking your head wondering why this guy is still alive and hasn't gotten the people close to him killed.  If these characters were either overconfident or suicidal nihilists it would make more sense.

Note, I don't recommend contacting this author.  Normally, authors I talk to are not so overly sensitive.  No doubt there is more to the story than I know.  Perhaps he just discovered someone had raped his dog.  (If so, my condolences to the dog, contact PETA.)  I've no idea, but it is not often I need to 'unfriend' someone.

[Note, if this sounds overly harsh, rather than bitching about someone posting on your wall within that thread, delete the thread (it's your wall) and send them a PM.  If they do it again, unfriend and block them.  This isn't rocket science.]

Nothing new here but it is not a bad series either.

5/10


Books by F. Paul Wilson:  "Cold City", "Dark City", "Fear City" - early Repairman Jack books.

While these may look like three different book titles, take my word for it, they are all pretty much one long book.

Prequels are usually shit (the "Amber" by Zelazny ones come to mind) but these were different.  These were written by the same author, unlike the ones mentioned above which I begin to suspect I may be holding an illogical grudge against.

Normally you cringe when protagonists do stupid stuff.  Like in the "Libriomancer" series I reviewed above.  However, in these books they talk about the protagonist in his early formative years.  He's a bit hot headed, morally conflicted, completely inexperienced and getting some training.  Yeah.  This is exactly the right place for him to mess up without the audience screaming "Are you stupid?"  Quite a refreshing read after "Libriomancer".

This guy's story is not unlike "The Equalizer" from the ancient days of television that anyone born post internet has no idea exists.  It's not really a new concept.  In the later (sprawling) series, he solves problems.  These books are how he gets started.

Part of the appeal of the series is the guy leads a very 'off the grid' lifestyle.   While Logan leads a fairly off the grid 'alternative' lifestyle, this guy is completely off the grid.  No last name, no social security number, all payment under the table.  Good stuff.

I'd recommend these books.  They are easy to read and were made long after the author had 'sharpened his quill'.  Maybe that expression is too old.  Authors get better as they get older.  This was made fairly recently.

It may suck you into the series.  Without giving any spoilers (hate those people) I can say that there is more going on than some guy getting paid to rough up people for cash.  The series is eventually classified as 'urban fantasy'.  Enjoy.

7/10



LOGANISMS

"Cold McDonald's french fries taste like...broken dreams..."

"Electricity is what separates us from cheetahs."



Costs (Romania):

Bottle of hard alcohol, about 10 USD
Bulgarian 'fast food' (think BBQ), about 1.5 USD (yeah, not bad)

ATHEISTS IN FOXHOLES

ATHEISTS IN FOXHOLES

"There's no atheists in foxholes!"

Liar.

I'm going to guess that this statement is not meant to be taken as it stands.  Simply having someone crawl into a foxhole it would be stupid to have them suddenly undergo some sort of religious conversion.

"Oh, but you have to get shot at!"

OK - do you mean that someone has to literally be in a foxhole getting shot at for them to suddenly try to tilt the pinball game that is god through prayer?  If so, that saying not only seems really crazy specific but it is difficult to prove or disprove.

I'm going to guess that the statement actually means "When it looks like you're going to die you will suddenly start dry humping the leg of a god."

Which seems really stupid to me.  If I believed in a god, I'd guess that his divine plan probably revolves around me getting shot and my corpse violated in unspeakable ways.  He's mysterious like that.

So I'll assume the actual intent of the statement is more along the lines of "If you think you will die it will suddenly be come to (not on) Jesus time."

Which is complete bullshit.

As anyone who has been following my blog (http://logansvoyage.blogspot.com/) knows, I've thought I was going to die many times during my four plus years of wandering the world.  Any thing from getting maliciously stalked in Bosnia to having an emergency operation in Republic of Georgia to collapsing not once but twice on a gritty hotel lobby floor in Malaysia.  Earthquakes, revolutions, revolts and so forth have been events that I've witnessed.

Thinking back on it, I've actually lost track of how many times I thought "Well, shit.  I might die here."

Not once did I go creepily religious.  It could be stubbornness or not wanting to spend an eternity with religious types in an ill defined 'heaven'.

My thoughts when this sort of stuff happens are usually along the lines of "Well, shit."



HOT DAYS

People love to caution me when it gets a bit hot but after living in the tropics, the jungle and a bunch of deserts, I just smile and nod at them.  A 'scorcher' in Bulgaria is a totally different thing than when it happens in say Indonesia.

So I was out wandering around and  decided it was critical to get new shoes.

Being a fat guy, I am super proud of having worn a literal hole in my shoes.  Yes, I realize it may be through flattening the shoe with enough force to make diamonds but still, proud.

Since the bottoms had literally gone out from my shoes, my feet were cooking.

I went to a shoe store and managed to find some different sandals.  Of course, they were too small for me but still felt more comfortable than having my feet baked.

Shop keeper:  "These are leather."
Logan:  "Doesn't matter if they are plastic or leather.  The quality is not good.  They will probably wear out in two weeks."
Shopkeeper:  "They are made in Bulgaria!"
Logan:  (pause)  "One week?"

Yes, that is an actual conversation.



LOGAN'S GUIDE TO SURVIVING HOT CLIMATES!

Stay inside, run the air conditioning and drink chilled alcoholic drinks.

If that is unavailable (it usually is with my lifestyle), here are some extra steps.

Drink an assload of water.  More than that.  Those big liter and a half bottles?  You'll probably go through three per day.  More if you're doing much.

Watch your pee.  If it isn't mostly clear, drink more water.  Seriously or you might get sick.

Unless you are English, avoid direct sunlight.  English people will sunburn but due to their culture they must be sunburned to show other English people they "got some sun" when they were on vacation.  This is the only reason many go on vacation.  English people (the white ones) are usually either pasty white (beginning of vacation) or suffering heat stroke and second degree burns (end of vacation).  Assuming you are not English (or insane) stay out of direct sunlight.

If you can't, always wear head protection.  If you don't, you deserve what is coming.  Seriously.

Watch the locals, do what they do.  They've been surviving in this shitty weather longer than you have and may have some tricks.  Vary your schedule to match the locals.  It's tourists trying to see everything they can in as short of time as possible that are at the most risk for getting sunstroke and dehydration.

If you are stuck out in a desert with little in supplies, try to team up with Bear Grylls or some other famous survivalist.  Be nice to them and they may drag your useless ass out of there.  If you can't find them, try to make your inevitable death look like a bizarre murder to irritate the local police.



BOOK REVIEWS

"Redshirts" by John Scalzi.

Aside from the weird ranty stuff he goes on about after the primary novel is done (a bit of WTF), I found this witty and a bit funny in a couple places.

Recommended for fans of Star Trek.


"The Time Portal" by Joe Corso & Deborah McCarthy

Though I hated the reader in this (it sounded like he had a faint lisp) and there were several eye rolling moments in this, I powered through for as long as I could.

The book built up a guy who was a jewel thief recruited (for some reason) by the CIA.  After a big explosion he developed special sight which allowed him to see time curtains.

After going through one somewhere in the USA (I forget where) he ended up in jolly ole England and immediately set about working on creating time paradoxes by shooting a pistol around and giving a king a flashlight.

Eventually, I just gave up on the book.

2/10


COSTS

Buying new shoes, 45 lev.

THE BIG SHIT

THE BIG SHIT

There I was on a small island in Indonesia.

The island is right where the very point of the arrow is - it doesn't show up well on this map but if I show just the island it gives no context.

It was pretty primitive there.  With only one five watt light bulb to light the room (really?  Who buys five watt light bulbs) it was twilight all the time inside the room.  Sure, it was nice outside but you can only take so much of the great outdoors before feeling 'stabby'.

Not that the outdoors stayed outside.  Monkeys enjoyed giving a wake up call early in the morning by jumping up and down on the corrugated steel roof.  That will wake you right the hell up.

When you sleep under a mosquito net, the one ancient under powered fan loses most of it's cooling power.  After nearly dying from Dengue Fever, I was grateful to sweat myself to sleep under the netting.

While part of me felt that the primitive huts would be best decorated with fire, the other part knew if they were to build them properly I couldn't afford to stay there.

As to exploring the island, you have three choices - rent a motorbike, walk or hire someone to drive you around it.  I'd tried a quick test drive atop the motorbike and felt like a clown trying to ride a miniature bike.  Not secure.  If you wreck it, you pretty much bought it.  And the hospital.  Hiring someone to take you to see different dilapidated huts with corrugated steel rooves is pricey so I walked.

The longer I live on a jungle island...

...the more I start to become Colonel Kurtz...

One way had hills and eventually led to a different shitty village.  The other way of the one long road island had even larger hills and may have eventually led somewhere else.

For three weeks I walked the same six or seven kilometer round trip, ate a very small lunch, floundered around the ocean then sat in my hut until dinner time.  The dinner at Norma's was home style and amazing every time.  After dinner, back to my five watt bulb and computer with usually no internet until sleep overcame the slapping of bugs who had made it through the netting.

Obviously, I couldn't wait to leave.

Until a buddy of mine who had invited me to Belgium confirmed the trip I didn't know if I'd be heading west to Europe or sweating it out in Asia.

Will we get to meet the amazing Belgium detective Hercule Poirot?  No.  He's dead.  And fictional.

After getting the word that the trip was indeed on, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"I want the guy at my hut at six AM."
"Oh, he don't coming till six thirty."
"If he comes then, he won't find me there because I want to leave at six."
"I call him."

I mistakenly thought this would be the most nerve wracking part of the trip.  Oh, the innocence!

There are only two ferries per day off of the island.  If you miss one, you need to wait until the afternoon for the next.  And that would be after your flight to Kuala Lumpur Malaysia had already left so you'd then miss the flight to Istanbul Turkey.

Because I am paranoid of someone even less competent screwing things up, I like to check things.  Turkish Airways had indeed sent me a confirmation e-mail for my ticket but they'd cancelled the payment and my flight without bothering to send an e-mail about that.

And they wouldn't let me buy a new ticket.

Super.  Thanks so much.

So pissed.

Kuala Lumpur is a major airline hub so I figured I could go see someone and sort out that mess when I got there since it would be many hours until my flight.

The ferry back to Banda Aceh (Aceh is pronounced 'Ah-cha'.  Why isn't it spelled like that?  Who the fuck knows.) was smooth and noisy with the locals blasting music and children and smoking incessantly.   I would like to note that if women smoke, they do so at home and in private.  I'd asked why since the men smoke like they're practicing it for the Olympics.  "It is not polite" for a woman to be seen smoking.  Wow.

When the ferry docked and I disembarked I heard someone call my name.  It was a very clever local who had learned it from me when I first got there weeks ago and somehow remembered it.

This is a clever guy.  Of course I will ride on his wildly unsafe tuk tuk to the airport.  Note that the tuk tuks here are like motorcycles side car with you a bit higher than the driver.  Think 'catapult in case of accident'.

I can fly!  I can fly!  I can (splat)!

"How much to the airport?"
"How much you want to pay me?"
"Eighty!"
(Looking hurt) "Hundred!"
"OK."

I knew the price was a hundred.  Bargaining skill.

Once in the Banda Aceh airport, I discovered they were implementing what I call a 'sting in the tail' for departing travelers - a 100,000 IDR 'airport tax'.   Fortunately, I'd purchased my ticket before.  For one time travelers, these shenanigans are always a double fuck.  You'd carefully gotten rid of your local currency only to be told you need more to leave.  In addition to getting fucked by the airport, you can again get fucked by the currency exchange people.

There was no Turkish Airways office in this tiny airport.

They did have a restaurant that sold spaghetti.  Since I'd not eaten all day, I decided on a small meal to tide me over until the major airport of Kuala Lumpur and their expensive American fast food.  Remember, I'd been eating nothing but healthy Indonesian food for weeks and that might kill an American.

Took a picture because they gave you so little.  Sure, it was only 25,000 IDR but four fork fulls (say that five times fast) does not a meal make.  Had another after this one.

The only thing the airport had in abundance was brief power outages.  Thinking those might not be so great for the whole 'airport thing'.  Quite a professional confidence booster.

After several hours of waiting, the plane eventually managed to fly me to Kuala Lumpur.

Kuala Lumpur (AKA "KL") is a major hub.  If you come to this part of the world, you will probably either be flying into KL or Bangkok.

Most airports have easy to find ticket counters staffed with happy (well, not entirely miserable) people who can fix you up with tickets.

Not KL.

Their offices are hidden upstairs behind the food court and only staffed sometimes.  Naturally, Turkish Airlines wasn't when I got there.

So I went to find my American fast food injection.  Wendy's isn't nearly as good as back in the USA so I went for Burger King and was content.

Most people eat fast food because "you know what you're getting".  And that tells you everything you need to know about how adventurous most people actually are.

I ate it because I really, really, really wanted some dead cow without bits of jagged bones in it.

While waiting for Turkish Airways office to maybe open, I went to check out two other airlines who go to Istanbul - Malaysian Air and Emirates Airways.   Their prices were a bit more than the $460 of Turkish Airways weighing in at an amazing $750 and $1000 respectively.  Holy shit.

Despite having been told that it would be hours until Turkish Airways office maybe opened, I went back there to camp out.  Worse come to worse, they might find me dead just like Kenny from South Park.

"I don't want to go into too much detail but... you choke yourself with a belt around your neck while masturbating dressed up like Batman or something, then you pass out from lack of air and apparently it makes your orgasm super awesome." - South Park

But surprise!  They were actually in!

After explaining my problem and showing them the confirmation I'd been e-mailed, they said they could fix it.  I gave them my credit card and discovered they (and the website) don't accept debit cards.

What the ever loving fuck.

This is the first place I've ever run in to that doesn't treat a debit card exactly the same as a credit card!

The ATM gave me the majority of the money but of course not enough.

So I got to dig into my emergency cash.

Note that neither Captain Jack Sparrow nor a treasure chest were in my emergency cash.  Not much treasure either.

After going downstairs to a bank and playing the "Can I exchange this bank note here" and "Sir, we do not nor do I even know what country that is from" game I managed to scrape together enough cash into Turkish Lira to go back and buy the ticket.  The price had gone up by nineteen dollars but I just put that down in my mind as a very small reasonable bribe and a lot cheaper than the other airlines.

Everything that day was a lot harder than normal.  Not just the big stuff but strange little things too.

Like when the escalator I was on stopped leaving me halfway up.  "Great, now I'm stuck here!"  Oh, the looks I get when I say these things.

The Turkish Airlines flight was the best one yet.  By requesting it, I got the escape hatch seat (no extra charge) and nobody was sitting next to me.  Which is probably pretty good for them because I was pretty damned ripe by then with the stink of Asia sweat still on me.

Just that dirty.

After an eleven hour flight, Istanbul.

Wow, does this picture make it look super awesome.  I've not yet found the stuff I like there.

When you are tired, you make stupid mistakes.  Like using an ATM that doesn't have an open bank attached to it.  Which ate my mutherfucking card.

The culprit.   Fuck ING Bank.  Fuck it right in it's goat ass.

Whenever I talk to other travelers and the subject of plastic comes up, I always tell them "The more you have, the better."  When they tell me "One is enough for me!" I hope they don't run into this situation.

Of course I need to call ING Bank but I have no Turkish sim card.  Nor money to buy one.  Because the fucking machine ate my card.  And you really don't want to buy a card for a country you will be in for a few hours.

The information desk (isn't) was of no real help.  "Go to the post office in the airport.  They have a phone you can use."  And perhaps it will magically translate the automated menu as well.  Because you know they don't have a 'Press 2 for English' option.

So I went to a different bank that I should have used the card at and talked to the lady.  She was very kind and helpful and called the evil ING Bank for me, navigating through their unhelpful automated call response blockades.

She discovered that it wasn't a matter of simply sending a technician out to unlock the machine, check my ID and return my card.  Nope!  They wanted me to contact my bank (Paypal) and have them send paper work to them.  They will then eventually maybe give back my card.

After hearing that load of shit, I really really wanted a crowbar.

Damned crowbar store.

Then, I wondered 'how could this possibly get worse?'

And that's when the zipper popped right off my bag.  I shit you not.

Note that I'm not telling you all this to say 'woe is me'.  But when you are tired - as you often are while in transit - you do stupid shit.  And sometimes, the universe just feels like taking a big shit on you.

I hate drama but suppose it does make for a better blog.

After exchanging yet more of my emergency money with the nice helpful lady (she is happy) I sought out the metro rail system.

This is a great thing.  It hooks right up to the airport, only costs 4 TRY (Turkish Lira) to use and allows you to bypass all of the taxi drivers.  These guys have such a bad reputation that entire articles are written about their evil.

The train was easy to use, fast and clean.  Fuck the taxis.  If you don't have coins, the machine takes a 5 TRY note.  It gives you 1 TRY change and a plastic token you use to get past the barricade.   There are even route maps inside the car and the destinations given in both Turkish and English.


Otogar is the main bus station in Turkey.  It is pretty much a town within Istanbul.  Big, dirty, crowded.

Picture taken by some slick professional.  Who seems very tall.

Fortunately, I knew to seek out Metro Bus.  They have an excellent reputation, decent buses and are arguably the cheapest.  They have two offices and I made the mistake of going to the smaller one.  Which gave me a ticket and sent me to the larger one where the bus would go anyway.  The offices are only fifty meters or so apart but apparently the company is doing really well.

The larger place also has a phone charger which is great because the battery goes down really fast.  Asia makes shitty batteries.  I have a small battery charger but it was out of juice.  Again, Asia - shitty batteries.

So after my eleven hour flight, I got to wait a couple more hours for the six (actually turned out to be eight or so) hour bus ride.

I used the bus wifi (it kind of worked, I was happy) to tell Georgi (my contact in Bulgaria and grandson of the owner of the apartment) all that had happened.

Felt so sorry for the old guy who sat next to me for the entire bus ride.  I stank.  Bad.  Close to thirty hours of non stop travel after leaving the sweat capital of the world.

In good news, I left a place where the temperature was in the mid thirties and went to a place where it might get up to the low twenties.



CELSIUS FOR DUMMIES

You know why Americans dislike Celsius?  Because they are always trying to convert.  Remember, "Math is the devil, Bobby."  No, I don't know who Bobby is.  That's just the saying.

C     What it actually means

0      You are really cold.  Water freezes at this temperature and you are mostly water.  Get out!
10    It is chilly.  If there is wind, it gets really cold.
20    It is warm enough for a t-shirt.  Hence, for Logan, the ideal temperature is somewhere between
             ten and twenty, closer to twenty.
30    You are sweating balls.  In SE Asia the locals are complaining about how hot it is.
40    You are in a desert.  Not the edible kind - that is a 'dessert'.  This is the one where shit dies.
50    If you aren't dead, you may soon be.

I don't know a lot about the negative numbers because hey, fuck cold.  In Siberia, I've been told (by people insane enough to live there) it gets down to negative forty.  Fuck that.

So now you know how to do temperatures in pretty much every place else in the world.

AND NOW BACK TO OUR STORY

Last we left our intrepid hero, he was totally grossing out some nice old man by simply sitting next to him and stinking.  Just nasty.

The bus only left fifteen minutes late which counts as a win in Turkey.  It all seemed to be going really well until we got to the border.

A lot of the people who smuggle stuff just aren't very bright.  They do things like 'line backing' (where they have other people go first) and they dress in ways that tip off the guards.  Like the girl dressed in what I call 'whore sheek'.   Bottle blond, revealing clothes, badly painted pink toenails sticking out of high heeled sandals and fake eyelashes I've not seen outside of a bad porn movie.

Not sure who considers these eyelashes sexy.  Aside from people who make porn.  Note, this is not the actual girl - just wanted to show the length of the eyelashes.

She stood out from the regular crowd.

And obviously something went wrong.

A guard brought her to the bus and wanted to see her bag.  No bags.  Where are the bags.  Here, you wander around un-escorted and un-watched while I go find out what to do.

After a couple hours everyone - including the lady - get back on the bus and off we go.  I was very curious as to what the fuck happened but I don't speak any Bulgarian.

Ah well.

After the exiting Turkey side, the bus immediately stopped at the 'duty free' shop so that people could stock up on things that really didn't strike me as that great of a deal.

Not that great of a deal unless you want high end stuff slightly cheaper.

More waiting.

Then to the Bulgarian side.  Where the Turkish side had been fairly quick checking people through you might want to allow a lot of extra time on the Bulgarian side.  They obviously need to hire a lot more people.

After we crossed in to Bulgaria, we got to see several kilometers of parked trucks waiting to go through the border.

I had been extremely concerned about 'is Bulgaria within the Schengen area'.

For those who don't know, here's a map:

Here is Logan's interpretation of this.

You have the European Union.  Some countries are members, some are not.
You have the Schengen Area.  Some countries are in it, some are not.  Some are sort of in it.

Really - sort of.

Bulgaria is in this classification.  For other countries within the Schengen area, they are.  For outsiders they aren't.

Confused yet?  Imagine if the issue mattered very deeply to where you traveled.  What a pain.

For normal tourists, the Schengen area agreement is wonderful.  It means that when you visit Europe, you can go where ever the fuck you want and not have any border controls.  It is like getting to visit the fifty states without needing to go through a border control station between Nebraska and Iowa.  It use not to be like that.  Every country you had to do the whole border song and dance.  (Editor:  Not a literal song and dance - usually.)

An excellent song and dance.

For anyone who wants to be in Europe for more than three months this sucks ass.  You can be in the Schengen area for three months out of six.  Then, you can fuck right off.

Considering I need to be in Belgium at the end of September (it is June at the time of this story) it makes a big big difference.

Everyone had different opinions as to whether Bulgaria is or isn't.  The internet also has different opinions.  Really.

I have two things in my favor:

a) the border guard I questioned about it said that Bulgaria is NOT.
b) the stamp he put onto my passport was so light I'm thinking it may not be legible.  This may come back to bite me in the ass later but he apparently had run out of ink awhile ago and didn't care.

Hence, I get to hang out in Bulgaria for a month and a half then wander around eastern and central Europe before putting a toe into western Europe.

[For those wondering how Logan is able to afford even a week in Belgium, simple answer, someone else is paying for it.  Food, drinks (including alcohol) and lodging.  I just have to get there.  Note that if you want Logan somewhere, paying for all those things is a pretty good way to get him there.  Pretty damned good.  Plus, in this case I get to hang out with an old friend.  Epic.  Dry humping statues may be involved.  If so, pictures will be posted.]

Even before the border, the wifi left the bus.  I'd read about this when doing research in the past so I managed to send off all my panicked rambling messages early on the ride.

Within these messages, Georgi sent me several cab numbers that were trustworthy.  In Bulgaria it is important to get a cab that works for a company rather than an independent cab.  The company ones charge very reasonable rates, the independents will fuck you.

By 'cab numbers' I mean the numbers on the sides of the actual cabs.  Not sure if these are the company names - as opposed to an actual name.  For anyone traveling here, the numbers suggested are: 6665, 9199, 6155, 6160.

The first cabby was lurking near the bus station and followed me to the currency exchange where yet more emergency money went away.  When I tried to find out approximately how much for the trip, he was very vague and wouldn't give an answer.  I tuned him out and ignored him.  Found a cab with 6665 on the door and asked him.  Though he didn't speak English he signaled, "I don't know, I use the meter, probably 2.5 or 3 LEV."

Got in that cab.  It was 2.5 LEV, I just gave him 4 LEV.  That's a bit over two dollars.  Done.

It was a lot further than I would have wanted to walk even if I didn't have all my worldly possessions with me.

After traveling for a bit over thirty five hours, I was finally at the apartment.  Georgi's father immediately offered a beer.  I refused but accepted water.  Felt so rough.

Did I immediately go upstairs and have a shower?  Hell no - needed supplies.

Off to a restaurant to get food for the evening and to a store to get some necessities.

Then shower, food and sixty percent of a bottle of whiskey.

Fell asleep before I could finish it.  Dammit.

The next day, something which had been held back for the entire thirty five hour trip came forth.  I had to take the big shit.  Most people's scream "Daddy!  Daddy!" and they have to kick it back into the toilet.  Mine instead said this.

And that is the story of the Big Shit.  Turkish Airways unexpectedly cancelling the ticket, Big Shit.  The machine that ate the card, Big Shit.  And of course the Big Shit was the Big Shit.

For those only paying attention to the bad, I would leave you with the these:  The helpful lady at Turkish Airlines who got me a new ticket in an amazing seat.  The helpful lady who used her personal phone to call the evil bank on my behalf.  The fact that I would have soon needed a new Paypal card as that one was going to expire in about four more months.  People are really super nice and I appreciate it every day.



THE ROUTE

For those who haven't carefully studied the blog (what are you thinking?) here is the route I've taken thus far:

Trip begun 1/4/11 (note, I use European style dates which makes so much more sense than US style.)

UK, Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Bosnia, Serbia, Romania, Moldova, Ukraine, (ship across Black Sea), Georgia, Turkey, Jordan, Israel, Egypt, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, India, Nepal, India, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, Cambodia, Thailand, Cambodia, Thailand, Turkey, Georgia, Latvia, Lithuana, Poland, Germany, Spain, Morocco, Germany, USA, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, you aren't even reading still, Costa Rica, Panama, sailded to Columbia, Columbia, Ecuador, Perus, Panama, Dominican Republic, Germany, your eyes have glazed over, Turkey, Ukraine,, Moldova, Romania, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Albania, Greece, Italy, Tunisia, you are growing sleepy, United Arab Emirates, South Africa, United Arab Emirates, Thailand, you are now hypnotized, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Thailand, send money, Malaysia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Turkey, Bulgaria.



ENGRISH

In much of the world, English is spelled like it sounds.  You know, logically.  Spaghetti becomes 'spagetty'.  Since English is no longer the language of America (or the UK for those who know some history) but the world, I've noticed it is beginning to change in much of the world.

Sure, tourists may roll their eyes at the way 'inferior primitive non-English speakers' they look down their noses at spell but personally, I don't mind the words changing.

Fuck spelling bees.

DID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that at the bottom of the blog (the whole thing, not just this posting) are a bunch of cities and countries.  If you click on those links, it takes you to pictures from all those places.

My youtube channel name is Logan9a - there are over six hundred short videos from around the world showing a lot of different stuff.



THE TRANSITORY NATURE OF THINGS

As I watch my gear slowly (sometimes quickly) fall apart, it causes me to ponder the transitory nature of things.  Everything is temporary.  Perhaps that is why some people take on crippling debt to attempt to 'build equity' in a home.  It is a 'permanent' abode.  It always seems to come back to fear of mortality.  While I personally look forward to my own eventual ending, it won't be something I'm going to be able to blog about.

...And speaking of transitory...



SELF EXAMINATION

Going to share something personal.  Apologies if it is too personal.

No, it's not about my latest bowel movement.  I don't consider those personal.

Two days ago, my mother died.

First thing I did was to sit down and analyze my feelings about it.

Emotions weren't really involved - they simply weren't there.

She had been living for the last couple months in a hospice home and in a considerable amount of pain.  So, I'm sure that death was a release from this pain.

My father yet lives and for him I am sure that it is a crushing blow.  He's been married to my mother for something like fifty years.  You can't just shake that sort of thing off.  It will burden him for the rest of his life.  That's the negative part.

I'm glad that on the LHI (Logan's Home Invasion) tour I had gotten to spend a couple days with them.  I told my father then that I wouldn't be back for any funerals.  Simply, I don't have the money to jet back to the USA to attend a funeral then jet back to where I live (Eastern Europe and Asia).  "I came to visit you guys while you are both alive."

Normally, males have a very strong bond with their mother.  Yet, I'd never really gotten along - or even 'clicked' with my parents.  At the age of sixteen I'd moved out of the house and begun to work.  Never asked my parents for nor expected anything from them.  It was not a very emotionally tight knit family.  Even tonight (via Skype) I'd asked my father "How are you doing?" and he talked about the paperwork and preparations he needed to make for the funeral.

Discussing emotions is not within our family dynamic.

Yet, a decade or two ago when I had heard that a childhood friend had taken his own life I was literally stunned for an entire day.

Hence, I find my emotional reaction to this situation curious.

Edit:  Please don't say 'our prayers are with you'.  That is as useful as 'raising awareness' and I don't believe in a 'sky daddy'.  I'm putting this up not to garner some sort of sympathy but just to examine my feelings on the matter and share them.  I do hope others are closer to their parents.

And now, to leave you with something to lighten the mood.



FROM THE INTERNET...

Right sign but I'm thinking she wouldn't be smiling like that if she was reading my blog.  OK, maybe she would.  Is this about my blog?  Don't even start with that "You know, there are other things out there people find offensive..." crap.

COSTS

Taxi driver, comes to your door (supposedly) and takes your luggage (well, the backpack anyway) to the car and drives you to the ferry - 100,000 IDR

Slow ferry (not much slower than the fast ferry at tripple the price), 27,000 IDR

Metro Bus ticket from Istanbul to Plovdiv Bulgaria, 60 TRY

Phone charger in Metro Bus station, 1 TRY, got about 15% battery back for that.  Slow.

Bulgaria shopping trip:  Hand full of cherries.  Hand full of strawberries.  Bigger than a fist block of Feta cheese.  Two bottles of inexpensive wine.   Three candy bars.  A banana.   26 LEV.  (About 15 USD).  Nice.

LOCK ON SHOPPING

SHOPPING

My friend who owns the grocery store I always go to had a bunch of ice cream stolen out of his external locked cooler.

Since the only locks protecting it are the usual cheap 'outside of westernized country piece of shit locks a grade schooler can defeat with a screwdriver' variety, he wanted new locks.

Since I know a little about locks, I went with him back to "Praktisch".  Translated from German, the store name is 'Practical'.  Think 'Home Depot'.

Since one of my particular beliefs/stereotypes/prejudices toward Germans is that they can build great stuff, we agreed that any German made locks would be much better than the OOWCPOSLAGSCDWAS variety most people get.

Like most shoppers, the store owner wanted to roam the vast wilderness of crap you don't need in hopes you stumble across what you came for before finding something you didn't  know you can't live without.

Because I am the kind of person I am (a Logan) I headed for the information desk.  Over riding his objections of "I don't think they can speak English" with "I am Logan!", I went and consulted the girls.

When you first start to talk with people in English, you can run into the "Oh, you expect everyone to speak English but you won't learn our language?" thing.  This is to be avoided as it goes nowhere good.

I do this by asking my question then immediately miming what I need in as funny of manner as possible.

If you come across as funny, friendly and maybe a bit insane, indignity comes hard.  Soon, friendly smiles and helpful directions were given.

They even sent a service guy to help us who spoke excellent English.  I complimented him a couple times on it and thanked him for his help.

The equipment was bought.  On the way out, I again thanked the information desk ladies and bid them adieu.



IS THERE A POINT?

Perhaps the biggest difference is that I'm thinking about how they must perceive me rather than paying attention to my internal monologue.  This could be because I don't find myself particularly important to listen to all the time.

Other people are very interesting to me.  I've always said I already know what I am thinking and feeling.  Hence, I try to be more outward looking.  If I'm mad or flustered this comes harder but when other people can tell you are actually paying attention to them and interested in them, they are happy to at least give you directions.

This did backfire a bit at the cafeteria I normally eat at.  Because I've taken the time to learn the girls names who work there and am always asking how they are and such, they tend to pile on my food a bit much.

And I've not the willpower to resist food...

THIS IS ACTUALLY THAT PROJECT YOUR BOSS WANTED DONE

THE LITTLE THINGS

When you are travelling for a long time, you learn to appreciate the little things more.  Not every day is white water rafting in Nepal or exploring a souk in Morocco.  If you are not travelling solo, chances of your experiencing these things dwindles rapidly.

Some examples of things that have made me happy in Bulgaria:

+The lady who knows how to say 'cheers' in English and her entire table raising their glasses to you just to be nice.

+The waitress who laughs at your pantomime while you are trying to explain 'cheese' with pantomime.

+The cashier who is very excited when you say 'hi' because she knows how to say 'goodbye' in English and is just waiting to use it.

+People who think being from the USA is a 'cool exotic place'.

The Bulgarians have been extremely hospitable to me and I am enjoying living here.  After just a couple weeks I'd become pretty ensconced in the neighborhood.  People know me by sight and smile, wave or say hello ("dobry den") when they see me.



PLOVDIV

For just sitting and hanging out, it is fine.  I've no idea why (despite the glowing reviews things like wikitravel have given it) a tourist would come here.  One or two days maximum in the old town is enough to see everything.

I've been told that the local mafia controlled beaches are fine and the mountains are splendid to see but I've seen more than enough beach front property and fuck walking up and down mountains.  I enjoy cigarettes, food and alcohol far too much.



FUTURE POSSIBLE

The current plan after Bulgaria is Macedonia then Albania.  As I'm still addicted to playing my video game, renting an apartment and burrowing into the local scene like a tick is a very strong possibility.  Were I to spend three months in each of those non-EU countries,  that would take me well into winter.  I've no desire to see cold weather again for several years.  Tunisia is a strong possibility for spending part of the winter.  Perhaps Egypt will have stabilized by the time my Tunisian visa runs out and the rest of the winter could be spent there.  After that is a complete mystery.



QUEST FOR CLOTHING

After taking a repeated tour of a street in a taxi looking for a place not actually on that street, I got out and asked around until it was found.  Naturally, this was a high end athletic shop.  Athletes here don't seem to come in XXXL so I was referred to the local mall.   This was a surprise - no idea they had a mall here.  Found some t-shirts there in XXL size which fit like a surgical glove and are about as thick.  Not the colors I'd have chosen either but at a decent price of 10 lev each, I grabbed four.

To celebrate buying clothing which didn't really fit had a helping of McDonald's and self loathing for 12 lev.

As in all of Eastern Europe, your chances of having tomatoes added to a burger normally not containing such is impossible.  Offering extra money, threatening to kidnap their family and torch their house are insufficient inducements to 'have it your way'.  You will have it their way and deal with it.



TIP OR STAY HOME?

For some reason beyond my understanding, in the USA it is alright for employers to pay their waiters and waitresses well below the minimum wage.  They are expected to make enough in tips to increase their wage to a reasonable amount.  I have no idea how this 'culture of tipping' started.  Alone in the USA, you often get service showing the wait person cares about your happiness.

This is all well and fine but the wait staff regularly complain about people not tipping.  Having managed to stay out of that line of work  all my life, I can only imagine the frustration of doing a good job and not getting what you regard as your fair due.

Now, the reverse should also be true.  If the waiter or waitress does a bad job and receives no tip, this should be fine - right?  The tip is suppose to be for doing a good job?  Or is it just an 'entitled' thing?  The patrons of the restaurant paying what the management has managed to dodge due to the USA becoming a 'culture of tipping'?

Nearly every other country in the world does not tip or their tip is rounding up to the next even amount.  In the USA that would mean if your bill is $15.45, you leave $16 and everyone is happy.  Well, actually some wait staff would chase you down and attempt to shame you into giving more - but that's another story.  In the countries that have no tipping, the service is typically indifferent at best, horrible at worst.  The wait staff (yes, I'm sticking to gender neutral as both men and women are working at this job) in most countries typically stand around talking to each other, ignoring the customers.  They are paid just their standard (substandard) wage - that's it.

In the USA, if the wait staff stood around ignoring the customers, many - but not all - people would feel validated in not leaving a tip.  Others would tip a reduced amount, others would leave a full tip.

If the tip is 'to insure promptness', why do people give one for lackluster service?  Why is there an entire movement which states 'if you can't afford to tip 20%, don't eat out'?

Is it another symptom of our entitlement society?  It does seem a bit 'self serving' (pun intended).

Of course, if people who could not afford the 20% tip didn't eat out at all, would the restaurant be able to remain open?  If not, would that cause the wait person to have to find a different job?  This does not seem to have been adequately considered.

Some restaurants have even gone so far as to make tipping mandatory - thus ridding the entire reason for tipping.  You can get horrible service and still be forced to tip.

It is an interesting question for people who live in the USA but I don't think the answer will be difficult to determine - depending on the person's occupation...



COSTS

An entire lamb (guts extra) ready for the oven, feeds fifteen to twenty people or one American, 150 lev.

ELDER SCROLLS ONLINE

WHAT LOGAN DOES EVERY DAY

What does Logan do during the average day in Bulgaria?

Not much - but I'm enjoying that.

To be more specific,

I wake up at some point during the day.  Usually it is late as I like to stay up late.  Sometimes it is pretty early as my medical condition has insomnia as one of the many side effects.  That and pain.  So whenever my insomnia and pain tell me it is time to get out of bed, I do.

I have a couple cups of coffee and some cigarettes to punish my body for waking me.

Then, I wander over to  a nearby grocery.  There, I get to talk to my new friend.  He use to work in the UK and his English is excellent.  He and his girlfriend co-own the grocery store.  There we smoke and talk about anything from recent Bulgarian politics to MMO's.  I think we'll be good friends.

After this is "Logan's fat ass exercise time".  This is  a futile attempt to burn some of the calories I've taken in.  I wander around, maybe snap some photos.

On the way home, grab food for my night meal at one of the restaurants and any other supplies I need at my friend's grocery store.

Shower and tell myself I am a sexy beast in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

Play MMO's until I get hungry.

Eat food.  Continue to play MMO's until I become too tired or drunk to continue.

Maybe watch a movie.

Work on them pearly whites!

Either go to sleep or pass out, depending on the alcohol content.

Get up several times during the night to make sure nobody has stolen my toilet.  Curse old age every time.

Repeat.



READING MATERIAL

Good Article on travel scams.  Also read through wiki travel of the country, city you are going to find out what current scams they are using on the unwary, unlucky and tediously stupid.



ELDER SCROLLS ONLINE (ESO) - my initial impressions

If you have no interest in MMORPG's (AKA MMO's), skip this section.

I've been playing MMO's since 1998.  That's sixteen years.  Holy crap, I've had conversations with people who are younger than that.

Many people won't play a game unless it looks pretty.  I'm playing on low settings, this still looks amazing.


After installing the game

Go here and get this addon.  There are easy to follow instructions there on how to do it.  I'm not even going to go into why to do it but apparently this is a legal addon, as well as the only one I seem to be able to get to work.  Once you start playing the game and figuring out what is going on, you will call my name 'blessed' for having you get it.  My thanks go to my old friend TJ for telling me to get it.  Also, go here and follow these instructions.  They remove the four or five 'splash screens' that only the game developers give a crap about.


Starting out

Not a huge learning curve.  You only have three factions.  Find out which one your friends are playing and join that.  If you pick unwisely, you can still have characters in the other two factions.  You get eight characters per server and they all share one bank account.  Note that there are two different servers, 'American' and 'European'.  Hence, if you really wanted, you can have sixteen total characters.

You heard that right - all of your characters are secret traitors to their factions.  Heck, you can even mail stuff to people in different factions.

Once you've got your faction, there are three races within each.  Pick the one that seems best for whatever class you're going to play.  Or don't - it's not a huge deal.  Some races are more fit for some of the classes but if you want to play a dark elf (who are good at magic) as a tank, you can without being crippled.

Once you get your faction and race, you choose your class.  With all of these things, simply hovering your cursor over it will give you the basic information.

For your first character, there is a bondage tutorial.  For your first character, I recommend it.  Because the people who made ESO like naughty prison movies, once again you start out in a cage.  This is something you are pretty much on your own with.  There may be other confused newbies around running into walls and getting violated with toilet brushes but overall, you're on your own.

As soon as possible within the tutorial, you'll want to go into your controls and game play options.  There is an autoloot box in there.  Clicking yes to that will make you a happy camper - trust me on this.

Once you've gotten out of that, you are in the real world with all the other PC's.

The tutorial is moderately interesting the first time but fortunately subsequent characters have the option of opting out of it.


Character development

When you level up, you get a statistic point.  Just one and you get to pick one of three different easy to figure out statistics to put it in.  Again, you can't really cripple your character by the wrong choice.  If you consistently pick the wrong stat, yes but until you learn about the game (say the first five or ten levels out of fifty) it is not going to kill you.

After putting a point into a statistic, the game will automatically open your skills screen.  This is where you get to read and ponder.

Within each character class are three different ways to play that class.  Find the one that suits you.  Put points into that stuff.  Note that unless you want to put lots and lots of your character's skill points into crafting, you will be stuck on the newbie stuff.  Personally, I love that.  It means that not everyone will be a crafter.  You can gather and sell resources but to get above the newbie level of crafting requires a lot of valuable character points.


Questing

The questing system is fairly standard.  You go to someone and they have stuff for you to do.  "You go fight the hordes of evil, I'll go home!"  Unlike many MMO's, these are much more story based.  Should you feel like reading (I usually don't) you find that you are going through various stories.  They don't seem to have "go fetch me a dozen wolf legs" type quests.

There is a huge drawback for the 'casual player' in the quests.  The quests you do change the world for your character.  If you are solo'ing, this is awesome.  Watch as your actions have an actual impact upon the world!  However, if you group with someone who has already done the quest, it might not work.  Those guys you need to kill?  Not there for him.  He can't see nor interact with them.  Of course you can still get with your buddies and go into 'public dungeons' and have a killing spree or just wander around the amazing world together.  For people who have 'significant others' or buddies they want to adventure with, my advice is for both to make a character who only adventures with that character - that way you are on the same proverbial page.


Fighting and looting

They did it right in this game.  In many MMO's, the person who did either the most damage or final blow to the character gets the loot.  This leads to 'assholeism' of the highest order.  In this game, if you kill something solo, you have about a one in two or one in three chance of getting some sort of loot.  If thirty people all unleash hell upon a hapless critter in the wild, they all still have the same loot chance.  This leads to people 'drive by assisting' you, leading to happy feelings toward other adventurers rather than extreme hatred.  Aside from the harvesting.

Also, very few experience points are to be gained by killing monsters - most comes from questing.  Hence, you never feel as though you are 'grinding'.

Fighting itself is a lot more interesting than standing there and pressing buttons.  There is some 'twitch' to it, but not a lot.  I think they did a good job balancing it to make it more interesting.


Harvesting

This is where it gets competitive.  There is a lot of shit lying around the world waiting for you to grab.  Some acts like the critters - everyone gets a go.  That includes all of the backpacks, sacks, dressers, bookcases (read as potential free skill point in some random skill), urns, barrels and so on.  Other stuff you get to compete for such as herbs, special chests, wood (Got Wood?), ore and so on.  Hunt for these well away from the roads.  The world is big enough that if you go off of the well beaten paths you can feel completely alone.

Getting back to the addon you will hopefully download, those are 'sky shards'.  Using three gives you a free skill point.  The addon simply adds the locations of them to your normal map.


Player vs player (PVP)

I'm not a huge fan of PVP so don't know much about it but here's what I have discovered.

I've not participated in any PVP but once I went with my buddy to the PVP lands.  They are huge.  There are a bunch of castles and forts to capture.  There are a bunch of sky shards to get.  Using points gained in PVP, players can buy siege weapons they keep in their backpack to pull out for use in war.  These help destroy walls and such but have an amazingly short range.

Everyone gets boosted to a very weak level fifty for PVP.  The people who are much stronger are the ones who have hit level fifty are stronger.  The ones who have kept adventuring after level fifty are even stronger.

Since my friend TJ knows a lot more about the PVP area, here's what he says:

"I for one need New things to explore and for some one like me who really enjoys adventuring and exploration ESO Is great. Full voice narration for all quests. Issues and bugs are replied to and worked on within 24 hours. Massive DAOC inspired PVP region thats so large it reminds me of what it must have felt like to be an early explorer in the medieval days. Massive rolling plains and mountains doted by small towns and castles. You may see no one for a hour or so while exploring then you may have a small army of mounted knights with a long tail of squires following behind suddenly ride up over the top of a hill near you causing your heart to skip a beat until you hopefully notice they are friendly and just heading off to siege an enemy fortification in some far off location. Yes there are quests and caves to be explored and found in the PVP area too."

Other activities

In addition to a robust crafting system, there is a ton of exploring to be done.  The world is cool enough to warrant it.  There seems to be a lot of little interesting things but I'm still new to the game.


Guilds

They did them right.  Rather than your character joining a guild, your account does.  So much better.  You can join up to five guilds at once.  This is necessary because the only 'auction house' is the 'guild store'.  You can only sell up to thirty items at one time.  Hence, belonging to one 'adventuring guild' and four 'trading guilds' seems a good way to do it.  This probably also keeps down the number of annoying small guilds.  For a trading guild, it wouldn't make sense to join a small one - less bought and sold.


End game

After a week or two of intensive play I'm no where close to any sort of 'end game', hence know nothing about it.


Summary

If you liked any of the Elder Scrolls games or are a fan of MMO's, I'd recommend picking up this game.  It will cost between $40 and $60 (maybe less by the time you read this).  You get a free month of game play with that.  If you decide you like it, each month is $15 or less.

VARNA TO PLOVDIV BULGARIA

VARNA, BULGARIA

Flag Hostel could have been somewhere I stayed for quite some time but - as often happens - the people running it caused me to move on.

Anyone who knows me well can tell you "If you want Logan to leave the room, turn on the TV."  Double that with 'foreign TV' and 'awful dubbed shit'.  Naturally, the guy running the hostel was interested in watching a good deal of TV in the tiny common area.  The only area with a table for the computer.

I'd checked out "Yo Ho Ho Hostel" which Adam had mentioned.  They're a party hostel with a chummy hostel vibe.  Nearly full compared with the nearly empty of Flag Hostel.  Noisier as well - people who believe music should always be on.

I prefer silence.  And headphones.

Varna itself was 'nice'.  Not thrilling, but nice.  Really nothing all that interesting aside from the amazing Alba Restaurant.  One restaurant isn't really enough to make me stay.  There are also various day trips one can make from there but it really wasn't of interest to me.  I just wasn't 'feeling it'.

So I left my keys and lock on my pillow and ninja'ed out early in the morning to catch a morning train...

Because train station restrooms are such a joy, I availed myself.  Four of the six cubicals were blocked off because cleaning is hard - despite they charge you for using them.  The remaining two had been frequently fouled by their inaccurate loathsome clientele.  Used my bags to barricade myself into the squat toilet as the door locks had long ago been destroyed.  The six squares of toilet paper they give you are never enough, be sure to pack your own.

To celebrate not getting a fatal disease from the bio-hazard bathroom, had a couple espressos and smoked some cigarettes then escaped by train.  I am a leaf on the wind!



ARRIVAL IN PLOVDIV

Even if you knew where to go, it's too far to walk from the train station to the old town.  The good news is it's only 3.50 lev by taxi.  Because the guy was chatty and nice, I just gave him five.

The first place I checked out was "Hiker's Hostel".  This was a dirty, nasty "What the hell" place for seven euros.  "Would you like it?"   Er, gosh, I might be back later.  Or slit my wrists and die in a fire.  The next place I checked out was a huge marble building for nine euros a night.  Gosh.  Much better.  And I have a dorm room to myself.  Yeah.  I can live with this.  Glad I walked the extra ten meters to 'Plovdiv Guesthouse'.  The downside is the owners were pretty nitpicky in their pricing.  An extra euro for this, an extra euro for that.  Silly.

Did a little exploration of the town - it seems interesting.  More scrutiny tomorrow.



MAKING RAKIA

In England obtaining things from a 'fellow you met down at the pub' is a normal way of doing business.  Especially for Hagrid.

It's where I obtain information.  When talking to a couple guys in a Varna bar (Bulgaria), they told me about home made rakia.  It's a big deal here.  You can make up to 10-12 liters per year for 'personal use'.  After that, a heavy tax of a euro or two is charged per liter.  This is an old law that's been enforced for quite awhile.  As a result, many secret stills and hidden brewing lairs are set up by 'hicks' around the country.  People will have their drink!



FOOD IN BULGARIA

Thus far, my ranking of restaurant food for three of the countries in Eastern Europe:

Bulgaria - I've only had great food here and look forward to eating more.
Republic of Georgia - Good, but the selection is limited.
Ukraine - McDonald's tastes better and is cheaper.



LANGUAGES

I often marvel at how many languages I go through in one day.  This is not to say "Oh, I am cool, I can speak lots of languages."  Anyone who has heard me speak various languages knows that my vocabulary is severely limited.  Mostly this is a combination of such a bad memory things leave after a couple minutes and laziness.  I've never sat down and studied any language other than German.

Even with an extremely slipshod 'learn as you go' program you can still pick up a lot of stuff - and it is all useful.

If I actually spoke a few languages fluently, I'd probably not even think it worth mentioning that I was talking to someone in Russian, etc.



RUSSIAN TERRORISTS

Bulgarian's attitude toward Russians.

Unlike in Ukraine where it could be kindly summarized as 'mixed feelings', here it seems to be neutral or against.

At a corner store, I made the mistake of speaking in Russian and was told, "я не хочу россиянам".  ('Yanie ha choo Ruscianam', aka 'I don't want Russians').  Since it rhymes, I countered with 'yanie ha choo Pikachu!'

Fortunately they knew who Pikachu was, thought it was hilarious and I was forgiven for speaking in the language of what they called 'terrorists'.

Does this mean all languages from this part of the world sound the same to Logan?  Yes.  Hence, I'm going to stick with English and German.  So far, about 60% of my conversations have been in English, 40% in German and 5% in Russian.  Note, this study has a 5% margin of error.

German just keeps on being useful.  Unless I speak to Germans who all speak flawless English.  Also, unlike foreigners who have learned German, natives tend to say "Ah, you speak decent German, not a bad accent - you must be totally fluent.  Into the deep end with you!"  Where I drown.  Not with other foreigners.  There is no deep end!   Much easier.



LOGAN'S TRAVEL MENTOR

Folks, the normally camera shy (he's a private person) Adam allowed me to get a couple photos for posting on Facebook with him. In addition to showcasing my extraordinarily large Ukrainian given (well, OK, self inflicted) gut they are the only photos of Adam. He channels the Evil Cat many of you have come to know. This guy has had several extremely interesting careers. I won't mention them because he is a private person. I will say they are outside the 'norm' enough that they would make an interesting book. He's been traveling seasonally for close to three decades, has a couple of masters degrees, is contemplating a doctorate and a teaching position. He's been approached by various newspapers who wanted deep background on different shit - which he doesn't like to give them. Possibly because he knows they're just looking for a sound bite. Yes, he is wearing a 'Blackwater' tshirt. Why no, we won't go in to how he got it but I will say he didn't have to pay for it. This guy has been my travel mentor for about three years and knows a lot of shit. I appreciate learning from him, making his life hell and occasionally breaking his toilet seats. Shitting all over and destroying your property is how Logan shows affection.



KEEP YOUR SHIT TIGHT

Beyond this you are inconveniencing other guests, making the hostel look messy etc. When people see your stuff like this, you get a 'neutral' mark. Nobody will ever say "Hey - thanks for keeping your gear tight". They will think dark thoughts about you if it is 'looser' than this. Because I keep my gear tight it doesn't count against me like so many other things I do and say.  One of the things I learned from Adam I'd have never thought of on my own.

If someone says "But I didn't sign up for the military!"  If you did you'd be cleaning.  And doing push ups.  Communal living means respect.  If even a couple people get sloppy with their gear, the room goes to hell quick.

You should be able to access everything in the dark.  Only the biggest dickheads turn on the light "just for a second" to get stuff.  If you have to use a flashlight that's OK but a pro knows where all of their stuff is by touch.



VIDEOS

Train in Bulgaria



COSTS

Train Varna to Plovdiv, first class 26 lev
Espressos at train station, 1-2 lev
Cigarettes, 5 lev/pack

BUS, BUS, MAGIC BUS!

ODESSA TO VARNA

Because long time readers of the blog enjoy Logan's pain like a vampire does blood, here is a recounting of the trip.

The mortar shells of the rebels had still failed to be launched as I boarded the bus.  The paint on the side proclaimed it to be a 'first class bus'.  They adhere to rigid truth in advertising all over the world.

Toward Moldova the bus plodded, picking its way carefully through roads already prepared for the next post apocalyptic "Fall Out" game.  Swerving down the one lane road the driver decided the grass was continuously greener anywhere but his assigned lane.  Many smaller cars and a couple other buses were ruthlessly bullied onto the shoulder or worse.  Any bus calling itself a 'sleeper' was turned into a lair on these roads.

Along the sides of the road, various stone crosses had been set up in spots where the drunk, unlucky or careless had met their end.  Like a ship offloading floating mines to honor sailors lost at sea, these will not only see but cause more death.

The hamlets in both Ukraine and Moldova were alike in that the traffic passing through received a lingering look as though this would be the day's entertainment.  Gray sullen buildings surrounded by unremarkable fields, as exciting as a drive through Kansas.

Felt sorry for the Ukrainians at the Moldovan border.  This is a quiet dull border with little traffic.  The offices are made from three shipping containers so that you know what living in a freezer is like.  A zombie outbreak would probably be a welcome change of pace.

In the past, I've fired pistols, shotguns, sub machine guns, assault rifles, machine guns, grenade launcher and so on.  Today was the first day I'd ever been 'felt up' by a sub machine gun.  It was on the guard's back and the bus was pretty narrow when he turned.  Felt like he then bobbed up and down a few times.  Afterward, I wanted a cigarette and a cuddle with the SMG but he was gone.  Heartbreaking.

A class of young, chattering, enthusiastic and drunk naval academy students took up most of the bus.  At a border, one of the girls checked out the outhouses.  Simple wooden buildings with a hole cut in the floor and twenty male visitors with bad aim.  "So sorry!"  she shouted.  "This is Ukraine!"

I laughed politely though this wasn't the first time I'd heard that phrase.

All of the currency exchanges were either closed or lied about not having dollars and euros - despite being able to see them in the drawer.  Rather than add to my mini 'Jason Bourne money collection' I exchanged with the professor leading the maritime class at a very favorable rate.  For him.

The bus ride started at 1 PM and arrived at 8 AM the next day.  We'd passed through Ukraine, Moldova, Romania and into Bulgaria.  These borders were all lightly trafficked.  A border guard would board the bus, collect the passports, leave with them and they'd return from a bus worker stamped later.  The seat of the first class was uncomfortable enough I feel as though I'd received a spanking.  Not that perverted 'please spank me' British thing but an American 'go pick a switch'.



BUS PROTOCOLS

Taking long distance buses within the USA is a fairly rare occurrence.  Generally, the people using something like Greyhound are either extremely poor, foreigners, people without a license or convicts just released from/broke out of jail.  The toilets generally work, regular breaks are made and the only thing you have to remember to do from time to time is jump up brandishing a shiv and yelling "Don't touch my stuff!"

1)  Watch the driver carefully.  Not to see if he will snap or drive you into oncoming traffic though this is always a possibility.

If the driver gets out for a smoke, you may have time to dash to the bathroom.  Should he sit down to eat, chow down.  When the driver is climbing back into the bus you should be right behind him.  People often get left behind thinking the bus will wait for them.  Sometimes it does.  Those incompetent and inconsiderate enough to hold up an entire bus rightly receive the hatred of everyone else on the bus.

2)  Use the restroom whenever possible.  Finding out when the next stop is can be tricky.  You should always carry toilet paper and water with you - don't expect to find either en-route.  Even when you are assured the bus comes equipped with a toilet they are usually locked because nobody wants to clean them.  Or broken.  Or so disgusting and cramped that using them would leave you in worse shape than just wearing an adult diaper.

The night before traveling on a long trip is not the time to try a new restaurant or 'interesting' food.  The less you eat and drink before leaving and while on the road the happier you'll be.

3)  Guard your gear!  Tourists love to leave iPads and other electronic gizmos worth three months of someone's gross pay on the seat when they go to the bathroom or fall asleep then are indignant when they wake up without it.

Valuables such as computers go in a small backpack that goes everywhere with you.  Passports and credit cards are often put into this pack but a security pouch worn under the clothing is much safer.  Losing those important things while overseas can mean a week of fighting with bureaucracy rather than enjoying your vacation.

4)  Talk to your fellow passengers - especially the natives!

It requires being outgoing.  People traveling with others generally only speak with their companions.  They miss out on meeting interesting foreigners.  On the most recent bus trip, I met up with a physicist who was a teacher at a naval academy and who spoke six languages fluently.  Putting yourself out there and talking to people also garners goodwill with other passengers.  They will happily point out important information you would have missed not speaking the language - this break is only five minutes, there is something interesting/historical/significant, this is your stop and so on.

5)  On long trips going to different countries, always exchange local currency before boarding the bus.

  Although most border crossings have currency exchanges, your bus may not go anywhere near it or have time for you to use it.  The currency exchange may not have dollars or euros for you.  They may lie about this.  Take care of it before you board the bus.


Prices (Bulgaria)

Fine dining; main course, appetizer, two beers - 22 lev
Wine, from wine store - 10 lev
Bag repair, 4 lev
Bag re-repair, 2 lev (it was my fault on this one)