This morning we headed back to where our walking tour took us but fortunately avoided seeing the question lady, as she asks too many questions. First stop in the old town was the Roman theatre. We had the place to ourselves and numerous cats. Unheard of to have Roman ruins to one selves so we took our time and savoured the site. The cats however don’t seem to like people and stay well away. It turned out the guy who looks after the site, also looks after the cats. He adopts them out and takes donations for cat food to feed them. The theatre still has performances mostly in summer it seems.
After the cat guy we found a lovely art dealer in town. He was a very friendly, helpful guy who wasn’t too pushy and shared a distaste for group tours as they just rush through places and don’t stop to look. Claire helped pay for his retirement, with a small contribution from myself. Funny thing was we went to his wives store and he was there also….. We never saw his wife, just the art guy, twice.
We then headed back up to the fortress, to have a look again from the top before finding a nice leafy restaurant nearby. Fully aware my beer drinking days will be numbered in Morocco I downed another Kamenitza beer which is beat out Zagorka easily for my favourite Bulgarian beer. we then went into the Ethnological Museum, which looked at a lot of the regions industries and people, especially as the regions was renowned for its supply of Rose oil in the late 1800’s. The house the museum is in, ios the real star though and its worth seeing the large room upstairs.
As we were leaving the museum, the place became overrun with small school children, who we noted did not sit on or play on the grass. This bizarre Bulgarian custom is no closer to being solved. As we wandered another park tonight heading for a restaurant even couples getting too close for comfort seem to not go on the grass either and just stop and make out in the middle of the pathway. I mentioned to Claire, that the park that had the restaurant also had a “Summer Theatre”. Problem was the summer theatre was playing Bulgarian heavy metal, that scared all the cats away (probably because it sounded like cats being tortured) and also scared us away from the restaurant in the park as we couldn’t hear each other talk over the screams.
On the way home we noted that even on a Friday night, the drunken youth of Plovdiv don’t go near the grass either. The grass it appears is sacred in Bulgaria and we don’t know why. I may never know why as tomorrow I fly to Morocco via Doha. Yes Doha is four hours in the wrong direction, but it was also cheaper than all the alternatives by a long way. I have no idea what the internet will be like in Morocco or how frequent updates will be. My main concern is not getting anyone on tour that makes me wonder how they even boarded a plane to Morocco. So adios until Morocco, the last country on my 40th anniversary world tour.