Jen contemplating how to instruct her leg to move forward. Apparently, there is a rebellion underway.
We’ve been to Pamporovo once before, booked in for a few nights and stayed seventeen. It’s a gem tucked away in the Rhodope Mountains which border Bulgaria and Greece. We are on the Bulgarian side although the language may as well be Greek for all we understand. There’s a tranquility in the region which allows a person to absorb the surrounding beauty without any of the usual noise. This is further enhanced, we’d guess, because of the period. The region is a ski resort which means, of course, that the main action occurs during winter months. Therefore, it’s incredibly quiet and peaceful without visitors. To illustrate the point, we are staying in an apartment complex; it appears we may be the only current residents. Over the recent long weekend during which the country celebrated Independence Day, we counted 12 vehicles in the parking area—that was a rush period. There are another 3 or 4 buildings/hotels behind and to our sides which appear equally empty. Wherever we travel in Pamporovo, we notice the same look at each complex.
Moving to the next ski slope (two across from the above), we head down the last segment, the fourth one. Our residence is about 250 meters to the right of the village. The national flag is outstanding in this environment.
Never thought this gentle woman would spend so much time struggling in the bush.
Homeward bound, no railway available.
On the top sits an army base. Loved the contrast of colors of the two hills.
Bulgarian First Division chase after Lazarow, Second Division, multiplied by one.
The hills are alive, without music, but strike a note/s with their own charm.