The drive from Skopje to Sofia was the longest of the trip, about three and a half hours over the Deve Bair border. At the crossing the officers took our fingerprints and photographs for the new EU entry system, which took a couple of minutes, and then we were in Bulgaria. You notice the change right away: the roads get smoother, the signs switch to Cyrillic, and the euro is suddenly in use. Sofia is a compact city, and our hotel was a short walk from Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, whose gold domes glowed in the evening light. We ate lunch at Shtastlivetsa on Vitosha Boulevard, a big, stylish room with a long Bulgarian menu, and the truffle and porcini pasta was a standout.
The next morning we walked through the centre. The Rotunda of St. George is the oldest building in the city, and the Roman Serdica ruins run right under the modern streets and metro. You step down from a busy pavement and find yourself looking at a stone wall that is older than almost anything else in Europe. We spent the afternoon there, and then dinner at Cosmos, where the chef reimagines old Thracian recipes with a few modern touches. The tarator was the best either of us had ever had, and the kachamak and the reimagined moussaka were close behind. It's the most ambitious kitchen in Sofia, and it's worth the trip alone.
Plovdiv was the day trip. It's about an hour and a half on the motorway, and it is the oldest continuously inhabited city in Europe. The Roman Theatre of Philippopolis is one of the best-preserved in the world and still hosts performances, and the Old Town climbs up through steep cobbled lanes lined with brightly painted Revival houses. On the main pedestrian street, the marble seats of an ancient stadium sit right under the walkway, which is the kind of thing you only see in Plovdiv. Lunch was in Kapana, the old artisan quarter, where makers' studios and small galleries line the narrow streets. We ducked into a few shops and came out with things we didn't need and were glad to have.
Our last morning was a slow walk through Sofia's Central Market Hall and past the mineral-water taps near Banya Bashi, where locals fill their jugs. We had a bowl of soup at Supa Star, which is a quick soup bar with six daily soups, and then went to the Museum of Socialist Art on the way to the airport. It's an outdoor garden of toppled communist-era statues, including Lenin and the giant red star from the Party House. It is funny and strange, and it was the perfect last stop. Dinner that night was Moma, a townhouse full of Bulgarian regional dishes done with a modern hand: the patatnik from the Rhodopes, duck roasted in a dough crust, and kavarma.
Reflection: Four new countries and eight nights in the Balkans. Bulgaria was the most surprising of them, with the Roman layers under Sofia and Plovdiv's painted streets. It is a country that rewards a slow pace.