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Part 7: From Kavarna to Balchik

3rd of May 2004•13:02 hours

Crossing the border went quite successful yesterday . Walking for a couple kilometres and passing four checkpoints. There was even a money exchange office, where I exploited the waiting time. As I walked further I had luck: already pretty soon a minibus basses by with destination Kavarna. The little bus is already pretty full with the local elderly and young people and the bus passes through picturesque villages with on the background the scenery of nature reserves along the coast. In Kavarna I end up on an empty dead bus station, no centre to be seen anywhere and no information with timetables of leaving buses. Also nobody speaks another language than Bulgarian and I still have to get used to the Cyrillic bookwriting and have no dictionary with me. I decide will hitch hike to Balchik. If nobody would want to pick me up, then the trip would be approximately two hours of walking, I value.

First of all itseems that I might end up walking: there is little car traffic on the main road, expensive cars tear beyond whereas the other cars are all full of people. After half an hour of walking neverthelessa car stops with a pleasantly looking older man. He brings me to the road exit of Balchik. From there it is still half an hour walking to the centre, firstly passing suburbs and then over a hillock with a breathtaking view on the black sea and white red ochre rocks. Underway I felt myself a curiosity again, as if I was walking nude. Everyone looks at to me as if they have never seen a foreigner and start talking to me. A nice man tells me that he just came back from the Netherlands to buy a second hand car. I make use of the occasion by asking him for a place to sleep. He rings right-away to friend, who lets small houses near the sea. Within some minutes I am picked up by car of a woman whom I pay 10 euro for the overnight in such a little beachhouse.

The town is pretty picturesque with its red ochre rocks, an old mosque and typical Bulgarian houses. But especially the port is really something for me, with dozens of little wooden fisher boats. The fishermen sell their freshly caught where directly on marktje to the port: small and larger glowing examples. A little further away several sea bridges are to be seen with more fishermen. On the other direction is a yacht-basin and promenade with some lost tourists like me. It is still nicely warm outside when I decide to eat some fish hours in the open air at half past 6, but I forget that the lady still has my passport and that she would bring it back at 7 o’ clock. When I return to the maisonnette there is no passport, but I am sleepy from the seabreeze and the short nights in Vama Veche, so I fall directly into a deep sleep. The next morning I wait the whole time for the owner of the maisonettes, but she does not come. I use the time with writing picture postcards. At 11 o’clock are my patience is finished and I decide to visit the ‘Quiet Nest’ castle with botanic garden, but I leave behind a note for the lady. This Dvoreca is quite impressing and I can’t stop making pictures of the scenery. When I get back return my passport is kindly dropped on my backpack so it is possible for me to delete all the emergency plans with embassies et cetera out of my head. Let’s put my backpack on the back and leave to Varna!

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