Great Journey 🏍 Day 271
Many years ago, back when I was (also) still young, I was in Sozopol once. For 4 weeks at a stretch.
We drove from Berlin to Sozopol in a rickety orange (for connoisseurs: marino yellow!) 500-Mark Passat estate car (for connoisseurs: Variant!). Along the war line in what was then Yugoslavia.
I still remember that our second driver spent the whole journey either crying from lovesickness or then sleeping from tiredness. I couldn't drive yet, so my boyfriend at the time drove the whole way (two and a half days?). I also remember that it was July and it was well over 35° Celsius in our Passat and outside.
The Coke bottles frozen in Berlin had already thawed out in Hungary (and tasted awful!) and in Yugoslavia we were not allowed to leave the car. In Sofia, our alternator died and when we finally arrived in Sozopol, we slept for 2 days straight.
Or maybe even several weeks? Because I can't really remember daytime activities. But I do remember lots of soft ice cream with even more pickled warm figs, melon for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and beach. Lots and lots of beach.
I also remember that one morning all the tourist cars were stolen. Except for our jewel, which was parked at an angle on the road with a shattered side window. Why? We had one of the first automatic transmissions. The thugs couldn't do anything with it and left our treasure standing there.
Before we leave Sozopol for the south today, I want to see if the holiday house from before is still standing. And I arrive in the so-called new town. Nothing looks like it did back then. The little houses and the garage cafés have given way to medium-sized hotels. The promenade is covered with fancy beach bars. Only the beach has remained. And it's still just as beautiful as it was - well - probably 30 years ago...
#OmaTalesfrombefore # #damalswars
