An Early Start

Thursday morning was an early start in our house. By early I mean OMG it's early, a bit like daft o'clock in the morning early. It was 3AM, and another trip to Sofia airport loomed. It seemed like everything was being done on automatic pilot. Fortunately, we had planned ahead. Bags and cases had been packed, bus and plane tickets were to hand, passport too. Even the car was parked in the lane outside so that our neighbours wouldn't be woken up by creaking gates, or security lights coming on like a breakout from Colditz castle. Even the kettle had been filled, and mugs for tea and coffee were ready and waiting. We had even prepared something to eat for the journey, so that only had to go from the fridge and into a cool bag. The biggest problem was trying to persuade the dogs and cats that they had had enough beauty sleep. They just raised their heads as if to say, "If we wanted to get up at this ridiculous time of day we would have woken you." Eventually we managed to persuade them that it really was a good idea, although they were probably not totally convinced, as it was still dark outside and a there was a persistent drizzle. Fenny, our Boxer, was not impressed, and as is his way started puffing and blowing, just to make his disgust known.

What probably finally persuaded him was the promise of an early breakfast. He does enjoy his food. Now with it being dark, it meant going from the house to up under the barn, and possibly stepping in something that I would rather not. The easiest way around this is to use a head torch. So there I was like a demented Dalek, shepherding dogs and cats through different gates so that they could get to their breakfasts. By the light of the head torch I could see that not only was there the drizzle, but also a mist. So maybe getting up quite so early was not such a bad idea after all, and it certainly helped to bring me round to full consciousness. That all important first coffee of the day also helped. Bags and cases were quietly taken out and put in the back of the car. A final loo break, and a check that everything was locked back up and we were ready to start the first leg of our journey.

Given that I had noticed the mist we decided to start out slightly earlier than planned. It wasn't until we got to the next village that the mist soon became a fog, and living in a rural area the roads twist and turn so we slowed to a crawl. They have also been stripping out the undergrowth and vegetation at the sides of the roads, which is great when you can see where you are going. There are normally silver leafed plants, which the headlights pick out, so you can tell where the road ends and the verge begins. Because they had been stripping things out they were no longer there, how inconvenient. Not only that but the machinery that they had been using had spread mud all over the road making things twice as difficult. Fortunately we didn't have any other traffic, or suicide Badgers, to worry about this early in the morning as we crawled along. Eventually the fog once again gave way to mist, and we could once again see where we were going without looking like a pair of Japanese snipers peering through the windscreen. Our route takes us across four level crossings, and we had to stop at two of them to let trains pass. It was a good job we left that bit earlier, and we eventually arrived in Gorna to a steady, but light rain.

Another part of my preparations came into play when our taxi arrived to take us over the hill into VT. The bus now goes from the South bus station, and not from outside Hotel Etar. The bus station has recently been refurbished, and it was light, dry and warm. Apparently the loos are good too, and I can personally vouch for the Cappuccino, even if it comes from a machine. Our bus turned up out to the front of the bus station, and once the cases were placed in the baggage compartment, and we had located our seats, the next leg of our journey could begin. It was still dark.

As the morning slowly got lighter, the rain seemed to get heavier. There was a film playing, but it was at least the 4th time that I had seen it, so I was spending most of my time nosing out of the window at the damp and soggy countryside. As we approached the series of tunnels and bridges on the motorway, it started snowing. Big fat flakes being driven by the wind. So far we had dealt with drizzle, mist, fog, light rain, heavy rain, and now snow was thrown in for good measure. We finally arrived at the bus station in Sofia, where I joined in the scrum to reclaim the cases and bags. Next it was a taxi out to the airport, to join a queue which didn't seem to move for the check in desks. Finally we got to the head of the queue, and Net was checked in, all that remained for her to do was go through the security bit, which is where we parted, and I could do the morning's trip in reverse.

As usual I decided to get the Metro back to the bus station, so that meant waiting for the shuttle bus to go from Terminal 1 round to Terminal 2. When we got out of the taxi I hadn't really noticed how windy it had got, as we had gone straight into the Terminal. I soon realised as I waited for the shuttle bus, the wind was driving the rain under the canopy too, and it felt more like winter. The trip round the airport, and on the Metro was uneventful, and after the usual change I arrived back at Central station. I was even able to get a bus ticket on the next bus which was due to leave in 20 minutes. There were queues everywhere apart from the loo, so I had to forego my usual coffee and go back outside to wait for the bus to take me back to VT. Once again the same film was playing, even though it was a different bus. Back into VT and it was still raining, and from the size of the puddles it had been doing so all day. I got a taxi back over the hill into Gorna, and for once the hill hadn't made any difference to the weather, as it was still raining there too.

Our neighbours had asked if I could pick them up a pizza on my way back. Pizza sounded good to me too, so I had a quick wander round Kaufland and grabbed a couple, one for them and one for me. Finally back to the car, and the drive home. I must have been tired, as I couldn't remember where all of the potholes were in the various roads, as they were hiding under puddles. I found a few though, which reminded me where they were. Back into the village and I did my Domino's bit, by delivering the pizza to our neighbours. Then I could finally get indoors and sort out the four legged welcoming committee, and eventually myself. There is definitely something to be said for finally being able to relax, indoors with what was only my third cup of coffee that day.

Yesterday morning, and Polly decides to get her own back by wanting to be let out at 6 o'clock. It was still cold, and though not raining everything felt damp and soggy. So yesterday the fire was lit early, I think that I earned some bonus brownie points from the various cats and dogs. I've yet to tell them that the clocks change tonight, so they will get an hour's less sleep.
A few weeks time and I have to do it all again.

There and Back Again Again

Once upon a time I used to drive backwards and forwards to Sofia airport. That was until someone suggested getting one of the regular buses, which can save a lot of potential hassle. Even something as simple as that can cause logistical problems when you have a temperamental car. The first thing was to sort out the bus tickets, so that meant a trip over the hill into VT. Now as luck would have it my better half was booked into the hairdressers, so rather than me hanging around I thought that would be an ideal time to kill two birds with one stone. So I went off in search of a taxi driver. As luck would have it he spoke a little English too. So not only was I able to get the required bus tickets, but I was also able to arrange an early morning pick up. I know that I could have booked the tickets online, but I prefer to actually have them in my grubby little hands. Parking in VT isn't ideal at the best of times, so we thought a better solution would be to park in Gorna, and then get the taxi over the hill again. A couple of days before the trip I phoned the taxi driver just to confirm the arrangements, so if you ever get to read this many thanks Paco.

Come the day of the races, or the airport trip, it was an early start. It was so early that even the alarm clocks for the crickets and frogs hadn't woken them up yet. The dogs and cats weren't very impressed at their early wake up calls either, but an early breakfast and they forgot all about it. So with the menagerie sorted out, we had time for a last minute check of things, and that all important coffee. Those that live out here will be aware of the bit of weather that we have been having recently, thunderstorms and a bit of wind. Out here in the back of beyond that often means we get fog early in the morning, so we thought that it might be prudent to leave slightly earlier than planned.

It turned out to be quite a wise move, as not only did we have fog, but the wind had also brought branches down in the road. The car did behave itself though, until I had almost reached my planned parking area. Only then did she throw a wobbly and decide to have a tantrum. I have no idea what is wrong with it, the mechanic has had the diagnostic thingie on it and he is none the wiser. Filters have been changed, the tank has been emptied and cleaned, the fuel pump has been changed, various sensors also changed. If we let her cool down she is fine so it is something temperature related. The most important thing was that we got to where we wanted to be. Paco picked us up just as the dawn was breaking, and took us to the bus stop. The little cafe was just opening, which was fortunate as they also have loos there. Always an important consideration, even if they could have benefited from an air freshener or three. Another coffee was in order to try and dispel memories of the aromatic facilities. The old lady behind the counter was a lovely person, and seemed a little surprised that two half asleep Brits could mumble almost coherently in Bulgarian with her. She even wanted all of my change.

Even while we were stood outside drinking our coffees, waiting for the bus, we were chatting with a young Bulgarian woman in a mixture of languages. It turned out that she had been working as a Nanny not that far from where I grew up. Not only is it a small world, but it seems to be shrinking. Unlike last time, this didn't seem to be the quiet bus, which was lucky for the driver as he spent the whole trip nattering with his mate. The sun was rising in the sky, and the day was warming up, and the fog was turning to mist before disappearing totally. Meanwhile the temperature in the bus was getting warmer and warmer. How nice of him to have the heating on so that we all arrived in Sofia part cooked, but he did get us there slightly early. The usual taxi hawkers were there inside the bus station, and we had a choice, we could either attempt the Metro system or get a taxi to the airport.

The taxi was the better idea as we didn't know how long the journey would take on the Metro, and looking at the traffic it seemed to be rush hour. The taxi driver we had must have been a retired racing driver, as every space between cars ahead was a challenge. Or perhaps he used to work on the dodgem cars at an old fair ground. Eventually we arrived at the correct terminal, if I hadn't pointed out he was lining up to take us to the wrong one, we could have been treated to the grand tour. With my good lady wife safely checked in and through passport control and customs, I now had the journey back to look forward to.

Earlier this year I wrote a blog about using the Metro as an alternative option for getting to and from the airport, and now was my chance to try out my own information. The first thing that I had to do was find the shuttle bus, did it leave from the arrivals or departure area? I eventually noticed it, as it was leaving from the departure terminal bit. It had been cunningly concealed behind some form of press interview/scrum which was taking place. There now seems to be extra bollards all over the place, preventing a lot of vehicular access, so where the marked bay should be it might not be able to get to it now. Not to be outdone I thought that I would once again take my life in my hands and get a taxi round to terminal 2. If you get one of the OK Supertrans taxis from outside the terminal they will charge you a flat rate of 10 Leva to go between terminals. I didn't mind as I was on a mission, and it also gave me a chance to try something new. The good thing was that I wasn't tied by time, so I could have waited for the next shuttle bus. However terminal 2 held the promise of coffee and loos, probably in that order of priority, so a taxi it was. At least this taxi driver didn't think that he was Ayrton Senna reincarnated, as the trip between terminals was rather sedate compared to the earlier journey.

The first thing that struck me was how clean the Metro station looked. The second thing was the drunk man slumped against the wall being spoken to by the Police, perhaps the world's underground stations are a natural habitat for them. The lady in the kiosk was pleasant and helpful when I got my ticket. So ticket in hand I went round the corner to get onto the platform. There are automatic barriers which you have to use your ticket to pass through, so once I fed the right end in the gates opened and i was on the platform. Everything was clearly laid out, with an information board indicating I only had to wait 4 minutes for the next train. It was on time, clean and only suffering from a couple of bits of internal graffiti, which made a pleasant change from London's underground. At the moment there are only the 2 underground lines M1 and M2, with plans for a 3rd in the near future.

Even on the train you get plenty of information about which station you are arriving at, and which station will be next. They even tell you if you need to change trains. All done in both Bulgarian and English, which is very helpful when you have been awake since daft o'clock. At Serdika station I had to change to get onto the M2 line. That wasn't that clear until I noticed people scuttling away to the side of the stairs, and then I noticed a sign saying M2. Down a few stairs to the main concourse above the platforms. There are lifts there for anyone with heavy suitcases or slight mobility problems. On the concourse you are faced with a choice of platforms, one says to Lozenets and the other to Obelya. I could see a map down at the platform level so I headed for the busiest platform which was the Lozenets one. I was still trying to decipher the map when the train arrived. So following the masses I got on it, and you've guessed it, it was the wrong direction. So I got off at the next station, the Palace of Culture (NDK), and got on the next train going in the right direction. Three stops later and I was at the Central Railway Station. Then it was just a case of following the exit signs, they even point you towards the Central Bus Station too.

Into the bus station to buy a ticket back to VT and then outside to wait for the next bus, to take me on the next leg of my round trip. The bus journey itself was fairly uneventful, apart from the fact that I was getting pretty knackered by then. I think I must have been suffering from nodding dog syndrome, or my neck had suddenly been made from elastic. I couldn't even focus on my book. I did try to sleep, but I'm sure that every time I was just about to nod off the driver went through a ploughed field, or the wheels resembled the old threepenny bits (which some of us are old enough to remember).

Back into VT and I was in dire need of another coffee. I even used the facilities again which would be enough to wake a narcoleptic from their slumbers. Fortunately I remembered to hold my breath. Another taxi back over the hill to the car, which was conveniently parked in the shade, so everything had cooled down and stayed cool. A little bit of shopping and it was time for the final leg of the journey, and home. The only problem being that the roads had heated up during the day, and the air was very humid as though another thunderstorm was approaching. I stopped halfway home to let the engine cool, but when the clouds began to gather and darken I decided to push on. As sure as eggs are eggs, with the first rumble of thunder the car threw another wobbly. So there was nothing to do apart from wait until things had cooled down enough to actually get me home. As luck would have it I was home, and had packed the shopping away, and sorted the animals out before the heavens opened once more. One day we will actually discover what is causing this problem with the car, but it only happens during the summer. Thank heavens for buses, taxis, and the Metro.

Going Underground

A quick look at the calendar shows that we are now in April, it is so easy to lose track of the days here in Bulgaria. Which means that Baba Marta has packed her bags for another year. The Storks are back, there is blossom on the fruit trees and daffodils are nodding their heads in the gardens. I think that we can say that Spring is definitely here, and as we all know following Spring we have the long awaited Summer. Summer is also the time when families come out to stay in Bulgaria. Not only that, those of us living here also start to get itchy feet, and start to plan our own Summer getaways. Some will choose to explore different parts of Bulgaria, whereas others will have their sights set further afield. Whether it be family coming into Sofia, or yourselves leaving from there, the common link is the airport.

So let us take those flying out, as for anyone flying in this hopefully handy guide will operate back to front. Many choose not to drive and leave their cars in the long stay car parks at the airport. This tends to give them one of two options to get to Sofia, either by train, or by bus. Fortunately the Central Bus and Railway stations stand almost side by side on Knyaginya Marie Louise Blvd, not that far from the Lions Bridge. Previously, to get from either place out to the airport, involved dealing with taxi drivers and their somewhat erratic tariff schemes, which in some cases cost the unwitting 100 Leva. As of today, April 2nd, there is another option, as the Metro line out to the airport has opened, and the price of a ticket in 1 Lev, for anywhere on the Metro.

As is always the case with something new, there are going to be people worried about how to use the thing, but hopefully this blog will help as I haven't found anything in English yet. So first of all, if you have arrived in Sofia's Central Bus Station you need to wander over to the Central Railway Station, but please remember to watch out for buses and taxis. Especially the taxis, as they know where you are going, and you are one fare less for them. Once you have safely reached the Railway Station you will need to find the Metro, so look for the big blue M above a blue chevron. Tickets can be bought at the ticketing desks or from machines. The Metro is underground, so you will need to go down steps, at the moment I don't know about disabled access, but if in doubt ask.

You won't be surprised to learn that this station is called Central Railway Station (Централна Гара) and is on Line 2 (that's the blue line for you and me). The airport is on Line 1 (the red one), so you will need to change platforms. The station where you do this is the main interconnecting point for the Metro lines, and is called Serdika (Сердика), and is only about 4 minutes journey. With it being the main Metro interchange there will be a bit of a traipse through tunnels to get you to the Line 1 (the red one remember), so try not to get yourself lost. Once on the Line 1 platform look around and see if you see others there with suitcases, if they are on the other platform to you then chances are you are on the wrong one. Keep an eye on the notice board for train arrivals, you want to go to the airport (Летище Софиа) and not out to the Business Park (Бизнес Парк Софиа).

It used to take about 20 minutes to get as far as the old line ended at IEC - Tsarigradsko Shose (ИЕЦ - Цариградско Шосе), but now you have another 4 stops to go. It might be cheaper than a taxi, but if time is important for checking in then maybe its not such a good option. So almost an hour after starting at the main Railway Station you arrive outside Terminal 2 of the airport. I daresay that in time the service might quicken up, but at the moment that is definitely something to take into account when planning journey times. The Metro station isn't even connected to the terminal, so you still have a bit more walking to do, although it is only a couple of hundred metres. Maybe not so bad in the summer, but possibly not so pleasant in the winter, or when it is persisting down.

That is OK for those who want to be at Terminal 2, but what about those who want Terminal 1, the old terminal. Look outside the front of the Terminal building and you will see a marked area for a FREE transfer between terminals. If you see a vehicle there all well and good, if not then you might have to wait half an hour for the next one. So all told it could take you about an hour and a half to get from the main Railway Station to your check-in at Terminal 1. The return journey, or for family coming out the time constraints might not be quite so important, unlike your flight out or their return journey. The Metro runs from 5 in the morning until midnight, and the FREE inter terminal link runs from 7 in the morning until 7 in the evening. The return journey is the reverse of the outward trip, but if you do decide to use the Metro keep in mind that it does get busy during the rush hours. Hopefully this blog might help, or at least it may give a bit more of an insight until more information becomes available.

   

There And Back Again

Yesterday started much the same as many other mornings, only it was early and I was awake. It was still dark outside, and even the birds were sensibly still tucked up inside their nests. We were rudely awakened by the alarms ringing on mobile phones. It was time to get up and make the final checks. As well as trying rouse ourselves with that all important first cup of coffee, we were running through a mental check list to make sure that we hadn't forgotten anything. As we were both making the journey we needed somewhere safe to leave the car, luckily friends 'volunteered' and also kindly took us in to meet the bus in Veliko Tarnovo.

The trip into VT was uneventful, dawn's fingers were slowly making inroads into the night time sky, and as we drove past we were even able to notice how work had progressed on the Funicular railway. Cases were checked onto the bus, and people were generally milling around. In one way it was quite nice, as it was still quite cool, and slowly you could here the birds starting to wake up in the trees and on top of the surrounding buildings. Seeing as how it was the only bus there it was quite a good guess that it was the one that we were meant to get on. So with a fond farewell to our friends we went and found our seats.

Seeing as it is a popular journey we shouldn't have been at all surprised to realise that we were sat across the aisle from another English lady that we knew. So the ladies were happily nattering away as the bus drove towards Sofia. Well they were happy until someone further back asking them to be quiet, I didn't notice anything being said about anyone else talking, or using mobiles. So we must have been on the no talking in English bus, imagine that daft o'clock in the morning and on the naughty step already. We had both brought our kindles with us , but neither of us could really concentrate on reading with the motion of the bus. The bus had left VT at 0615, and there was still a fair amount of traffic on the road. We noticed this, because we got right up close behind a few vans and lorries until the driver swung out from behind them and overtook.

When people talk about Bulgaria to others back in the UK, the stunning scenery is often mentioned. Travelling by coach, rather than driving yourself, does give you the opportunity to enjoy it all. Another good way to also enjoy the countryside is to use the train, which we will endeavour to do at a later date. There is still so much of this country to see, and explore, but if we drove ourselves everywhere we would miss things as we would be too busy concentrating on the roads. I have driven the route quite a few times but not since they have made the changes at a place called Dolni Bogrov. Now the road totally bypasses it, which does tend to make things easier. So at least that is one positive step for the Hemus Highway. One day it will be completely finished, and both ends will meet in the middle.

The trip from VT to the central bus station is almost non-stop. We did have the normal, apparently, stop outside of Troyan to let someone off. There are buses which go via the airport, but they are not really convenient for those flying by Easy Jet, as the times are a bit out. We had taken our own breakfast with us. By which I don't mean I was cooking bacon and eggs in the aisle, and neither was Net throwing milk over cereals as we flew past another 'slow' HGV. We had taken drinks, fruit and biscuits, even I can't make too much of a mess with them. Alright I can, but I just put it down to a natural talent or gift. It's not everyone who gets challenged to two falls, a submission or a knockout whilst trying to open a pack of biscuits.

From what I could see most of Sofia looks to be undergoing major roadworks. Traffic is flying at you from either side, to your front and also behind you. Most of the commercial type drivers seem to have been culled from the ranks of failed Kamikaze pilots. So there are taxi drivers, bus drivers, van drivers, lorry drivers and tram drivers all aiming for that one spot that you are currently occupying. I know that I haven't done city driving for a while, but it all seemed quite manic. In a way it was a relief to get to the Central Bus Station, as at least you could have a quick breather before getting into a taxi and facing phase two of the dodgem car rally, and go from the bus station to the airport.

Hopefully most people will be aware of various, how shall we put it, less than honest taxi drivers who operate at these type venues. Going through the Bus Station we were asked to follow a bloke to a waiting taxi. I don't think so, we went out the front and got one from the taxi rank there. The drivers stay with their vehicles, they don't go inside and tout for trade. Always check that the taxi you opt for has a meter, that is actually running, at the end of the journey you get given a receipt. You should also see a current tariff of fares, and the taxi driver's ID licence. Have a quick look to make sure the bloke driving looks a bit like his picture. Fortunately the OK taxis seem to be OK.

The drive across Sofia was just as manic as the drive in, but we arrived at Terminal 1 in one piece, and in plenty of time to do the baggage check ins. I left the ladies as they were going through the customs type bit as my mission was complete. Now all I had to do was the trip in reverse. So it was another taxi from the airport, doing battle with the traffic and arriving unscathed at the bus station again. I decided to book the tickets not only for my return journey to VT that day, but also for when I have to do it all again and go and meet the ladies at the airport. The girl at the ticket counter even understood my Bulglish as I ended up with the right number of tickets, on the correct dates and at the correct times. I even had enough time to get round the outside of a large slice of pizza and a medium coke. A full fat, high octane coke for me, not one of those semi skimmed fat free cokes.

While waiting at the correct bus stop someone tried flogging me some dodgie perfume, so in my best Bulgarian I just shrugged and carried on eating my rapidly diminishing pizza. Oh joy of joys, even though it was a different coach, it was still the same driver, although this time he seemed to have a co-pilot. The co-pilot seemed to be in charge of the in flight movies. They might have been great but you would have needed binoculars from the back of the bus, probably even from the middle. The air conditioning was almost on, I could here the fan but warm air was trickling out of the vents, which seemed to defeat the object somewhat. Needless to say, as I am here writing this, I arrived back in VT in one piece. Rather tired, warm and sweaty, but in one piece. I even had enough time to book my next ticket up to Sofia. At this rate I will be qualifying for the frequent flyer bonuses.

The animals were pleased to see me, although I'm sure that it had more to do with the idea of me doing their tea. The house was a bit fuggy are having been shut up all day, and I took the chance to get back into just a pair of swim shorts (apologies if you are eating for that mental picture). The only downside to a packed day was that on the way home I picked up a puncture. So that can be attended to when I next go into Gorna. I am wondering if it might be a prudent measure to wear a blindfold when I do the next journey there. Then again in the words of Corporal Jones "Don't Panic", although I'm sure that "They Don't Like It Up'em" could also be utilised driving through Sofia.      

A Great Bulgarian

When people are asked about famous, or great,  Bulgarians, their answers are often quite varied. Certainly many will mention the likes of Vasil Leski or Hristo Botev. There are some who might even mention John Atanasov, Vladimir Dimitrov or even Veselin Topalov. Those more interested in sports might mention Dan Koloff or Hristo Stoichkov. While all of these people have great merit in their own right, there is a quiet unassuming Bulgarian, who restores the idea of human kindness and goodness. A man by the name of Dobri Dimitrov Dobrev, which might not mean much on its own, for he is often known as Diado Dobri (Elder or Grandpa Dobri). Some even refer to him as the Saint of Baylovo.

He has just celebrated his 100th birthday, a wonderful milestone for this remarkable man. He was born in the village of Baylovo, just outside of Sofia, on July 29th 1914. Another famous Bulgarian was also born in this same village, the writer Elin Pelin, who once wrote "It is my native village, it is good but very poor".

Diado Dobri's father died during the First World War and it was left to his mother to raise him and his siblings. As with many of his age he doesn't remember much about his younger years. He married in the early 1940s, and he and his wife had 4 children. Sadly he has outlived 2 of his children. It was during a bombing raid of Sofia that he lost most of his hearing, when he was quite close to where a bomb fell.

In his younger days he would walk between his village and the capital, Sofia. Now that his legs aren't quite as good he relies on public transport. Many of the bus and tram drivers will not ask him for the fare, it seems as though everyone is touched by this man's goodness. He is as much of a landmark of Sofia as some of the old historic buildings. He can often be sighted in the capital holding out his tin cup, never asking for money but always grateful to receive a few coins. None of the money is for him, it all goes to charity and the restoration, and upkeep, of monasteries and churches across Bulgaria. He seems to have turned his back on material things, and lives frugally on his monthly pension.

Despite his age, he is out in all weathers, dressed in his home made clothes and shoes. He is always ready with a smile and a blessing for those who donate. Often the only food that he will eat during the day, is that which a stranger has given to him. He seems to love children, and many would say that the highlight of his day is kissing a child's hand. Unlike in the West he is not moved on by the Police, or terrorised by gangs of teenagers, but he is allowed to do his own thing in his quiet way.

Some might ask how one man can make a difference. Years ago he sold all of his possessions and then gave the money to the church. It has been estimated that so far he has raised in excess of 80,000 Leva (40,000 Euros), and he hasn't kept a single Stotinka for himself. Even today he is cited as being the single largest donor to the Alexandar Nevsky Cathedral in Sofia, when he made a donation of 35,700 Leva (20,000 Euros). He has also made large donations 25,000 Leva to the Elishnishki Monastery near Sofia, and to the village church in Gorno Kamartsi. He hasn't forgotten his parish church in the village of Baylovo either, as they received a 10,000 Leva donation. Orphanages across the country have had such things as their utility bills paid for by this man. Surely his actions, and his kindness, putting others before himself, should be an inspiration to us all. A very humble man, who doesn't do these things for acknowledgement, he is reluctant to talk about himself or his family, he just wants to carry on doing his good works as best he knows how.

Some of the time he lives in Sofia, where he is cared for by his daughter, but he also lives in a single room in a small out building within the grounds of the church of Saints Cyril and Methodus. There are no modern amenities, and even though there is a bed he prefers to sleep on the floor. Even in the winter he rolls his sleeves up and can be seen carrying water from the well. He is also not averse to helping out with the more physical aspects of maintenance and restoration work.

Many have said that actions speak louder than words, and this man personifies that for me. He doesn't worry about the trappings of finery, or the material things, he just helps those he can in the best way that he can. So maybe world, and church, leaders could be well served by taking a leaf out of this man's book. It is time to think of humanity, but act with humility. To take one of his own quotations from the film 'Mite', "The good will is just and true. Everything in it is good. We must not lie, nor steal, nor commit adultery. We must love each other, as God loves us".

Old Man Dobri by Miroslav Yotov