The end of the kick?

A Kick up the Balkans
Postscript

And so the publishable diaries of my time in Bulgaria come to an end. With more of a whimper than a bang, it must be said. Though, as I have noted a couple of times, it is my understatement that often takes my breath away in retrospect. The records continue after this date, but not in a form easy to manage or communicate.

But in case you have missed any highlights so far, my adventures led me to:

• witness the election of the first non-socialist government since the Changes;
• breathe a lot of chlorine;
• get stuck in a snowbound train in the middle of the Balkans;
• sit through risks of explosion (nuclear and otherwise);
• get used to vodka for breakfast;
• lose all sense of direction and hope in a dark, faceless housing complex;
• spend a lot of time in the dark with no hot water or electricity;
• impersonate a French diplomat;
• receive vegetable insults from the Turkish police;
• find a different sense of direction and hope in a different faceless housing complex;
• direct a school play at the 670-seat city Opera House.

That's not a bad list for the first year. There is a very basic Google map that marks a lot of the places involved.

Following the petering out of normal service in the diary department, I would go on to visit my colleague in Varna, spend a month recuperating in the UK, and then return to Bulgaria for a year in Veliko Turnovo. In this wonderful university town, I would lose one love but find another; finally get around to visiting Romania; have glandular fever misdiagnosed as syphilis; and ... but let's leave those stories for another day.

Update: The full story of Year 1 is no longer available on this blog, but can be obtained as an ebook on Amazon or Lulu.