Bulgaria Boarding

Bansko 2013

2013-11-09T13:28:00.001-08:00

I work for RNIB. I present and produce a show called 'Talking Books' on the charity's radio station called Insight Radio that can be found at www.insightradio.co.uk. Every year there's a thing called 'Read for RNIB Day' that includes various ways of raising funds for the flagship Talking Books service, one of which is a thing a thing called 'extreme reading'.

For no reason other than I was there and I could and it seemed like it'd be a laugh, I decided to try to narrate a book whilst snowboarding - the results are in the video below ...

Borovets 2012

2012-02-23T02:26:00.000-08:00

Video is all done. Watch on YouTube in 1080p or 780p if you can ... much better ... drunken notes will be here asap

Bansko 2011

2011-03-31T05:50:00.000-07:00

Bansko - Breathe. Watch it on YouTube in HD 1080p as it's much better like that ... anyway, presenting The Return of Kaminitsa Stu in Bansko 2011.

Saturday – Pre departure flicks.

We're in Asda.

Somewhere, someone in a meeting a few years back, some money grabbing arse decided that they should make in-flight meals an added paid-for extra rather than something that is included in the cost of your flight. And someone else decided that for this mini-dish of Russian roulette, you should pay around £20. Well fuck that. Right now we're buying hand-luggage safe deodorant, tiny bottles of shower gel and armfuls of sausage rolls and other handy snacks, all of which, when we go home and secrete them into our hand luggage, will slowly be squashed to death over the next 24 hours.

I also urge Stu to buy a pad and pen as he'll need to write this year's report to make up for last year's absence.

Stu: No way! Not again.

I buy them for him anyway.

Back home and Stu gets his insurance online as we settle in to watch Avalanche: Nature Unleashed . A film without merit of any sort other than the fact that it was filmed in Borovets. “Ohh, look at the old gondola”, “Wow remember flying down that run?”, “I still have a bruise from that”, and eventually, “This is really shit.” We switch it off and watch Borat instead.

Sunday – Planes, buses and free beer.

A bit of a lie in this morning, as we're just nipping across to Edinburgh for an afternoon flight. The plane has just come up from Newcastle, and it's so hot when we get on the pilot actually apologies. Stu needs beer. Thing is, he doesn't get it. I was asleep by now but it was something about them not taking Scottish notes (we just took off from Edinburgh!) on the plane. Just water and really flat sausage rolls then.

There's a tip, they don't really take Scottish notes anywhere in Bulgaria (or in many places in England for that matter, especially the increasingly rare pound note) so if you are taking cash, take clean, umarked English notes. To be honest, we use the ATM machines dotted all over and have never had a problem. Whatever the amount you withdraw, from 10lev to hundreds, most banks charge the same commission, so best to take out larger amounts and use the bank machine once or twice over the week, than to use it every day.

Steam pours out into the Sofia night as the doors of this flying oven eventually open and through both luck and desperation we're first through Bulgarian passport control. This mad dash was all for nothing though as the luggage carousel, which has had one heavy bag to many today, creaks, cracks and dies. Stu has a horror-show visit to the toilets in the airport ... Stu: Just don't! … as the men in orange vests look bewildered and nervous whilst pushing buttons on, poking sticks in, and shouting at, the broken carousel. More flights are coming in and just as the panic really starts to set in there's a large buzz and the thing reluctantly trundles into life, spitting out bags, skis, snowboards and smoke.

Big Rab and his entourage who we've been chatting to online are on the same flight, and as we all troop out together we fleetingly meet Steve C who runs http://www.earlybirdtransfers.co.uk/ with his wife Wendy and who, more importantly, has brought beer! This is most welcome, but it delays us a bit, so after working out what coach we're supposed to be on, and whose name the holiday is booked under, we're last on-board.

This means we're sitting apart and the trip to the halfway point of the transfer is a subdued affair. The stopping off point is the same one we used last year, both going to and from the airport. It's half cafe, half little shop with very limited toilet facilities, so if there's any inkling of anything needed sorted in that area, get there first as a queue always develops fast. It's in a sleepy little town, but this place must do a roaring trade as a few coaches were pulling away as we arrived and more arrived as we left.

Stu's feeling a bit under the weather with the heat so stays put on the coach as I go off to smoke, chat to Rab, blag another free beer and buy some mixers for the bottle we bought at the airport. As we set off again, I'm decanting vodka into half drunk bottles of diet coke, much to the amusement of those sat around us. The drink perks Stu right up though and before you know it, we're in a happy mood, cruising past the Mura, the hotel Stu and I stayed in in 2007.

I stayed in the Strazhite last year though, and had been trying to tell Stu where it was in relation to the Mura, but now he could see for himself. His jaw dropped a bit as he realised how much more central it was, right next to the Lion, a five minute walk to the gondola and I have to mention it again, with the best crepe stall in Bulgaria just across the road. We carry boards, boot, bags and our free welcome meal (the now ubiquitous bag of weird) to our room. It has a Mini-bar, LCD TV, balcony overlooking the courtyard, all the usual trappings, and is lovely until we scatter our stuff all over it and hit the town.

Rab had said everyone was heading to the Friendly Bar and so that's where we end up, meeting so many people old and new. I think the most surreal meeting was with Daniel, who although I'd been chatting to him on and off for years online I'd only ever met him once in the flesh, as that was for a few seconds in Pamporovo, way back in 2004.

It's a long night and we finally leave around 3, heading back via the crepe stall. We're out of the bar earlier than some though as a few Facebook pictures that appear the next morning would suggest. Remember you came home from holiday and took your film to be developed? These days the pictures are online before the drool from the corner of your mouth has had time to dry on the pillow. Technology isn't always a good thing.

I hope you're writing all this stuff down Stu as we'll never remember it.

Stu: Fuck right off. Really.

Monday – Lego Horses and Pub Evil.

Four and a half hours later and we're in the Happy End, white as sheets, shivering and collecting our lift passes. It's lucky we had enough sense not to wander up here in our pyjamas. We pay the 5lev deposit and get our lift passes and that's it as far as our relationship with the reps goes this week. Lou (see 2007 and 2010) isn't there this year and as there's a ton of stuff happening with the skidvd and bulgariaski crowd we don't sign up for anything. Next time we see a Balkan uniform is when we get picked up at the end of the week.

Stu buys sunglasses on the walk back to the hotel as the sun really is splitting the skies, and our heads, and we head straight through to the Strazhite dining room for some much needed stodge. It's the usual selection of cereals and meats, and a first for Stu, square meatballs. Or shouldn't that be meatsquares? Meatcubes?

Belly's full of bits of what we eventually conclude must be Lego horses we get the free bus to the gondola and make use of the service centre, getting a wax and sharpen for less than two pints in the UK. We get a gondola pod to ourselves and have a nice relaxing trip up the hill. I mention to Stu that I haven't seen him write anything down yet.

Stu: No way, I swore I wasn't doing it again. They used to be travel guides and nice reports but they're become more and more insane each year. There was a clown peeling a banana in one! And a man in a Shrek costume. And a horse getting shot. And a man skiing in a thong.

That was all in the same year, 2008, the year you're convinced we got drugged on the first night. It was a bit mental that year though.

Stu: I'm sure we were in a coma, with some Bulgarian kids channel playing on the TV.

Look, just write something travel guidey …

Stu: (Taking out a pad and pen, and looking at me with hatred as he starts to write) March is a good time to come to Bansko for a winter holiday when it comes to queues and space on the piste as it's a quieter time. No half term holidays and no major festivals like Christmas, New Year or big holidays in neighbouring countries like Greece or Macedonia. The downside to this time of year though is that you tend to get 'Freeze/Thaw' conditions. It can be icy in the morning then nice and soft towards lunch time and beyond, sometimes becoming slushier in the late afternoon. It then inevitably freezes again when the sun dips below the horizon.

See there you go!

We think the conditions are quite good especially compared to past years seasons, both in Bansko and Borovets, when its been seriously touch and go. Steve C says its the worst season in Bansko for a long time but considering Stu's last time here was that snowless 2007, he's very happy with it.

Off the gondola and and onto the six man chair we go for a run down blue six. I belt away and meet Stu again on my second lap. He's looking a bit red in the face.

Stu: This is my first run in two years and does not go very well. My confidence takes a battering that I never really seem to recover from. Memories of Yasterbets 3 and Popangelov seem like a lifetime ago. I'm about 4 stone heavier and I get punished for it with horrid fitness levels.

We slowly get to the pubs at Shiligarnika and meet a whole pile of people from the forums. We spend much longer that we should drinking and chatting but the sun is out and the beer is cold, but after a wee while I realise Stu's red face wasn't just that he was puffed out, he was beginning to fry.

We get going again, after strapping each other into our boards (a fine line between a confidence building beer and too much!) and again I meet Stu on my second circuit. He's had a bit of a bump so I stick with him for a bit, bundling him into a gondola pod to take him home.

Stu: I find a good first day is essential to the success of your skiing or boarding week and its probably my fault it didn't go brilliantly. I should have taken my own advice and instead of getting banjaxed at Shiligarnika, could have hit more runs instead and ironed out my heel problems. Luckily though TK spots instantly what I'm doing wrong and offers up some advice, later reiterated by Steve C . This turns out to be a great help and bad habits become less and less over the week.

I hare it down the ski road which is brilliant until the last few kilometres where it becomes very slushy. Steve C skis past and very kindly offers me a pole to grab just as I was about to get off and walk and gives me enough momentum to get to the bottom, but only just.

I miss Stu at the bottom. Apparently he'd fallen asleep on the gondola and was awoken to some concerned looks and a light shake from some Ulen staff just before he headed back up the hill.

After a quick crash at the hotel, we're out at the Irish Bar meeting, Daniel, Lou, Canski, Tanny, Marky J, Will, Steve C, Wendy and loads of other people who had arranged to be out in Bansko this week. It's Lou's birthday so we head off to a lovely Mehana in the old town for a lovely slap up meal of meat and fire.

Woooof

We are all getting to know each other and having a laugh, then Donald Duck walks in talking like Papa Lazlo from the league of Gentlemen. He has our photo taken with many of us and in an impressive demo of his colour printer and ink supplies, he's back only a short time later to try and sell them to us.

Next stop is down some lethal stairs to a Karaoke Bar, called Pub Evil. Really … I took a photo.

We almost have the place to ourselves and the mic is dominated by blue Skidvd t-shirts. I belt out Achy Breaky Heart for old times sake and then spying some AC/DC on the list I give Thunderstruck a vocal battering. People are drunk so they clap anyway. We're quite close to the hotel, but even closer to the crepe stall, so end up in the room, eating a ham and cheese delight with a belly full of beer and watching women exploring each other on the telly.

Tuesday – Some filming with the pole and a lobster on holiday.

I'm up and away after gathering up my new Kodak playsport camera, fisheye lens and the monopod that arrived from Hong Kong two days before we left. The monopod isn't brilliant and the weight of the camera keeps spinning it round so I have to seal each join with duct tape, meaning that I can't retract the bloody thing. This in turn means I have a big metal pole sticking out of my backpack that quite frankly could have been lethal, but fortunately I get away with. I've since bought a much larger and much better one and we'll see what results I get with that in Borovets 2012.

I've also got a little MD80 camera that I tape to my board that produces some startling shots from very unusual angles … most of which I like but I end up only using a few seconds from it in the 'Bansko: Breathe' video above.

The finished shots are weird, as someone commented it's like a golfer was dragging me around, but I love the finished results and spent a happy morning filming from the very top down to the pubs at Shili and having a beer as I reviewed the footage.

Stu: It's taking me quite a while to wake up. I finally have a good stretch and head out to a cloudy and cold day, quite a contrast to yesterday. It's actually so late when I head out I'm kind of paranoid as to when the gondola shuts so I decided to spend the day getting my confidence back up, a run on the blue 6 circuit then a few runs on the empty greens at the bottom. I took a huge knock yesterday so I feel I need to find my legs again. Bump into TK who has been filming and after a bite to eat overlooking the slopes we spend the rest of the day playing around for the camera on the easy greens.

I tried filming Stu on the poma but after getting off at the top I bang the monopod with my board as I'm strapping in and the fisheye lens goes flying. The playsport is a brilliant little camera, second only to a Go-Pro HD or Hero2 for filming this sort of stuff, and at a third of the price. (Around £100 when I bought it. As there's a newer version out now, the Zx5, you'll get my one, the Zx3 for a lot less on ebay) It's completely shockproof and waterproof, in fact you can film underwater with it to a fair depth, and it's shaped like a mobile phone. The trouble is that the fisheye lens for it is attached simply by a magnetic ring, so it can steam up in your pocket or with a wee knock can fly off and travel a fair distance. I retrieve it, but by the time I get going Stu has almost finished his last run of the day.

I race Stu down to the town with him on the gondola and me on the ski road but as there's no Steve C today I really do have to get off my board and walk for a bit ... stopping for a wee rest in the 'Caves' bar.

There is a pub quiz tonight at the Irish Bar and we do very well, but end up coming second and not winning the 140lev prize. The captain of the winning team goes to collect the cash and we discover he's the boyfriend of the girl reading out the questions (we're saying nothing). People get wayyy too drunk in there and we head out, wandering back to the hotel via The Lion. There are chants of 'Let's go fucking mental, let's go fucking mental' coming from inside. We don't go in.

Wednesday – Stock cars, suncream and Don't Stop Beleiving

We make breakfast! Both of us! This is the second time for Stu … the first being one day in 2005. We continue on this unexpected roll by getting the free bus up to the gondola and then walking onto a pod that we get to ourselves.

We've both seen YouTube videos of this place at busy times with things like 2 or 3 hour queues and heard about people who have given up and walked up to Chalin Valog (the Bansko gondola mid-station) to get a pod, and actually save some time. We've always managed to avoid the peak and although we've seen some queues at the weekends, we've never really been troubled by lack of uplift, a major bugbear of many of Bulgaria's detractors. Maybe we've been lucky all these years.

Anyway, we're alone until Chalin Valog when we're joined by an older couple, with a guy who is a huge stock-car fan. Once we've exhausted our very limited knowledge of the Scottish stock-car scene, in around 7 seconds, he gets to moaning about the amount of people who belt down the ski road at a rate of knots, saying it's a green run and they shouldn't be on it. I have to disagree saying that the only alternative to get back into Bansko town is the gondola, and most skiers and boarders who are any good will always prefer to slide home rather than sit in a pod. Before our chat comes to blows we're at the top station and go our separate ways, but will just say that if you want to stick to greens there are plenty up there that don't double up as exit routes for the mountain … and any part of skiing or boarding means making way for people better than you and looking out for people who aren't.

Stu gives a big apple vodka flavoured burp as we get off and split up. I do top to bottom, he does the Blue 6 run a few times, until we both meet up and head for Shili. Everyone is there already, including Koolski and his wife (Gerry and Sandra of http://www.koolski.com) over from Borovets for the day, and I quickly film them all for the video above. Tanny dishes out more beers to everyone (Thankyou Tanja Vertriest) and I sit back looking at the red run towering over us.

In fact, I decide, why am I looking at it when I could be riding it. I leave my stuff with Stu, show him how to work the camera, head up the T-Bar, and promptly fall off the bugger.

Stu: hahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha

It wasn't a sore one, but I somehow managed to slip down a six foot wall of snow at the side of it and take a good twenty minutes getting my board off and climbing back out. It was one of those really slow motion things where you see a big drop to the side and say to yourself, 'Christ, I hope I don't fall into that'. Then it immediately becomes a big magnet, dragging you towards it. No amount of hell edge was getting me out of this, and it's just lucky I managed to get the T-Bar as far away from my crotch as possible before I fell and it ripped anything off.

At long last I get sorted, get back down and properly on the T-Bar this time. I'm sweating buckets as I pass the same point again, but so far across the slope in the other direction that the whole T-Bar is bending. Who invented these things? A bastard, that's who. T-Bars can fuck off.

Anyway, get strapped in and I hear later that Steve C said 'six turns an no more' … I think he was bang-on. Stu films it like a pro, and the end appears above but thankfully (or unfortunately) he didn't manage to capture the accidental trip down the side.

Stu's face is even redder now, and not just from laughing himself silly. We need to get this boy some suncream.

We have a few more runs and then, at the bottom, go shopping. We're shocked by the prices of sun stuff. A small bottle of Factor 25 for the price of a night-out. We head to our left (facing down the hill) at the crossroads just before the Happy End pub and eventually find a supermarket with sun stuff that we can just about afford. There's a tip, bring it with you. Lip balm, suncream and aftersun, especially if you're going out later in the season. The sun may not feel that hot, but any light it's producing is effectively doubled by the white reflective snow. Better to have it and not need it than to sell a child just to get some.

Anyway, we head back for food and a kip, then off out to the Irish Bar, where we meet Marky J, Dave Canski and others. They've not had the food and kip so there's, eh, a gap in our levels of sobriety. They all head off to Bar Evil again and we wander up to the new (to us) Amigos. It's just not the same (see 2007) but the band is good. It's pointed out to me that a lot of Bulgarian cover bands don't actually know the words, but they know the sounds that sound like the words, if you know what I mean. These guys are a perfect example.

Don't get me wrong though, they were great. They worked hard creating a great atmosphere in the place which improved immeasurably by a punter taking to the mic with his daughter who was just above toddler age to belt out 'Don't Stop Believing'. In fact, they brought the house down.

Quick crepe and then bed with a belly full of beer, watching women explore each other on the telly.

Thursday - St Patrick raises his head, we keep ours down.

Morning world! Jesus, those people over there should use those curtains! Really. The downside of a big courtyard overlooking the rooms opposite. Still, if they had been 30 years younger it would have been a major upside.

For some reason (I'm saying nothing), Stu decides he's having a day off, so I'm off and away on my lonesome. The slopes are really quiet today so have a few good runs with some pistes to myself for a bit. Some slow tunes on the mp3 player and a really nice time on the hill.

Stu: I chill out and watch Mythbusters and The Hawk on TV. I don't learn anything about snowboarding but I learned the ins and outs of the Archimedes' principle.

It's St. Patrick's Night so later we head to the Irish Bar, but there's a bit of a weird atmosphere, and leave before there's a riot. The Lion isn't much better, so we have a few games of pool in the hotel's bowling alley (yes I found it this year, helped by the enormous flashing neon sign out side that said 'BOWLING') and then head back to the room for a crepe and lots of drink on the balcony, talking about times past and other rubbish. Stu feels bad about not making it onto the hill today, but then again most of the people we know who are out this week ( I later find out) didn't make it up today either.

Head to bed with a belly full of beer watching women explore each other on the telly.

Friday - Awsome dog and bad kebab.

I'm up and away doing the top to bottom run to Shiligarnika a couple of times. It's a bit colder today and the sides of the piste still shaded by trees are a bit icy so I stick to the middle and take it easy. I meet Stu for lunch at the Shili pubs and as we're tucking in more people we know from the forums start to arrive. A very chilled afternoon during which I leave all my stuff and go off for a few quick runs.

When I return it's just Stu and a few stragglers so we strap in and head for the gondola. Stu catches his heel edge and batters down on his coccyx, then a few moments later does the toeside and goes down on his knees. He actually has to blow snow from his nose. When we get to the bottom he swears, gives the run the fingers and jumps on a pod as I head off down the ski road.

After a chill-out in the hotel dozing in front of the telly we get scrubbed up to go out for dinner. It's a classy one tonight as we've realised we haven't had a proper Bulgarian road side kebab yet. They are delicious with lumps of chicken, garlic sauce, a smattering of veg and if you ask for chips with it, they wrap them up in the bread too, mixed in with your meat. Sounds a bit weird, tastes incredible, so we can't wait.

We find a place on the road up to the gondola and fortunately the guy doesn't understand Stu when he asks to see the wine list. I order up and I'm actually making cooing noises as it's being assembled.

Thing is though, it was terrible. Really, really bad, and this is a first for us in Bulgaria. So disappointed but someone around here is wise to this, and knew exactly what was going to happen next. An awesome wee dog has been following us ever since we bought them, cocksure in the knowledge that we'll be throwing them away or barfing, or both, pretty soon. He really is a cutie, so I sit by a closed ski hire place and feed it to him bit by bit, thinking we're getting on like a house on fire … until it's finished as he's of like a shot to find Stu.

By the way, if you fancy one of these, the only place I can heartily recommend is in Borovets, just outside the Buzz Bar. You usually have to queue for a few moments, but that only points out the fact that the place is popular and the food is always going to be freshly cooked. (At the time of writing this I have about a week to go until I'm back in Borovets and my mouth is watering!)

Back in Bansko and we try the Happy End which is dead, then a quick pint or two in Amigos and then across the road to Friendly's. Steve C and Canski are there, as is Tanny who is a bit sad as this is her last night. We say goodbye to her and hello to many others as a lot of people we know turn up. It's a long night, during which at one point we're sure we see Robert Downey Jnr. We're really convinced it's him, the likeness was startling, until he starts singing as all illusions of partying with Iron Man are ruined.

As I said, it was a long night, and at some point we ended up in a Casino with Canski. Well, small, faux-classy arcade gallery really but it had a big automated roulette wheel. I bung in a 10 lev note and I'm delighted that almost immediately I get it up to around 70. I may be drunk, but I'm not stupid. I quickly cash-out and announce my retirement from games of chance for the evening. Actually, I thought that cashing out may have caused a problem as the guys working here, now that I look at them, are all 6 foot square and sour faced, but they aren't stupid either … they are delighted to give me my cash, knowing that 9 times out of 10 a winning punter will return to give it all back, and then some. I haven't. At least, not yet.

We find somewhere still open, have a few more regretful beers, then head home stopping only to pay our dues to the crepe god. I know Stu is really drunk by now, as he orders a crepe with frankfurters. I'm still not sure how that worked.

Saturday – Rain and a chips and cheese revelation.

Dark and cloudy outside as I'm woken up by rain falling against the window. The TV in the Strazhite, like most of the hotels in the resort, has a channel that streams the conditions on the mountain, switching from camera to camera. (Why they don't stream this online I don't know … wouldn't be that expensive and I'm sure it would get thousands of hits) Anyway, as I hoped the rain in town was falling as snow on the mountain, so before you could say 'powder' I was off.

I'm a wee bit wobbly after last night, so don't do anything silly, but do end up getting Blue 6 to myself for a bit (as seen in the video 'Sublime Moments' on the introduction page of this blog). Some tunes, some nice snow and some long slow turns on my board, it's a great morning.

Stu joins me in the afternoon and we continue to take it easy, especially since he's got some lovely bruises from yesterday. Further down the hill the snow is more sleet, making everything a bit slushy by the gondola. I give the ski road a miss and get a pod off the hill for the last time this year.

We find everyone in the Mish-Mash where Stu and I order chips and cheese on a recommendation. Holy God they're good. Fresh chips and local cheese which Stu declares is the best he's ever tasted, and I have to agree.

Later we head to Amigo's where Stu declares he doesn't want to go home and again I have to agree, but unfortunately a few hours later, at 5 something in the morning, we're settling into our coach seats for the long drive back to Sofia. It's a long, brutal day, with the flight stopping off and waiting for an hour or so before eventually dropping us in Edinburgh.

Home once again.

I'll end this sermon with a few words from father Stu ...

Stu: I really didn't want to leave. Its safe to say, our visit in 2007 was not great, to the point in fact that if it had been my first trip to Bulgaria I would have never returned.

The place, in my opinion, has chilled a lot. Not that Bansko needs to alter to suit my needs but I found the locals much more relaxed and welcoming, creating a better atmosphere … no-one shouting or swearing at us demanding tips and such this year. I would have no reservations about going back or recommending the resort to others. Bansko is fantastic, cheap beer and food, some great bars with live music every night (Not the Happy End) and the locals and ex-pats (I hate that expression) that stay there make everything that much sweeter, people such as SteveC and Wendy go that extra mile to meet you and offer as much help as they can and always have great stories to tell and advice to give. Its that personal touch that makes Bulgaria the only country I want to ride in.

By the time you read this my seventh trip to the country is already booked and I've noticed that when anyone mentions the word 'holiday', I dont think about the beach and the sun, I think about snow, up to my knees, sugar soft, falling a lot and perfect turns, crowded slopes or on it alone, there truly is no other feeling like that few linked turns that you don't need to think about, you enjoy the snow under your feet, the temperature, the space, its you and the mountain, nothing else exists. If that seems a little sentimental then I apologise, but the mountains always call us back, Beginner or expert, we can all enjoy it and learn from each other.

Here, here. And Stu, thank you so much for writing stuff down!

See you on the slopes.

NOTES

Avalanche: Nature Unleashed is here http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0363448/ It stinks.

For those who asked, the Bansko - Breathe video was filmed on a Kodak Playsport and on a little MD80 mounted to the board which you can see in shot as I get off the chairlift.

I also had a cheap handheld mono-pod and fish eye lens, both bought on ebay from China, so the whole set up probably cost less than £120. Not bad for a set up that can record in 1080p at 30fps or (and this was the setting I used most) 720p at 60fps.

It was edited on Avid's Pinnacle software with the help of some cigarettes and vodka.

I've bought a much longer mono-pod for 2012, we'll see what happens.

Bansko 2010

2011-03-05T18:54:00.000-08:00

And back once again to Bansko, and although the snow was a hundred times better this year than in 2007, I was a bit apprehensive as I was heading out on my lonesome for the first time since Pamporovo in 2004. Tim and Stu simply couldn't afford the money and/or time and Bob and Caroline had the pressing matter of a brand new member of the family to deal with.

I did toy with the idea of staying in Scotland, getting an all-centre five day pass, and travelling around my own country snowboarding in a different centre every day for a week. After all, even though I was fairly familiar with Glencoe and the Nevis Range, it was years since I'd been to Glenshee or the Cairngorms and I'd never actually been to the Lecht.

Then I priced it.

Let's just say that a week in Bansko was a bargain compared to a 5 day pass, Bed and Breakfast every night, petrol and evening meals in Scotland ... and remember, I'd be able to have a drink whilst in Bansko, instead of driving for half the week, and would have a whole extra day on the hill ... and would be in a foreign country instead of a hundred miles up the road, in the rain.

And I really wouldn't be on my own at all. A lot of the people from the website skidvd.co.uk would be in the resort too, a fact that was brought home to me when someone shouted my name in the baggage reclaim area of Sofia airport!

Saturday - Mmm Cigarettes

Let's rewind a minute first though. As Stu and Tim had taken ages to give me a definite 'no' to coming out with me, a few flight options had filled up and become unavailable. All that I was left with, on the date I wanted, was either a departure from either London or East Midlands. I looked at a map and East Midlands Airport looked to be just another half hour down the road from our usual departure point of Manchester. As it turns out, it wasn't, not by a long way, but the choice was made and the holiday booked.

I was with Balkan Holidays again, flying to Sofia and staying at the Strazhite Hotel in the centre of Bansko for a week, and my newly healthy and fit self was really looking forward to it. You see, I'd managed, after a few gos, to quit cigarettes, and was a regular user of the new electronic variety. All the nicotine and none of the bad stuff, and it still feels like smoking. But the journey to the airport was so so long ... so long in fact that five e-cig batteries I had brought with me had all ran out of juice long before I got there.

By the time I finally got there, got parked, got the free bus, got my board checked in and made my way through customs, I was screaming for a cigarette. But I'd done that as quickly as I could deliberately. I wouldn't now be in a position to smoke until Bulgaria, and if I made it to my hotel I could charge up the batteries and have nicotine again, without any of the bad stuff. Once through customs, that's it, no smoking ... except at East Midlands Airport. With two hours to kill in departures, I bought a paper, sat down and noticed a huge 'Smoking Area' sign. Two minutes later I had some Marlboro, a new lighter, and was in guilty, guilty heaven.

Despite being a mean temptress, East Midland's Airport is a friendly place. In fact, I bet that very morning all the staff had received an email saying, 'tell people this is a friendly place'. I heard it from customs people, check in staff and even the guy clearing the tables at Burger King. It's okay to be honest, but it's just an airport. I wouldn't move in or anything.

The flight was fine, and as I said I wasn't really going out alone, as lots of people from the Skidvd website were heading out around the same time. I was trying to remember the names of everyone who was coming when 'Suntec' Steve shouted my name as I grabbed my board from the carousel. We had a quick chat and catch up with both Steve and his mate Michael then boarded our coaches for Bansko. He was staying in the Kempinski Grand Arena Hotel, aka the big posh one by the gondola, so got to ride in a much better bus.

Kempinski Hotel Grand Arena

Not that the Strazhite, where I had ended up this year, was in any way bad. It's in a very central location, just at the crossroads where you can head down along the 'river' or down to the old town... and the Lion Pub (and an AMAZING crepe stall) are just across the road.

Hotel Strazhite

The only tiny blip I had was that on arrival to my room I discovered I had no balcony and the room had an adjoining door to the next room. Really handy if you're in a big group, really noisy and annoying if you're not. Reception got me swapped no problem and my new room, with balcony this time, overlooked the courtyard out back.

Strazhite Courtyard

The rooms are a decent size with new LCD TV's and all the usual mod cons, including in this case, a mini-bar. OK, in reality it was a wee fridge with a price list sellotaped to it, but upon realising there was loads of room inside for my own stuff I headed out for supplies. I found a shop still open within minutes of leaving the hotel as it was just over the crossroads (I've a funny feeling it was open 24 hours, but can't be sure) and stocked up on big bottles of Kaminitsa and an array of snacks. I'd remembered to bring a small kettle with coffee, sugar and powdered milk, but nothing to drink it from, so I also found a gift shop selling mugs.

The welcome meal, as we arrived late, was again 'a bag of weird'. It consisted of a few bits of fruit and a polystyrene container with some weird chicken dish in a red sauce. Of course the containers weren't sealed so most people got a poly bag with a few bits of fruit and a bit of chicken, all floating together in a red puddle at the bottom. I binned it, pulled open a Ginster's Cheese and Ham thing I'd bought at the airport, poured a glass of Kaminitsa and discovered I had HBO on the TV and they were showing the latest Indiana Jones. And so, for the first time, I spent my first night in a Bulgarian ski resort, in my room, watching telly ... I even got to bed at a decent time too. Christ I'm getting old.

HINDSIGHT BIT: I was just hunting online for those pics above (as I didn't take a decent one of the actual hotel myself) and during the Google image search saw pictures of a pool and a bowling alley. I stayed there for a week and didn't notice. Is my eyesight going too? Why wasn't there a sign? So Strazhite Hotel, it's got a swimming pool and a bowling alley ... apparently.

Sunday - The Only Queue of the Week.

Up, showered, in gear, and at the Happy End for the welcome meeting. I could recite most of this stuff, but I need to be there to get my lift pass and pay my 5lev for the privilege. I don't know if any other tour operator does this, but we have to pay a 5lev deposit on our passes that they promise we'll get back at the end of the week. I've never bothered to chase this up as I'd rather have the pass as a souvenir, but they must make a fair few lev from this sideline. I was also both chuffed and impressed that Lou, our rep from three years ago, remembered me and gave me a nod. OK, the season isn't that long and I've got a fairly distinctive hair length, but still impressive.

Lou the Balkan Rep (pictured in 2007)

Now, I'm all for following and respecting the traditions of the country I am visiting. I'm of the school of thought that you should always learn to say thank you, excuse me, yes, no and a few other handy phrases (like, 'no just leave the bottle') in the native language of the county you are in ... and in that spirit I was sporting my Martinitsa. If you've ever been to Bulgaria in the run up to March the 1st you'll be familiar with these, little adornments made of white and red yarn that can be worn on your person, usually around the wrist. I've got a few of these from previous visits and as this trip was in mid March I decided to wear one. A nice gesture I thought, a mark of respect for the country's history and traditions ... a gesture that had once got me a hug and a beer from Tommy in Franco's (in Borovets), so I'd travelled out wearing it.

As I approached the busy gondola station though, I'd forgotten all about it. The queue was down to the bottom of the stairs, and about ten people across, but was moving fairly rapidly. As I got closer, and as I was on my own, I got ushered past a big group wanting a pod to themselves, and got squeezed in next to five other people ... two girls and three guys. My board was rammed into the holder next to some skis, I was in, and the door was closed. Initially there was a feeling, as there usually is, of being in a lift with strangers, but the trip is of such a duration that before long all my pod-mates were laughing and joking with each other in Bulgarian, and kind of looking at me when I didn't join in. I think one of the guys may have directed some comment towards me and I started to worry. Shit, do they think I'm Bulgarian, and I'm being a really ignorant bastard to them? Faces were hardened towards me.

The pod pulled into the mid station above the Chalin Valog runs, I decided to act. Looking at the piste map I'd been given with my lift pass, I addressed no-one in particular and said, "Excuse me, is this Chalin Valog?" I knew full well that it was, but one girl, taking the initiative and maybe showing off to her pals a bit, said in perfect English, "Yes it is, is that where you wanted to go?". "No, I want to go up the hill, but I'm meeting someone here later, thank you."

View from a pod

The guys in the pod mumbled to themselves, motioned to me and one pointed to his wrist. I looked at my own wrist and for the first time in days, realised I had my Martinitsa on. Because of that bit of wool, they actually had taken me for a local, an ignorant as fuck local to be exact ... but now I was identified as a rube, they were all smiles and started showing me the best places to head for.

On arrival at the top station I took their advice and got to the very top of the hill as fast as I could. This is via two chairlifts and I'd done this trip before three years ago, only to find it an icy, lumpy, patchy mess. This time the piste was lovely and wasted no time in getting my board on and down the hill. The run at the very top (11 on the piste map) is nice and wide, although it's maybe a tiny bit too steep to be a blue run. I found it a bit hairy for run one on day one, but it soon leveled out and I had a brilliant, relaxed run from 11 to 10, then shat a brick when I hit, at speed, red 12.

Run One, Day One

Check this piste map out for reference, http://www.skibansko.org.uk/pistemap.html, as the one above is a bit small to keep track. I'm in two minds about the numbering system as opposed to naming them all, but I suppose roman numerals are, these days, universal, whereas things like Yastabrets and Stinky-yank-off take a bit of getting used to.

Anyway, I'm screaming down red 12 as I thought that by staying to the right of the resort I could do a blue cruise to the bars at the bottom of Shiligarnika. I actually should have cut underneath the chairlift half way down and continued on run 10 instead of it suddenly getting all steep and shouting 'fuuuuuuuuuck!' all the way down.

I ended up, panting and wild-eyed, at the bottom of a chairlift so headed back up to do it all again. This time round I got it right, stayed on blues, and ended up at the Shiligarnika bars and ran into a pile of people from skidvd, and that really called for a drink. And food. Phil and Lisa (who run skidvd) went off to buy kebabs but thrifty old me brought out another Ginsters cheese and ham thing I'd bought at the airport yesterday. I hadn't paid extra for the in-flight meal and had bought a pile to eat on the way over as they were on sale for a quid each. Of course I'd fallen asleep and didn't touch any of them, but wasn't going to let them go to waste!

More of the same in the afternoon, then I took the long slow slide down the ski road. Brilliant until the last kilometer where it becomes flat and there's a fight to maintain any speed you may still have. Made it without having to take the board off and hike, but only just.

The Ski Road gets a bit flat!

Back to the hotel and leave my board in the lovely big ski area (where they could have easily put up a big sign saying swimming pool and bowling alley this way!) and onto my room, where, clambering out of my gear, I suddenly remember that this morning I'd signed up for tonight's bar crawl. I think it was a combination of the fact that Lou remembered me and force of habit that made me do it, so after the quickest of naps and a quick bite in the hotel, I'm in my glad rags waiting for the bus. I think I've mentioned it here before, but this demonstrates the size of Bansko as compared to the other resorts. In Borovets and Pamporovo you do the bar crawl on foot, in Bansko you need a coach.

It was late but I was having a pleasant chat with to two other crawlers in the lobby of the hotel ... another reason I'd signed up. I'd made pals on every one of these that I'd been on and tonight was no different, although it was all spookily familiar. Lou turned up in the coach and took us to the Happy End, where we once again hammered nails into blocks of wood, arm wrestled and all the other things detailed in the 2007 report! It was almost pub for pub and word for word. But, and I mean this with great respect, it was just as funny as it was the first time around. One of the bars was different though, and in it I had another blast from the past. Vicki!

Vicki was last seen on these pages in 2006, the day after she'd been fired by Balkan, and the year before as the barmaid in the Happy Duck. But there she was, large as life, handing out free shots to everyone who came in, in a small out of the way bar in Bansko. I have no memory of the name of the place, and would only have half a chance of finding it again (it may have been slightly down the road from the Hotel Bansko, but everything was a bit hazy by now) but the shock of seeing her again makes it stick in the mind. We caught up, well as much as we could as she was a bit busy and a bit drunk, and she invited me to share a few shots with her.

I have no idea what was in them but they laid me low and as we got to the next pub, the Lion, I realised that my hotel was right across the road ... so, via the crepe stall, I ducked out and headed to bed.

Monday - Jesus MY HEAD!

Seriously, it was pounding. What were those shots?! I got into my gear, skipped breakfast and walked up the hill to the gondola. Best hangover cure is to scream down a big steep hill, so I followed yesterday's example and made my way to the very top as quickly as I could ... but as I skidded to a stop at Shiligarnika after a long and shaky run I was still throbbing at the temples. Also, the sun was splitting the sky, and although I had goggles, I had no actual sunglasses and the brightness wasn't helping matters, especially as it was being doubled by the reflection from the snow.

My Eyes!

No familiar faces at the bars and cafes, so I have a quick water and make my way back to town via the ski road. I try every shop I pass on the way to the hotel, but none sell Nurofen ... I was later told that in Bulgaria you can only buy things like this in a pharmacy, which would explain the blank looks and shrugs I got in the mini-supermarkets I tried, but at the time didn't know this so called in at every one. Dumping my board and boots at the Strazhite on the way past I made my way to the old town and eventually, all the way down Pirin Street, found a drug store ... by the way they're called Nurofen in Bulgaria too.

I also bought a pair of sunglasses and had a long lunch (well, breakfast) in a Mehana in town, and felt so, so much better. Head clear, eyes shaded and belly full I felt ready to tackle the hill again, but walking back into the hotel for my board I discovered it was past 3pm! Bugger. By the time I got up to the gondola and into a pod, and eventually up the hill, there would be time for maybe one run down the ski road. Besides, I'd already done the mountain from top to bottom this morning and then walked the length of the town, so better to chill out and watch a bit of TV than to rush up the hill. I was asleep in front of Mythbusters in seconds.

Had a lazy night that night too, with dinner in the hotel a movie on TV and eventually a pint in the Lion when I dragged myself out. I just wasn't in the mood for it tonight, so left my pint unfinished, headed back ... and found Sexy Sport Clips on the TV. That cheered me up no end.

Tuesday - Off Piste!

Skidding to a stop at Shiligarnika after my now customary first run down the hill I run into Phil, Lisa, Suntec Steve, Cathy, Mike, Steve (Smag) Smith, Ian, Steve C and Wendy. All the gang are here and we have a great time with Steve C eventually taking us off piste into the Todorka bowl. Phil and Smag both have a wee fall, and I have trouble keeping up on my board as we race through the bushes, but manage to keep Wendy's pink jacket in my sights and make it back to the bar in one piece. That really calls for a drink!

Weeeeeee

A lazy afternoon after a mental morning ends with me on the ski road, eyes peeled for 'The Cave' bar. It's one of the cheapest Mehanas in Bansko, but you have to find it first. Along the ski road, on your left hand side as you travel towards town, there are some caves on a small cliff face ... after that there's a billboard for a real estate company, and just behind that is the 'Cave'. That's not it's real name by the way, just what it got called by those in the know. Actually, once you've found it, you're amazed that you ever missed it as it actually is quite big. I have a really cheap beer or two then make my way down over the flatter parts of the ski road to town.

After the off-piste part of today's riding I mentioned to Steve C that my board maybe needed a bit of a sharpen. He told me to go to the hire place in the gondola station ... and after a great full service I'll now recommend it to you, for either skis or board ... cheap(ish), quick and very good.

Another quietish night. I have a meal in the hotel, then meet up with Phil and Lisa in the Irish for a drink. We're not there too late, as we've got a big busy day tomorrow ...

Wednesday - BOROVETS!

Up early for Steve C and Wendy, as we're heading across country today ... to Borovets! Phil, Lisa, Smag and myself are bundled up in one of the earlybird transfer mini buses and take the (2 hour? can't remember!) trip to that magical wee resort, and when we get there ... it's empty! Seriously, it was deserted.

The Rila slopes ... utterly empty

Admittedly this shot was taken later on when the four man had closed for the day, but there are always people still playing on the hill, wandering around, sliding about on sledges. But today, no-one.

We had a great breakfast with Amie and Ariee! who last year had the Alpina, but at this point in the season were now running Chilly Peppers. Full of breakfast meat, we buy day passes at the gondola (which are cheaper than expected as the season is ending) and make our way up the hill.

Ahhhh Borovets, how I love this place. And as an added bonus it was snowing. Although Bansko had a good base and all runs were open, it hadn't actually snowed for a few days. Borovets had had a fair few inches of fresh stuff, and it was still gently falling so I had some of the best runs of the week down the Yastabrets slopes. A few more people to be seen up here, but still incredibly quiet. Not that I'm complaining as I've had moments in Borovets waiting in a queue to start off down the hill, so really savoured the great conditions and getting them almost to myself. Meet up with Gerry Koolski on the hill for a bit, then everyone splits up to head for a favourite run. Phil and Smag head to the Rila side and have a brilliant time on the big Rila black ... just above the building that used to have the 'Obey' the big sheep on it, but I stay up the mountain and play until my legs hurt!

Top of Yastabrets Express ... all alone

I head back down eventually for the meal we've got planned with Amiee and Arie but I must make a quick stop somewhere first. Walking into Franco's Bar I look up and there it is, still on the roof, my old board. I toast it with a pint but I'm disappointed that Tommy isn't here, apparently up the mountain teaching some people, but as I finish up he storms in, spots me, and gives me a huge hug. This is why I still visit these places. It used to be a cheaper alternative to the Alps, now it's a place where huge Eastern European men will break out into huge smiles when they see you and squeeze you like an old teddy bear! He refuses to let me pay for my beer, even when I break the bad news that I'm not staying in the resort, just over for the day, but makes me promise to come back soon. I'm aiming for 2012!

Great meal with Smag, Phil and Lisa, the Koolskis, Amiee and Arie and Steve and Wendy, but notice that during the hour or so we were in there, hardly anyone passed the window. And this isn't the Alpina at a far corner of the resort ... this is Chilly Peppers (or 101 cocktails or whatever it's called these days) right in the centre, opposite the Rila. This place is really, really deserted!

Snooze in the bus on the way back, but it's not enough to recharge the batteries after such a long day. We head to the Irish as it's St. Patrick's day, but mentally I think we're all already in bed. I don't think I made it through my third Guinness, but I did try.

Thursday - Yet another blast from the past.

The Strazhite Hotel has a free bus that takes you to and from the gondola, but for some reason I kept missing it. It left every half hour, on the half hour, and I knew this, but I'd always find myself getting outside for 9.35 or 10.05 and facing either a five minute walk up the hill or a twenty five minute wait in the car park. The walk won every time, and this morning I met yet another blast from the past.

The walk up, all of it ... that's the Happy End pub in the distance.

When I was almost at the gondola I walked past a guy in an instructor's uniform. A handsome Bulgarian guy with a familiar face. We both did a double take. Fucking Hell! Mike! My instructor from 2005! The legend who took us out for an extra two days ... and the reason I get called TK!

I'll quickly explain ... we had a DVD made in 2005 (see 2005 report for details ... obviously) and at the end Mike went round everyone with a piece of paper for our full names for the credits. Trouble is, he couldn't get to grips with my last name so I quickly said, 'just put Robert TK', my first name and last two initials ... and thought nothing more about it for a year. In 2006 he was working upstairs in Franco's, spotted me coming in and shouted, "Heyyyy Teekayyyy" and so a sort-of nickname was born.

We had a long chat and he invited me up to his accommodation for a beer that night .... and to my eternal shame and chagrin, I didn't take him up on it. I'd arranged a poker game online for that night and felt bad about missing it, but it was brilliant to see him again, if just for a chat in the street. To think I'd felt apprehensive about this week as I was coming out alone. It was becoming a ski down memory lane!

I got to the top of the hill via pod, chairlift, chairlift and had a very gentle run down to the bars at 'Shili' as we were now calling it. I stopped halfway and had a wee slug from the hipflask I'd brought with me and hardly used .. and right at that moment, Smag skied past. We made our way to the Shilli bars and had more beers than we should have chatting and soaking up the sun. I mentioned that I'd never actually snowboarded any of the runs at the Chalin Valog part of the resort, so after forcing ourselves to move, we made out way down the ski road, peeling off at the right moment, and arriving at the bottom of the Chalin chairlift.

The ski road as seen from a pod.

At the top we met Suntec, Cathy and Mike so rode down together. I put snowboarder tolerance back a few years by side slipping down the black bit and scraping off some snow (I can do steep, but for fucks sake this was STEEP, and narrow, and bendy) but as soon as it leveled out I let rip and had an amazing run to the bottom. Really, when I think back to this holiday, this was the run I remember most vividly ... it was brilliant. Fast, controlled, rhythmic, everything clicked ... so as everyone else headed off, I went up and did it again. Superb!

That night we assembled in the Irish Bar with Phil, Lisa, Smag and his dad, who was just back from taking a train to Vleningrad and back, a six hour journey. I also hooked up with the poker players I'd met online and spent the night both playing cards and chatting with Phil and Lisa during the breaks. It was such an energetic day and an exciting night that I have absolutely no memory of the game. I don't think I won (which is the most probable outcome) but I think the buy in was so low I wouldn't have noticed either way. Judging by my head the next morning, it was a good night.

Friday - Taking it Easy

I decided to have a slow one today. Everyone else was heading off to Dobrinitsa, a smaller resort about half an hour away. I decided against it as it was another early morning and also because I'd pre-paid for a six day Bansko pass ... I'd already forfeited one of the days and paid for a Borovets pass on top, so I wasn't going to do it again, especially on my last day.

Some nice tunes on my mp3 player, sun shining, I did top to bottom via some of the reds this time, and although I did have a few 'fuck me this is steep' moments I got down in one piece. The slopes here are quite deserted as as you can see in the next few pics I almost had a few runs to myself ...

For the last few seasons, mid-March has been the best time to be out in Bulgaria. No big holidays like half-term or Christmas, so no queues at the gondola, or anywhere for that matter and there's always been brilliant snow. In saying that, it didn't snow for the entire week I was in Bansko but the temperatures were low enough at night that they could run the cannons. The only place I actually noticed a difference from day one to day six was at the bottom of the ski road. By the end of the week there were some decidedly sticky parts which meant that I had to do that jumping back and forth from front foot to back foot thing on the board to keep going.

When I eventually completed my last run down I was knackered but didn't want to end things too abruptly. So I took my board off, propped it up on it's bindings, and laid against it, finishing what was left in my hip flask and enjoyed a smoke in the sun. Suntec Steve walked past and told me that his pal Mike had had a bad fall and had either broken or dislocated his arm. Suntec and his mate are brilliant skiers so it goes to show it can happen to anyone, the only consolation being that it happened late on the last day.

I wished Mike well and caught the bus back to the hotel, taking my board up to the room this time instead of leaving it in the ski area, to pack it away for another year.

So that's basically it. I was with Balkan Holidays who always seem to have early return flights. They seem okay at first glace, leaving at say 10 in the morning. But add the 2 hour check in time, plus the long transfer, and you can be leaving the resort at 5.30 in the morning ... which we did. I had a quiet night of packing and finishing the supplies I had in the fridge.

The flight home the next day was fine, but the drive home was brutal as I went up the East coast and then cut across the middle of the country, which felt like it was taking forever ... but at long long last I got home and slept for the next week!

Bye for now

NOTES

Huge thanks to Steve C and Wendy, the Koolskis, Smag (and his Dad), Phil and Lisa, Suntec Steve Cathy and Mike, Mattsville and the other poker players, Amiee and Arie, the crepe stall guy and Tommy in Francos ... amongst so many others ... for making it a brilliant week. See you all soon!

Borovets 2009

2011-02-21T15:01:00.000-08:00

Bad start this year. We really, really couldn't find a holiday. Emails flew back and forth every day from Christmas up until a week or so before we were meant to depart, when finally I got, eh, something.

Flying from Manchester, we're booked into a Borovets hotel, but we won't know what one until we get there. I'm fine with that but Stu is moaning that'll we'll probably get The Overlook (The Bor) again. I argue that The Bor is lovely, but have to agree that the long walk does get annoying after a while.

Inghams Square Deals. We'll have to wait and see.

Friday - We're (almost) on our way ...

The night before we leave, Stu joins me in the house after a mad day of shopping and making his way to Glasgow, and as usual when I meet up with him after work he's worried about the snow reports. To be honest, the reports from people coming back after their holidays are mixed at best. Does the gondola keep closing, is the resort too icy? Again we'll have to wait and see.

Personally I'm not bothered as both 'Snow Forecast' and 'Met Check' have started reporting large snowfalls over the next few days, so I'm chilled out as Tim comes round for some Tacos and a night of ski movies to get us in the mood. We're chatting and suddenly both Stu and Tim realise they have no insurance, so we head online to get it and spend the rest of the night looking at Borovets on YouTube.

Actually, and I don't think I've mentioned it on any of these blogs before, but the internet is invaluable for pre-departure checks. Not only getting insurance at the last second, but you can't beat YouTube, for raw unedited footage of the resort you are about to visit, and fairly regular video snow reports from places like BanskoBlog.com.

No weather site is better than any other, but when Met-check and Snow Forecast say the same thing, you can usually believe it. Weather checks also make up a lot of the posts on bulgariaski.com and skidvd.com as many people on there are in resort all season long, and will tell you what lifts are open, how much snow is on it and much more, like where to get the best meal or cheapest beer.

Talking of beers, we've probably had too much, Tim heads home and Stu heads to bed. I decide I'd better start packing.

Saturday - A beer so big it's hard to lift.

Six in the morning is just too early. Mumbling and stumbling we load the car, pick up Tim, and head to ASDA for the usual haul of 'things you can only get in the UK and are missed in Bulgaria' for people who are living out in the resort and eventually hit the road to Manchester.

A few Bulgarian tunes, unbelievable farts and scary we're-not-going-to-make-it fuel stops later we hit Manchester airport well on time. I have my last few cigs outside then get ripped off in an airport shop buying discs for my camcorder. There's a tip. Don't leave buying recording media or memory cards until the last minute!

Stu's nerves aside, the flight is fine. Just under 3 hours sees us in Sofia and with a wee bottle for the transfer. We head off in three different directions, stop, go back and speak to the rep and eventually find the right coach. An hour and a half later we're in Borovets.

Hotel Moura

On approach to the resort we were handed our lift passes, welcome packs and told that we are staying in the Moura. Superb. I've not stayed there before, but had a friend who had. It's central, being just a few yards down the hill from the gondola, and is clean, warm and has a nice bar. It even has a couple of parrots in a big cage in reception. Tim is over the moon as last year he was down in Samokov town, so staying in the resort is a real novelty. Stu and I are worried though, as we enter the room we realise that there's just a single and a double bed. Who's going to share with whom?

I go to reception and get palmed off, so come back swearing and realise that there's now a maid in the room, converting the rooms only chair into a third bed. Ahhh, that's why I got palmed off I think … whilst quietly moving my bags onto the double.

If you book a package holiday to a ski resort in Bulgaria, on half board, you'll get a free meal on arrival. It may be a bag of something weird, or as in this case, a sit-down three-course meal. A lot is said on internet forums about the quality of Bulgarian food, but to be honest, who cares? It was warm, filling and free.

We've got places to be this evening, but before we venture out we have to visit the noisy night club just below reception in our hotel. Tonight was the only night we heard a peep from it, and after discovering that it was populated by just men, around twenty big men, (I'm saying nothing) we headed out to last years home from home, The Alpina.

The bar is open, and is packed. As arranged online I shout 'On the piste' as we walk in and get a cheer … but more importantly we meet up with Caroline and Bobby who we'd spent a lot of last year's holiday with. It's brilliant to see old friends again. We chat with loads of people from the forums, then as all the sensible ones call it a night we decide to pay another favourite haunt a visit, Franco's. Tommy the bar manager is still a bad bad man and gives us a beer each in a glass so big it's hard to lift. But we manage.

Stumbling back to the rooms around 2am, food in hand, old board still in place on Franco's roof, and more importantly, lots of snow on the ground, all is right with the world. I head to bed whilst Tim and Stu have an unwise nightcap at the hotel bar. They fall in and wake me up an hour later. I wasn't watching 'Sexy Sport Clips', honest.

Sunday - Two year's misery wiped out in two turns

Alarms go off at 8am, snooze buttons are hit fast. Not really, no-one of us can move that fast so snooze buttons are hit when the cries of 'shut that fucking thing up' get too loud and violent. We all surface at a speed we're comfortable with.

After a mini snowball fight and some provisions bought from the shop next door we're up, out and on the gondola. Tim's a bit worried about the hire boots he has, but forgets about them for the moment as we reach the top. Blue skies and fairly empty pistes. We get on our gear and take the big blue run (Markudjik 1) straight to the bottom. Stu has a great time, the best in a long time and mentions at the the bottom that that's two years misery washed away in two turns.

We're heading for the new chairlift between Markudjik 2A and 2B and as Tim skis off I take my board off and walk with Stu down to it. Well, the new chairlift is a breath of fresh air. What used to be a terrifying oh-fuck-please-don't-fall poma, is now a relaxing sit down. Until we get to the top and the wind hits. Visibility drops to almost nothing so we strap in, stay close, and get out of there as soon as we can.

That run ( I think it's called Sunar) from the top of the chairlift back down to the cafés below the gondola is another one of these ones that's 'green for skiiers, not so sure for boarders'. The fall line requires you to be on one edge far more than the other. Stu's legs are on the hot side after it so he decides to take the Gondola back down as Tim and I hit Yastabrets 1. We hare it down, and beat Stu to Franco's by a good few minutes. We go for the cannibal pizzas again and are shocked that they are £8. Stu starts a chant, What do we want? CHEAP PIZZA When do we want it? CHEAP PIZZA. Needs work. As do Franco's prices. We used to practically live there when in Borovets, now it's getting too expensive.

Tim's boots are starting hurt him badly so after lunch we split up, Stu and I tackling different parts of the Rila slopes, Tim off to change boots then back up the gondola to properly try them out.

Over on the Rila slopes

We reunite at the end of the day in the lobby of the Samokov Hotel for the welcome meeting, and the infamous welcome meeting wine. We sign up for the quiz as it's usually a good laugh, head back to the hotel, grab an unidentifiable dinner, and eventually fall asleep whilst trying to take off our gear.

At 9pm we're awoken by Stu shouting 'It's snowing!' We get over excited and start flinging it about but for our own safety we have to call a snowball truce before anyone dies and/or gets chucked out of the hotel. It lasts around ten minutes.

We wander up the Alpina with our bag of 'things you can only get in the UK and are missed in Bulgaria' for Amiee and Arie who work and live there. Marmite, freezer bags, mustard, crème eggs in exchange for lots of beer. It's still snowing hard as Tim goes outside to cool down and Stu and I look out, across at the Breza hotel … the first hotel we stayed in together here. Stu goes off on one…

Stu: Look, the Breza Hotel. Looming in the darkness. Remember that guy who worked there when we stayed. He freaked me out something serious. Some creature who stalked and crept around his own hotel. A werewolf, chewing on the skulls of children when the moon is close enough to whisper its secrets in the ear of the mentally insane. Every time he laughs, somewhere, a dog howls, lies down, and dies. I'm sure if you could see the hotel from the air, you would see the shadow of a Manta Ray emanating from it and dwarfing the resort.

Personally I quite liked it.

Fortunately, just as Stu was reaching his peak, there was a crashing noise from outside. A parasol over an outside table was so heavy with snow it had collapsed, onto Tim. Arie runs out to save him, but the rest of us can't move for laughing.

All is well, but we decide, after watching 'Sexy Sport Clips' for half an hour, to call it a night.

Monday - Filming 'Borovets Heaven'

Bobby, Caroline, Tim and myself are up out and on the gondola, cameras running, for a few amazing runs in the fresh snow. We even hike up that little bit above Fon Fon to get some first tracks, and although it's deep deep powder we all get to the bottom unscathed.

Just walked up this ...

... for some deep snow

But at least we won't lose Caroline in it ... not with THAT helmet on.

We do the mountain twice, and have some amazing runs that appear in the YouTube video 'Borovets Heaven' that appears above.

Stu: Its 11.45 before I manage to stretch my muscles into something resembling co-operation. The black run (Martinovi Baraki 4) has re-opened and there are people both flying and falling down it. I'm staying away from that bad boy. I have some runs back and forth where the ski-a-thong was last year (Iglika) and eventually head up the chairlift.

I'm strapping in at the top of the red as my phone goes. The guys are in Mamma Mia's having a pizza so I start to tentatively make my way down to them. At the point where the green run crosses the red I go arse over tit and end up in the 'scorpion position' flat on my front with legs and board almost, almost touching my head. Bugger. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm only on full view of everyone including the live webcam. This run is too icy. Never again.

It's not Stu's day as the staff at Mamma Mia's immediately dub him 'Jimmy, the rock dinosaur' for reasons know only to themselves, but we have a lovely lunch with not only Stu, Tim and myself, but Bob and Caroline, and Bobs sister Nicky and her husband who confusingly was also called Stu.

Jimmy the Rock Dinosaur

We realise that we've been chatting for ages, and that the lifts will close in under two hours so Tim and I shoot back up the gondola, leaving everyone else to the Rila.

Stu: The other Stu accompanies me on the Rila chair and as he's still a beginner I'm quite relieved. It means I can take my time and don't need to keep up with Bob or Caroline. I get on okay at first but then I end up falling four times in my last two runs down, one of which was into a skier (his fault though). I hate this fucking run. Seriously. I hope it gets aids.

Stu's still moaning as we head up to the Alpina, after dinner in the hotel, for our annual pre-arranged-on-the-internet poker night. It's busier than expected so we hastily arrange another table and slowly whittle 18 players down to five. Stu was still moaning, but then went very very quiet, and put in a little bet. (I should explain that he's played poker about three or four times, the last time being in this very pub last year.) Tim, who plays regularly, raises and gets well and truly trapped by Stu's immediate all in. Tim takes ages, and eventually calls against Stu's unbelievable quad Kings.

Tim: Jimmy the rock dinosaur quad king bastard. Quad Kings! QUAD KINGS!

Sorry if you don't play poker, but it's a fairly rare hand. I took a picture. Stu went on to win for around 40lev, knocking me out in second with trip aces. He stopped moaning too..

We have another game after the pub shuts with a few stragglers and the bar staff that goes on a bit. So much so that the pub ran out of draft beer. We soldier on with bottles, Stu and I safe in the knowledge that the game has more than covered tonight's drinks bill!

Tuesday - I Can't Believe it's Not Butter.

Up and away early for some more runs up and down the mountain with Tim as Stu examines his bruises and decides to have a day off. Bobby, Caroline, Tim and myself stick with each other for the day having some incredible runs. On the way to the mid-station I pull a few very high speed carving turns so I rocket across the slope with my body at such an angle that my shoulders are brushing the piste. Bob said it would have looked so much more impressive if I wasn't screaming.

We review all the day's footage in the hotel bar and are joined by Stu plus two other residents, Andy (or was it Tony) and John. They're old school skiers but Bulgaria virgins, and although they're finding the going good they're questioning the grading of a lot of the runs, mentioning that a lot of them, particularly the Rila reds, would be graded as black runs in France or Austria. Having done them as ice, at night, I have to agree.

After a rest, a wash and a meal, we're upstairs in Franco's for the quiz. Not as good this year as we're thrown in with some people from Essex who, well, lets say, they were finding it a bit hard. Stu sits and reads the menu and comments now and again at the translations, and wonders how you can get a home-made salmon, whilst Tim, the artist in the group, gets the 'make something out of tinfoil' round to do. He makes a cock and balls. He even added some mayonnaise.

We know we're not going to win so start to take the piss. We get the question, “What brand of spread is named after a Greek Goddess?” and we persuade our Essex team mates, and I'm not making this up, to write, “I Can't Believe it's Not Butter.'

Andy/Tony and John have turned up late and joined us at the table and we rope them into doing some of the interactive rounds, like the mildly racist talk like a Bulgarian round. I think we left before it finished.

The lights on top of the Rila Hotel illuminate a heavy looking sky as we head to the Alpina, which is empty save for a few familiar faces. Clive and his lady-killer son Dan come in for a while and we have a nice quiet night until Amiee decides to lock up and go out on the town. We head out and discover it's snowing. SNOWING. Big huge heavy flakes that we savour walking around in, knowing that tomorrow will be spectacular. Early to bed (at around 2 in the morning)

Wednesday - POWDER DAY!

It's been snowing all night and the resort looks like a winter paradise. We soon realise that everyone has had the same idea of being up and away early and the gondola queue is huge, so decide to wait it out in the resort during which time Stu and I can get our boards properly prepared. We head to Revolution Bar (where Tim last year had his first ever Brandy and Hot Chocolate) and get our boards serviced whilst we're having a lazy coffee. It comes with a free shot. It's 8 in the morning!

A wax, an edge and 30 minutes later we walk onto a gondola pod that we get to ourselves. It's a brilliant morning, spoiled only by the eye watering fart that Stu does a quarter of the way up' Health and Safety be damned as Tim and I rip open the doors enough to get our noses out into the fresh air.

Jeeeeeesus! Stu!

Stu: This is the first time I've been in such amazing conditions on my board and I love it. I've always been on ice or hard packed snow. I'm buzzing so hard I'm sweating spinal fluid. The mountain is almost empty. I actually manage to go all the way along the path bit without having to take my board off and walk. In fact for large parts of it I'm going down backwards then switching back to my normal stance. YES! THIS IS AMAZING. Tim heads off on his own and I insist that Robert goes with him but he stays with me. Thankfully. We head all the way down Yastabrets 3. It's not the steepness that gets me its how incredibly bumpy it is so I'm taking it nice and easy. We make it in not too bad time and as we reach the bottom Tim reappears and straight lines down the black at the bottom. Even he is surprised at how quick I managed it. (A lot of this run appears in the video Borovets Heaven).

It's snowing again as we walk over to the chair lift and meet Bob, Caroline, Clive and Dan. We all head to the mid station together, skiing and boarding around each other, and I'm chuffed that I almost kept up with Dan, who's half my age.

Stu: I'm last to go and I really have the best run of my life (so far), which includes all my years of skiing. I'm turning fast and often, keeping my radius shorter and keeping my speed constant. I actually smile to myself as I cut up Caroline and fly past her. She beats to the mid station of course as I take my board off to walk the narrow path. Here we all have a drink and take a few pics …

I decided to quit while I'm ahead and follow Clive and Dan down to the Alpina while the rest go back up gondola for another run.

Meet up later for lunch, then as Tim heads back up the gondola I decide to stick with Stu and stay on the Rila side … but my lift pass has stopped working. It happens every year, I seem to get the one with the dodgy barcode. It still has the right dates on it, but the automatic barriers don't care. There's no liftie there so I decide to jump the barrier, catch the bottom of my salopette on it, and crash down on the other side. Just to make things better my board gets stuck it the bar on the chairlift at the top as we try to raise it and we only just get off, then discover that although the mountain is a winter wonderland, this place is still a bit icy. So much so that Stu takes his board off and walks.

Bob and myself are too a bit annoyed at the icy piste, but we see a bit that looks to have perfect snow. Ok, it's a black run, and there's a big barrier across it saying 'CLOSED' … but it looks so tempting.

Of course, as soon as we're over the crest of the hill, and through the lovely deep snow at the top we discover that is was closed for a very good reason. Huge clumps of ice and snow that we climb over rather than board down on. Big patches of grass. Scary sheets of ice. Lovely stuff. We slowly make it about halfway down where the conditions improve immeasurably. In fact, it looks like the piste-bashers got this far up and called it a day, so we cruise down to the bottom of the run, slowing only for the part where it's intersected by the green path and lower down, a road. It's at the road that we meet Stu again, and the three of us head across to the Alpina to compare bruises.

Steve C and (a heavily pregnant) Wendy who we know from the forums and who now live in Bansko, have made the trip across to see everyone so we chat with them for a bit before a quick kip, change and lovely gorgeous beautiful steak in Katy's (Go there.)

Before you know it we're back in the Alpina for the quiz. Thing is, some of the questions sound familiar … very familiar. “What brand of spread is named after a Greek Goddess?” These were the exact same questions from the other night! We actually write 'Flora' this time, amongst many other correct answers, and get a bottle of vodka for our troubles. It doesn't make it to the morning.

Steve and Wendy eventually hit the road back to Bansko around midnight, and we head at the same time. Like the sophisticated men about town we are we wander back to the hotel, taking turns to slug vodka straight from the bottle. Classy. We finsh it while watching 'Sexy Sports Clips'.

Actually, I should explain 'Sexy Sports Clips'. Depending on your hotel you will get certain channels on the TV in your room. One year in Bansko I got HBO which was brilliant, and you'll usually get CNN or BBC World or some other channel in English. And sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll get porn. Proper porn (Obviously this is a subjective use of the word 'lucky'!) We'd been able to find it most years so far, until now, when all we could get was this weird thing called 'Sexy Sports Clips'. Basically a softcore striptease in a sporty location … a go-kart track, or a gym, or (the poor girl) a ski slope and it was as pathetic as it sounds. But at the same time, it was so bad it was good, and was never off the TV later on in the evening. As I said ... classy.

Thursday - The missing key

Lovely day, so we're off and out and various speeds according to our levels of fitness. Tim, 9am, me 10am. At 11am, Stu gets out of bed and goes to the shop, then tries to go back to bed again.

Stu: When I return to my total shock the maid is here and, Oh is she pissed looking. Two words. Bomb Site. There are more beer glasses on our table than at the bar. The smell would choke a donkey, the body on the floor....

Anyway I hang around until she leaves, grab my gear then saunter up the hill. I grab some food at Bar Joy by the gondola station and chat to some English people for a bit. The Bulgarian guy here laughs and remarks "20 hour drinking, 1 hour ski, 3 hours sleep, good sport this drinking!"

I manage a few circuits to the mid station, but my legs aren't strong enough today to cope with going any further down. There's an almost total white-out on my third run and due to traffic I have to take off my board and walk the long straight. Kids flying and falling everywhere. Some people seem to be desperate to get off the mountain and I don't blame them. Its shockingly easy to get lost in a white out, almost happened to me on the first day. I head back down just before the gondola closes and sit it out in the Alpina.

I'm chatting to the usual suspects when Tim and TK go past in a horse-taxi … then I notice the room key is still in my pocket. Shit! My phone is off, but Bob gets a text,

*HAVE YOU SEEN STU?

*YES, HE'S SITTING NEXT TO ME.

I bet the next text is, does he have our fucking room key on him?

*DOES HE HAVE OUR FUCKING ROOM KEY ON HIM?

Laughing, Bob, Caroline and myself head down to rescue them from the lobby bar.

Stu eventually appears and we finally get our gear off. We've spent the day filming and boarding/skiing the mountain from top to bottom and have had a hard but brilliant time of it. The piste is superb at the moment and with the snow cannons running too, the conditions up top are amazing, but by this time we are well and truly knackered, and need -NEED- to get these boots off.

We're asleep in seconds.

Later we're up and about but Stu is feeling the pace and takes ages to walk up to the pub. We amble with him and suddenly realise, as we're slowly strolling around, just how quiet the place is. And this isn't the end of the season or anything, this is the end of January. The Alpina is always busy, but that's because it's one of the cheapest and friendliest places you'll ever find, but other pubs seem very quiet. We reckon it's a purely economic factor. It's better to sell ten beers at 2lev than one beer at 4lev, but try telling some of these people that. We haven't really been in Franco's all week purely because of this, and overall the whole resort needs to have a think about its pricing structure before very much longer. We go because we love it, but many people go because it's a cheap option, cheaper than many resorts in the Alps, but if it keeps going this way it simply won't be worth it.

Anyway. Thursday night in the Alpina is Karaoke night, and it doesn't disappoint. The place is packed and many people are queuing out to belt out Oasis in the key of 'Naaaah'. We're distracted by the mind numbing vision of Stu drinking bottled water instead of beer, but as the night goes on and the place empties a bit, he decides the water has helped enough that he can go back onto the pints again.

ROCK!

Now the place is a bit quieter, Tim decides he should have a go and looks at the song list. Upon discovering that there's loads of Metallica and AC/DC he's up like a shot and we have a hard job getting the mic from him. The other Stu eventually succeeds, then we wish he hadn't has he murders … no, garottes ... Ring of Fire. A very funny night that one day will go up on YouTube ... as I still have it on tape. Keep sending the money guys.

Friday - Last Full Day

Tim and I are up and out and giving the circuit from top to mid-station a good kicking. Stu was going to come up and join us later, but decides to stick to the green on the Rila side. It's a good day's riding all told, but it's the last day and we're all feeling the strain of long days and late nights.

After an early stop and a longer than usual kip, we have a quiet game of poker in the Alpina, which ends up with Stu and I heads up. We're too tired for a long game so decide to split the majority of the pot and go all-in for the remainder. Stu wins. For fuck's sake! He hasn't played for two years as I write this, I on the other hand have won a few tournaments and have a high ranking on the online site I use, but I bet the next time we lock horns he wipes the floor with me.

Swearing, I get the last beers in, and we start to say our goodbyes.

Stu: I decide I want a souvenir, so go to steal a small poster for a strip club that's stapled to a telegraph pole by the taxi rank. The taxi drivers find this very funny and start shouting and making 'Nee Naw' siren noises at us before bursting out laughing.

We do the same and go back to the hotel in a happy mood. 'Sexy Sport Clips' is on. Look its a lovely equestrian scene. There's a sweet, pert girl taking her riding gear off beside a horse and trying not to step in the steaming pile of shit by her feet that has just appeared. We're crying with laughter.

Saturday - Proper Last day.

Long lie, long shower, then short walk up to Alpina for a long breakfast. Saturday is movie day, so we spend our last hours relaxing in front of the TV and watching coaches ferry people in and out of the resort.

Stu: I'm feeling terrible today and after much deliberation I decide to go to the pharmacy in the Rila. Unfortunately the pharmacist spoke no English so I grab my stomach and simulate being sick all over the counter. With a grave look on her face she nods and hands me some orange pills. To this day I'm still too afraid to Google the name on the back but they're NOT for an upset stomach. Knowing my luck theses are birth control pills. For horses. Having 'been on the pill' for a good few hours now I'm starting to feel strange and emotional … and I want to eat some hay. I decide to visit Nurse Aimee at the Alpina. "This man needs strong Vodka, STAT"

Later in the afternoon we say our 4th or 5th goodbye to everyone in the Alpina and we're off to the airport, sad to be leaving, but glad we were there in the first place. The flight and the trip back up the motorway to Scotland are a mercifully quick, but muted affair.

Stu: Maybe it's just me, but I find Borovets a rather weird and wonderful place. The resort must be built on ley-lines that cause the shifting of some strange gears. Its like Twin peaks but with better music. The realm of 'obey' the great sheep that watches all. I've only been to Bulgaria 5 times and with a bit of luck I'll soon make it 6. A quick check of my emails and I dive into my own bed. Already as I lie here falling into a deep sleep i can hear the song of the resort calling me back. That strange magnetic pull, an inexplicable low hum that once your mind and soul is tuned into, Will never let you go. Once more, oblivion welcomes me with open arms.

Same time next year then.

NOTES

Not long after we left, Wendy (nightmuffy on the forums) gave birth to the lovely bundle of fun Jess, who, by now, will be a better skier than me.

Amiee and Arie no longer have the Alpina. The prices have gone up.

EXTRA NOTE

This page gets more views than any other on this site, by a mile, so I looked up the referral information and do you know what I found out? Well, I thought it was the Borovets Heaven video as it's had well over 7000 views at the time of writing, but no ... it's that picture from Sexy Sport Clips that's bringing them here! Sorry guys, keep searching.

Read This First

2010-01-13T15:45:00.000-08:00

Thanks for visiting.

If you're thinking about heading out to Bulgaria, or anywhere else for that matter, for a bit of snowboarding (or even skiing) and you're willing to troll through pages and pages of drunken rambling about nothing really, then you might pick up the odd tip here and there.

In fact, if you've never been before have a look at the page called, 'What to Expect' that should answer any questions you may have about the first morning.

I've skied and boarded all over, from a small resort just outside Las Vegas to Scotland in lashing rain, to Australia during an earthquake, and although there are arguably better resorts out there, I always seem to have a memorable time in Bulgaria, both on and off the slopes.

These are diaries written for fun, based on notes taken at the time by me or other people who were there. The notes were then put in a drawer and only found again when looking for the remainder last year's lev.

2013's report may appear one day but 2004 - 2011 are complete and if you've got a spare day and a half, they'd love it if you read them.

Introduction

My trip to Bulgaria in March 2013 was the thirteenth time I've been to the country, and the twelth time I've been there snowboarding.
My first trip was in 1989 when I was a young daft boy on an incredibly cheap trip to Albena as the then communist Bulgaria started to open its doors to visitors. It was a weird place that hadn't quite grasped the finer points of tourism ... spaghetti bolognese served from a steaming vat onto paper plates as a beach side snack springs to mind as a good example of not-quite-getting-it. There were also 'dollar-shops' where only tourists, with our hard currency of dollars or sterling, could sample the good

Old Style Lift Pass from 1999

Later, at the end of the 90's (after the fall of communism in most Eastern European countries), I worked as a supervisor on a dry ski slope and was told about this mega cheap resort called Borovets where Beer was 40p and you could ski or board for next to nothing. They were right! One day I forgot to lift my hat and gloves, and bought a hat, gloves and scarf set up in the resort for a little under £3.I then moved to London to get a proper job and forgot about winter sports for a while ... that is until early January 2004 when I got chatting to people on a website I used to write for, who were all heading off to Bulgaria. I've been there I thought! It was cheap! I could afford that, couldn't I?Turns out that I could, so every year since, sometimes twice a year, I've had my fix of snowboarding action. I actually started out on skis in my early days in Scotland, but saw the light early on, and have been boarding most of my adult life. (Although I will don the odd pair of skis, just to remind myself that yes, I can still do it, and no, I don't really like it as much.) So this is written from a boarding point of view, but there's something for everyone, two-planker or gay on tray ... as we've been know to call each other.

It's certainly not as cheap as it once was, not by a long way in fact, but the resorts, Pamporovo, Borovets and Bansko have improved and expanded by a factor that would have been unthinkable a few years back. (I know there are at least twenty other resorts in Bulgaria, but I'm focusing on the big three available to the UK market.)

So here is a collection of reports and travel guides I've posted on various websites, mainly http://www.skidvd.co.uk/ and http://www.bulgariaski.com/. As of 2005, an almost constant companion has been my very good mate Stu, who has been good enough to keep a diary to remind me what we got up to ... even on the nights we'd rather forget. I mention where it's his scribblings and not mine.

The benefit of posting the reports here means I can add photos and embed videos. You'll notice that the quality of the photos improves year by year, as camera phone technology improves; and also my boarding comes on leaps and bounds as I go from novice, to intermediate, to instructor (albeit only an ASSI at a dry slope and at Glasgow's Xscape for a while) ... and back to intermediate again.

Enjoy.

Borovets 2008

2010-01-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

And then there were three. Back to Borovets again this year, Me, Stu and introducing Tim.

Saturday – Yo ho ho and a bottle of jizz.

Flying from Manchester once again this year and as I collect Stu he's in a foul mood. He's been looking at the webcams and snow reports constantly over the past week and they're all saying the same thing. No snow. Dammit. We both remember the barren, snowless Bansko of last year as we load the car and set off. The mood doesn't get any better when we hear on the radio that an overturned lorry has blocked the motorway at the same instant as we hit the traffic jam.

Stu needs cheering up, so I present him with the 'Ski-A-Thong' t-shirt I’d bought for him a few weeks back. It makes him sadder.

Things improve though, and rest of the journey is fairly painless. On arrival in Sofia we’re delighted to see that Natalie is our Thomson’s rep as we know her from a few previous visits. We chat to her on the bus as Stu reveals the bottle he ran away to buy in Sofia airport. It's clear and we assume it’s vodka, but the label reads something like ‘Jezzun’ which we immediately re-dub ‘jizz’ and spend the rest of the transfer in immature giggles.

We're staying at the Bor Hotel this year, a second visit for me, but the first time for Stu, and he goes quiet.

Stu - Something seems familiar about this place and I can’t quite put my finger on it. When we walk through the door onto our level I stare down this long and very dimly lit corridor, I expect to see two small figures standing at the end, staring right at me with a voice booming down the hall "Come play with us Stu...forever...and…ever...and ever", this IS the overlook hotel from the Shining, I’m convinced!

It’s lovely, really. Warm, clean rooms, cheap bar, and an ok dining room by Borovets standards. The only thing that counts against it is its location, about ten or fifteen minutes walk away from the resort centre and lifts/gondola. But then again, if you fancy a bit of peace and quiet that might be in its favour.

View from the Bor (with no snow!)

We bounce out onto the street and take that walk up to the resort talking of times past. We've heard of a new pub this year, one called the Alpina, which is run by a couple called Amiee and Arie who have been active on the forums we use, so we hunt it down. It's easy to find, being opposite the Flora and Breza hotels on one of the main streets, but it's in darkness and locked. We walk on round to Franco’s to visit Tommy the barman and to check that my old snowboard is still on the roof. It is, and Tommy, the bad, bad man gives us a few drinks to celebrate.

We have a long night and Stu gets himself lost a bit, but by morning we're all present and correct, if badly badly hungover! Never drink Jizz!

Sunday - Welcome back to the jungle, Introducing Tim and there’s no porn on this telly!

My phone is ringing and ringing and ringing. I answer and hear a familiar voice swearing at me.

Sleep

It’s ringing again, more swearing.

Sleep

And again, lots more swearing. I’m starting to swim out of the glue. OH SHIT! TIM!

Tim Sandys is an artist, photographer, web designer, tattoo designer, piercer and master of as many other creative pursuits as you care to mention. He’s also a great friend of mine and many months before I’d mentioned Borovets to him as the place to be this winter. He’d agreed and although he was too late to join us on the Thomson’s flight he’d found one from Luton and got a lovely apartment from Koolski in Samakov Town. We’d arranged to meet in front of the Samokov Hotel at around 8am. That was over an hour ago. FUCK!

At my behest he’d travelled to London, to Sofia, to Samakov, got up early, got kitted out, and was now standing in front of a strange hotel, in a strange town, in a strange country and we were not there to meet him.

Head down through a combination of hangover and guilt we shuffle up to him very, very late and mumble our apologies. Luckily he too relieved to kill us just yet.

After a hunt in the hotel, we find Natalie who gives Stu and I our lift passes and by way of an apology we take Tim for his first ever Chocolate Brandy. We’re tickled by the guy who recognises our accents and shouts, “Ahh Scottish, a Cheerz a big earz” So we have our drinks in the pub he’s touting for.

Stu is checking that all his money, belongings and limbs are still all accounted for after last night, but his adventure is already becoming a butt for our jokes.

"There’s a dog out front that can hardly walk...are you sure you weren’t responsible?"

"Ahh, holiday romance."

Another grovelling apology to Tim and he’s forgiven us enough to be alone in a gondola pod with him and not murder us, so we head for the queue and run into the lovely Tanny from the skidvd and Bulgaria ski forums. We chat away but Tanny is more concerned with the fact that Stu has no jacket and nothing on under his fleece! We hadn’t noticed this until now.

“You'll die up there! Go get your jacket there’s plenty of time.”

"It’s cool, I'll be fine."

"Really, seriously, go get your jacket!" Tim, Tanny and me yell this in unison. Would he listen?! Of course we get to the top and it’s a gorgeous day and Tim and I eventually take our jackets off too, but Stu got off lightly! We go across to the green on top of the mountain for a warm up and as usual Stu is pounced on by the guys with cameras and furry, smelly costumes. He must give off a ‘big green frog’ or ‘bad Shrek costume’ pheromone or something.

Stu has a brand new board this season and can’t quite get used to it. Tim, who is on skis, is also a bit shaky on the first few runs so we slowly make our way back to the resort and decide once down the mountain is enough before lunch. During three cannibal pizza’s in Franco’s Stu and I argue about his binding set up and I set about them with a screwdriver

“Look you fool! There’s NO WAY that will work.”

“Trust me and try it”

Debating whether or not we’d just ate human flesh, I mean, why else would they call it a cannibal pizza, we head up to the Rila slopes for a few runs. The sun is worryingly hot.

“Well. How are your bindings now Stu?”

“Sigh” head low “better”

Tim’s feeling a bit more confident now and fancies something with ‘some teeth’ so I take him up on the 4 man chair while Stu stays at the bottom to get used to his new board. As the chair lift gets moving Stu rattles me with a snowball. Direct hit and from quite a distance. Impressive, but still a git.

Five or six runs down the Rila slopes later we assemble again and make our way to the Bor. We're moaning about how much of a pain it's going to be to haul our boards back and forth to the hotel every day as we walked with Tim into ‘Hunters’ a pub, restaurant and ski centre next to a place called the Chalet Iskar. Tim was hiring his gear from there and Chris, the man in charge, wasn’t slow in offering Stu and I board storage at 20 lev for the week. Boards ‘safe’ (see later!) we have a quick one in Hunter’s, meeting the owners of Chalet Iskar, Fraser and Sarah, who tell us everyone from the forums we use are up in the Alpina Bar so in due course meet people we've been chatting to for months and of course meet the Alpina owners Arie and Aimee who were fantastic to us all the whole week.

Arie and Aimee

Stu - It’s a great feeling when you walk into a pub and people start shouting out your name, especially when you’ve never met them before, all they’ve seen is a tiny avatar or a few photos. I know instantly that this is going to be a fantastic week.

We’d known for a while that a lot of people from both the skidvd and bulgariaski website forums were going to be here this week. In fact we’d booked this week deliberately because of that. The main event of the week was going to be a 'ski-a-thong' which was to be quite literally a man skiing in a thong to raise money for a local orphanage, but by the time the date rolled around people on both forums had really rallied to the cause had there was a weeks worth of events scheduled to raise money. The whole story and the aftermath are detailed elsewhere on skidvd and bulgariaski forums so I won’t go into it here, but at the time it was a gathering of people with a like mind. Ski or snowboard, drink and raise a few quid for a good cause!

Back in the Bor we catch up on all the gossip from our rep and pal Natalie, and in a weird reversal we don’t book any of the trips, bar crawls or pub quizzes, but she agrees to join us for our Poker night tomorrow!

Off to the Titanic Bar, via a food place called The Black Cat where we have another round of pizzas, Tim and I looking rather dubiously at Stu’s scary looking 'chilli surprise’. He’ll regret that later! In the Titanic Bar we meet many more internet buddies. It’s a busy night and the Titanic have agreed to donate some of the profits to the ski-a-thong collection, so we have a drink to that!

Much later, Tim grabs a taxi back to Samakov town as Stu and I make it, safely, back to the Bor where Stu starts banging the telly.

“There’s no porn on this!”

“WHAT!?”

Disappointed we end the day watching Family Guy in Bulgarian which gives us The Fear a bit.

Monday - Ring of Fire, Dead Horses and Late Night Poker

Up and awake at 8.30 as Tim breezes into the room, correctly assuming that we’ll sleep in again and doesn’t want to spend his holiday waiting for us.

Breakfast in the Bor, with Tim sneaking in as a resident. He then has a crisis of conscience and offers to pay the waiter for his soggy cakes and mystery meat. The waiter’s a bit taken aback but plucks the figure of 20 lev out the air to feed Tim for the week. Bargain.

Up the hill to the resort and Stu gets a few runs in at the Rila as Tim and I head for the gondola.

Stu - Damn this is icy. I head to Franco’s for a drink and wait for the sun to soften everything up a bit. After a day my bindings are feeling much better but I don’t fancy falling when it’s this hard. Luckily it thaws a bit and I have a few great wee runs.

Tim and I have a great morning over on the Markudjik side of the resort with a pile of the skiers and boarders we met last night in the Alpina and Titanic Bar, which is marred slightly by that elastic twang-you-up-the-mountain thing they call a poma. (Thankfully after this season it was replaced by a chairlift.) We then have an amazing run right from the summit down to gondola mid-station. The lower Yastabrets runs are all closed but I must admit I was very tempted to give them a go nonetheless. Fortunately I didn’t succumb to temptation … according to a few people who did, the snow ran out fairly quickly leaving a hell of a hike to the bottom. We gondola down to meet Stu instead.

Tim and I .. lunch after a busy morning.

We have lunch together and spend the afternoon on the Rila side, but as there’s not a lot of snow half of the runs are closed, clogging up the few runs that are remaining open. Earlier than we usually would, we leave the boards and skis in Hunters and Tim has his first ever ride in a horse taxi as we head back to the Bor. Tim tells us a story that on the taxi ride to Samakov Town last night he actually saw a horse being shot!

“WHAT!”

Tim - Seriously, we were driving past a paddock with a lot of men crowded round a horse, I looked away and heard a bang, looked back and it had crumpled to the ground. The taxi driver had a look, looked in the rear view mirror at me and said, ‘ah poor horse’.

We take a moment’s sad refection before the absurdity hits us and we start giggling. By the time we’re at the Bor, the guy was dressed as Shrek with a gun and a camera. Welcome to Bulgaria! 10 leva! You kill my horse! Smile! 10 leva!

Since my last visit to Bulgaria I have, with Tim, got into Poker in a serious way, so we decided that why should a week in a foreign country deny us our weekly fix? We’d arranged a game over the internet and had a few interested parties. One of the posters from the skidvd forums wanted to bring his 15 year old son and we stupidly agreed. Most of the night he wiped the floor with us!

All of us, including our rep Natalie, ended up having about five or six sit-and-go’s, short games low buy-ins and Stu was delighted to actually win one, having only just learned the game. The great thing about it was that everybody who won a game took their buy-in money back, bought a round of drinks and put the rest in the ski-a-thong charity box. No one was prompting this; it just happened so we not only had a great night, we raised a few lev. And to top it off, God Bless Aimee of the Alpina, who, after a night out with her pals (Arie stayed to play) came back to the game in her pub with an armful of kebabs for us!

Tim grabs a taxi back to Samakov and as we wander back to the Bor it steams past us as we hear him shout, “10 leva, you kill my horse, very good.”

Tuesday - The Surreal Morning and the missing board.

Tim gives us a slightly later alarm call than yesterday by walking into the room, gagging, and walking out again.

“This room smells of ass and death! Open the balcony window.”

In the words of Hunter S. Thompson "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro", and it only gets worse when we pass a locked door in the Bor with the sign, “Funny Game Room” and start to speculate what must be in there. It's either an old, old clown or a man with a horse and a gun. To top off the weirdness of the morning I order an omelette in the Happy Duck called ‘The Slave To Your Desire.’ Then it all gets a bit more serious.

I love my snowboard. I bought it in Borovets a few seasons back, to replace the one that now lives nailed to the roof of Franco’s because that one had it’s entire toe side edge ripped out during an exciting and painful few moments on mountain. I thought that I’d be better off buying, as I was going to be back out to Bulgaria later in the season and didn’t fancy paying for a hire board for both the remainder of this week and the next week I’d be out. Also I’d paid for the carriage, had a perfectly decent pair of bindings that had survived unscathed and really didn’t want to end up with a random scratched piece of wood that the hire guys might give me. I spent that afternoon a few seasons ago wandering round the equipment shops until I saw it. It was the right size, the right width, the right price and it had a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it. Ok, it was a few lev more than the right price, but it had a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it! A Tie Interceptor in fact! I’ve looked after it and treasured it ever since. This doesn’t go in the loft over the summer, it goes on the wall.

We’re still giggling about clowns as we saunter into Hunters to collect our gear. Only there’s a big empty gap between Stu’s board and Tim’s skis. Where my board should have been. My lovely board with a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars on it!

Chris from Hunters is nothing but sweetness and light as I have a major meltdown. We establish that no-one has been in here that he doesn’t know and the most probable scenario (and he turns out to be correct) is that a group taking lessons have come in here to be kitted out, and someone has lifted it, thinking it to be a hire board.

ARRRRRRGH. There are no numbers written on it, it has a pair of this season's Burton Mission bindings and a brand new leash/ski lock. It’s not a bloody hire board.

I go off with Chris to the hire depot at the Flora to get a replacement board for the day, and after making them sharpen it, wax it and adjust its bindings Stu and Tim have disappeared. I can’t blame them… I was in there for ages trying to find something decent that I could ride on, but never actually did. There’s a top tip, there really is no substitute for your own gear!

Tim’s off up the gondola having a brilliant day at the top of the mountain flying about off-piste and I’m messing around on the Rila slopes with a bit of wood that I just can’t get to grips with. It’s too small, too light and too crap to do anything with, so when I bump into Stu we have a half-hearted run or two then start drinking!

We head down to Hunters and there it is … my snowboard … looking at me as if to say, “what?” I rush to it, inspect it thoroughly and I’m happy to report it had survived it’s ordeal on another persons feet. It lives in a cupboard in Hunters from now on!

The board’s return perks me up a bit, so over a few drinks sitting outside Hunters I start to noise up Tim on the walkie-talkie as he makes his way down in the gondola. He’s in a packed gondola pod with five other people, and as in a lift with strangers, it’s silent. Except for me on the walkie-talkie. “Tim, I saw that dog Stu said he didn’t shag, but it really looked at him funny.” “How’s your ass by the way, feeling any better?”, and getting into the surreal spirit of the day, “The chicken has no claws, repeat the chicken has no claws.” And so on until he manages to get it out his back pack and switch it off.

A kip, a shower and a walk later, we’re in Katy’s having some of the best food you’ll ever get in Borovets, then on to Franco’s for the noisiest beer. We’re working up to our trip round to the Alpina Bar where tonight’s 'ski-a-thong' fundraiser, the Curry-Oke has been going on all night. The joint was jumping. Bob from the forums starts shouting, ‘There’s Only One Kaminitsa!’ to Stu (his name on the forums is Kaminitsa Stu) as we walk in, and I’m immediately handed the microphone to give Billy Ray Cyrus another good kicking. It’s a superb night with great songs from all the familiar faces from the forums and an American Pie duet we could have done without! We stumble out at stupid o’clock and Tim heads home, but Stu and I, with Bob and his wife Caroline, and a few other forumites head off to somewhere still open. I’m devastated to see that the “Obey the Big Sheep” sign is no more (See our 2006 report) It’s gone on to pastures new.

Wedensday – Pain, Poker and Grandma Hands.

We’re nursing varying degrees of hangovers this morning while sitting at Bar Joy next to the bottom of the gondola trying to order breakfast. Thing is, someone here has decided to name all the food after movies and TV shows but there’s no rhyme nor reason to it … should we have the X Files Toast or the Medal of Honour Burger? Maybe even simply cheese: peasant style? It’s actually not as bad as some menus I’ve seen, with, in no particular order, ‘Unknown Fish of the Pacific’, ‘Ant in a tree’, and the simply brilliant, ‘Plate of Spawn’.

After some Shindler’s List Bacon Rolls or something, we’re up top doing a few circuits down to the mid-station and back up again, but then Stu has a bit of a bad tumble.

Stu - I got a bit cocky heading down to the mid station and fell, badly bashing my coccyx on some ice which pretty much messed me up for the rest of the week. It’s my own fault for not bringing impact shorts, I did the same thing last year in Bansko, I have bruises on my inside leg, my arms, my hands, my feet are bleeding and blistered, my bum is sore. Oh and a little whiplash too. I head to Franco’s for beer and painkillers.

Tim and I meet up with Bob and Caroline and spend the rest of the day cruising around with them, filming each other and having a carry on.

Stu - In the afternoon I brave the lower Rila slopes again, taking it very easy for fear of pain, but the runs I have towards the end of the day are my best yet, the snow was soft and sugary from about half past 3 onwards and the slopes were nice and empty, I’m feeling much happier. The skiers seemed to be finding it a bit difficult, but the boarders were handling it fine.

I head off to the Apina Bar at 5pm feeling tired, but happy, and maybe a little sun burned, beer is probably the worst thing for me, but hey-ho its only 1 lev. It has been 12 degrees today and we really need more snow! I see Tim and TK walk past and bellow at them at such a high decibel level it almost blew the people over sitting at the surrounding tables!

Dinner and a quick kip and we’re back up in the Alpina for another game of poker. All the participants from the last one really wanted to do it again so we arrange it for 9pm tonight. True to form we turn up at 9.40.

Damn Mimi, the barmaid from the Alpina, is a mean player. And I don’t mean, ‘mean’ as in skilled, I mean, ‘mean’ as in downright nasty! She keeps getting up to serve some of the remaining customers and is quiet, petite and polite, but give her some cards and she’ll bet the pot, shouting, ‘So, what ya gonna DO?!’ at you… and the language!

Stu is getting the brunt of it as he’s the only player left in, and at long last they decided to split the winnings and we start another game. Arie has locked the Alpina doors by now, but at the last minute we’re joined by two guys from Israel who had seen us playing the other night and wanted in. The more the merrier.

The guys don’t speak much English, but they can play cards. One of them wins a bit pot and high fives his mate shouting "Waaaayne Rooooneeey!” Apparently they’d been watching the football the other night and people kept shouting this when there was a goal … they thought it was some sort of celebration … so of course we all start doing it when we win a hand. Stu, wins again (DAMN IT, he’s only just learned to play!) with trip Aces.

The overall winner has to be the beer, as we’re finding it hard to keep track of the game now. Mimi is moaning that she has old grandma hands (What, in a bag behind the bar?) and Tim tells a story about his own grandmother boiling her telephone in the soup. The cards and chips are abandoned as we drink and laugh into the early hours.

Thursday – Horse Taxi Smell and that fecking French tower.

More of the same today, with Stu sticking to the lower slopes, Tim and myself going up top for something a bit steeper. Stu’s still in a lot of pain from yesterday’s fall, but keeps at it and puts a few miles under his board, especially when we get a small dusting of snow.

Stu’s asleep in front of the TV when we get back, and we wake him up as we blunder in, but in a few minutes we’re all dozing whilst watching some Bulgarian pop channel. Up and out, via the chicken kebab stall, for tonight’s ski-a-thong quiz for which we turn up an hour early. We spend the extra time having a few in the Alpina then take some tasteful pictures of ourselves in front of, and interacting with, the huge sign behind Boni’s strip club.

An hour ago, the Silver Eagle, the venue for tonight’s quiz, was empty. Now it’s almost standing room only and we’re lucky to get a few seats together. We call ourselves, ‘Horse Taxi Smell’ and put up a great show, tying for first with the team made up of the owners of the Ski DVD website. I get nominated to answer a tie-breaker about the height of the Eiffel Tower … for some reason I thought its height had something to do with the year it opened, so I put 1889 ft. … almost doubling its size and ruining our chances, sorry guys.

All is forgiven as the guys buy me beer in the Alpina a bit later on, then take them away again after I get hold of the karaoke microphone. I thought Caroline and I did a fine job of Paradise by the Dashboard Light, but Stu wasn’t so sure. Tim heads back to Samakov Town as the Alpina closes but as Stu, myself and a few other forumites walk past Boni’s we all slip on the ice and fall in. Quick pint then.

On the walk back home we realise that for the first time on this holiday we’re bloody freezing. A day before we leave and the temperature has dropped like a stone … just in time for the ski-a-thong too.

Friday - Kilts, tights, thongs, oh my.

Tim bursts in and shouts that it’s snowing like mad at the top of the mountain, so I’m up and into a taxi before Stu could say, ‘shut up, I’m staying in bed!’

We have a few great runs before being herded off the mountain as the gondola shuts for the day, bugger!

It was the day of the ski-a-thong and I’d chucked my kilt into my backpack as an after-thought, but I honestly didn’t fancy a trip down the mountain in it, especially as a ‘true’ Scotsman, but what with the gondola closure and warm weather the event has been moved to one of the smaller Rila slopes. Tim and I have met up with Stu by this time and we’re having lunch with some of the other forum users on tables by the bottom of the run. I’m still internally debating about doing this, when at the next table I overhear a very young lad pleading with his parents to do the run in his pants. That’s all the inspiration I need, if he can do it, so can I! I de-salopette myself, get the kilt on, and subtly get out of everything underneath. Holy moly, this is going to be cold.

Stu - As TK gets his bits out in public, I look away, up at the run they’re going to use. There’s a race coming up and my blood boils when I realise that they have been using the snow cannons, but for the race and the race alone. The fact that they have the means to improve the conditions dramatically and they simply could not be bothered to flick a switch made me want to vomit blood.

I make my way to the bottom of the run and assemble with the other people in varying degrees of fancy dress and, well, un-dress. Unwittingly my naked ass gets filmed to turn up later that night on Bulgarian TV, and that’s a sentence I never thought I’d type.

Terrified of falling, I make my way with everyone over to the run. I get onto the poma safely, although someone later shows me evidence of a photographer pointing his camera up my kilt towards TK jnr. and the boys… hope he’d combed his hair. Banknote from Ski DVD and Pamporovo Pete from Bulgaria Ski are the stars of the hour as they do the run practically naked, although Banknote later revealed he had a Borat style ‘mankini’ with him that he backed out of, as it were.

At the top of the run I manage to sit down and strap in without losing anything to frostbite, and then make a very tentative run to the bottom! I did it! My last run of the holiday and it was in a kilt as a true and proper Scotsman. Superb, but I was back at home for a few weeks before I managed to coax it all back down again.

Stu - The ski-a-thong goes well with a good crowd turning out to see it. After they’ve all finished and it gets a bit quieter I have probably the best run of the week down the same slope, then head up again for some more. I realise after a while that everyone else has disappeared, so decide to head off towards the Alpina, but I finally feel as if something has finally clicked with the snowboarding. A combination of pain killers, beer and getting my bindings set up has made me improve a lot. I only wish this had happened on the second or third day. Head down to the bar and realise it’s getting very cold in the resort, the weather looks as if it’s changing. Typical! We all fly home tomorrow. We were all at the tables outside having a laugh and a few beers but there’s not a soul to be seen anywhere outside the vicinity of the pub giving Borovets a true end of season feel.

A few hours later, and I’m still in my kilt as we head off to the Silver Eagle for the charity auction and the presentation evening. It looks like it’s going to take a while to get going and the three of us, by now, are starving. Someone recommends a place called 'Blue' for food so we head off as it’s just round the corner. None of us have been in before but the place looks great inside and the plates passing us as they’re being served look pretty spectacular. We wait a while for a table and are given a few drinks on the house as we drool over everyone else’s food.

Tim has eaten a few steaks in his life, and we’re talking about a man who has lived for a while in Paris, but today, if you ask him about his top two or three best steaks ever, that one he had in ‘Blue’ will be up there. Maybe even at number one. We eventually get a table and get food, and my God, go there! In past reports (and earlier on in this one) I’ve mentioned Katy’s as some of the best food you’ll get in Borovets … from this moment on ‘Blue’ is a valid competitor. I cannot believe I’ve been in Borovets so many times and someone hasn’t held me down and insisted I go there. I’ve walked past it so many times. So, go to ‘Blue’. I insist. It’s on the same street as Franco’s, but further up on the right hand side (walking from the Rila end) and, eh, it’s blue.

Belly’s full, we have a very contented saunter back to the Silver Eagle and I’m immediately auctioned off … well, a look up my kilt is … and I’m well chuffed that it went for 45lev! I get on a table for display to the winners, and then sign the items I’d donated to the auction, dedicating them to the winner, but eventually decide I’d had enough of this bloody kilt. My waistband has expanded a bit after my meal in Blue, but the kilt is steadfast. I’m essentially wearing a skin-tight woollen waistband so spend a few lev jumping in a cab, jumping into a pair of jeans and jumping back again.

Stu - Just as TK disappears Amanda hands out thank you cards made by the kids at the orphanage and I have to accept his for him as he's now back at the Bor getting changed.

Thank you Stu, and thank you Amanda. No matter what has happened in the interim, I still treasure that card. I’m back in oh so comfy jeans as a cheque for around 11,000 euros (let me say that again, eleven thousand euros!!) was presented to Amanda. There are heartfelt thanks and tears all round as Aimee informs us that the Alpina Bar is staying open for us, so we dive in and drag out the Karaoke machine.

Tim is off back home early in the morning, so I wander round the resort with him, visiting a few of his favourite bars, returning to the Alpina for Stu at silly o’clock in the morning. We start to say our goodbyes to everyone from the forums (in case we don’t get a chance tomorrow) as Tim gets a taxi back to Samokov Town for the last time. Stu and I are teary as he departs and shoot a horse or two in his honour.

Saturday – Last-day-itus, embarrassment at Sophia and the usual long brutal trip home.

Last night we great intentions of waking up early and getting a half day pass. By the time we wake up it’s 11.30 and reception have phoned the room telling us to get out.

Bye Borovets!

Another year gone.

We have a quick bite in the Alpina, do the usual ‘last day’ stuff, then board a bus for the airport. We’re rushed through security and then told we can’t smoke in Departures or get back out. I go off to find a quiet corner without CCTV and set fire to a mouthful of fags.

Stu - I’m really pretty much done in at this point, my energy levels are gone, my muscles hurt and the adrenalin supplies are shot. I keep telling myself I desperately don’t want to be here, I just want to be at home in my own bed. The thought of all the travelling still to be done was seriously taking its toll and grinding me down. I feel on the verge of mental collapse. As I step through the security scanners, people suddenly spring into action, my bag is being raked through. They find a walkie-talkie that looks like a detonator and an 'on hill' mini screwdriver that looks like a small gun. Boy was my face red!

The three hour flight back home is a bit bumpy and Manchester really feels freezing cold by comparison to Bulgaria. We feel weird, uncomfortable, and really desperate to get home. Trouble is, there’s a drive back to Scotland to come. It’s every bit as brutal as expected but we eventually get home, after lots of coffee red bull stops at around 6 in the morning, both hallucinating from tiredness and looking forward to a long, a very, very long rest.

Same time next year then.

NOTES

Tim's work can be seen at http://www.timsandys.com/

Amiee and Arie aren't running the Alpina now. In 2010 they were still in Borovets running the upper floor of Franco's, but now in 2011 they've moved on, with hopefully a return to form next year.

If you post on Ski DVD or Bulgaria Ski you may know some of these names, thanks to Banknote, Loose Channge, Steve C, howdoyoustop, Tiger Tim, eyeballto, Bibblybobs, Tuftyduck, nightmuffy, Pamporovo Pete and everyone else there that week for making it such a laugh.

Bansko 2007

2010-01-04T09:16:00.000-08:00

Time for a change, so this year we're in Bansko. Once again thanks to Stu for keeping note of everything, his comments are in italics.

Saturday - An evening with puppets.

All change this year indeed, the first being that we're not going to Manchester, in fact we're not leaving Scotland at all, just heading across to Edinburgh in the morning.

Also, instead of getting the Bulgarian flu, Stu has instead already got a Scottish version that he's taking over with him. I drive across for him, and I notice his green hair. He's got green hair. We grab some supplies in a supermarket, then back to mine for a few beers and Team America (because we'd first seen it in Zac's bar, Borovets two years ago) then Borat to get into the Eastern European mood. The holiday has officially begun. And Stu has green hair.

Sunday – A shock at Plovdiv, weird cheeseburgers and an encounter with the Balkan Horn

Up and awake about 7.30am and Stu is blowing snot everywhere, although it's not the only thing that's green. Did I mention he has green hair?

He's dyed it for the holiday and it looks fantastic, but he's getting some looks! He downs a few beers in Edinburgh to calm his nerves. The flight stops off in Newcastle on the way to Plovdiv so we’re barely in the air before we come down again, meaning the fasten seat belt lights are off for a nano-second. It’s Stu’s turn to be bursting for pee, but this time we can’t ask the driver to pull over. His bladder almost exploded during the descent into Newcastle but just, just managed to hold on.

We land on the first attempt this year,only 2 hours and 50 minutes after leaving Newcastle, but we still felt like keeping up the tradition of buying a mini vodka from that wee shop in Plovdiv Airport for the transfer. We were on the verge of tears as we discover it's closed! Disaster.

One hour into the three hour transfer we stop at a petrol station with an attached mini-mart, and things improve dramatically. Stu comes back grinning with a bottle of something clear with what I’m sure is a Government Health Warning on it.

“Stu, what’s Bulgarian for ‘go blind’?”

“Nastravi!”

I have a tiny shot of it from the lid and immediately stagger back, almost into the road as a huge bus steams past. It beeps and we notice it's from a company called ‘The Balkan Horn’ and as fans of Derek and Clive, this cracks us up.

A few shots later and we're another hour into the journey. This time the stop is in the middle of nowhere, just a toilet and some stray dogs. I go off and share my crisps with them as Stu chills the bottle of 'scary' in a small patch of snow. The first snow we've seen so far in fact. It's a topic on everyone’s lips, the worrying snow reports and web cam images of the past few weeks, we'll just have to pray that the snow gods like us.

Green hair and sore back

The only good news we get is from the rep, and that’s just to point out a typo in our welcome packs. We pick up our lift passes in the Happy End at 8.30am, not 6.30am as we’d just read. We both say, ‘thank fuck!’ at this, then immediately feel really bad when we realise there’s a small kid within earshot. Then feel better when we arrive, as his dad stands up, bangs his head, and says something that shocked even us.

Hotel Mura and hairy man

Stu now does something remarkable as we arrive and check into the Mura. He picks up the wrong case and walks upstairs with it, next to someone else from the bus, who, to be fair, has been drinking a lot more than us. This guy gets to his room, says thanks to Stu, takes the case off him and disappears through the door. Stu stands there for a moment, thinking this guy has just done the most audacious bit of luggage snatching, then realises what he’s done and belts back down to reception where luckily his own case is still sitting. I’m already in the shower, and still laughing, when he gets in.

"GOOD EVENING BANSKO!" Washed, changed, and a few welcome drinks to the better we hit the town. Arriving a bit addled in a foreign country is hard on the nerves at the best of times, but especially so when it’s very quiet with no apparent signs of life. Anywhere. We wander about looking up dark streets. After Borovets, the size of Bansko takes a bit of getting used to.

It’s an actual town. I don’t know why that surprised us, but it did. Borovets is pub, pub, strip joint, pub, hotel, restaurant, pub. This is street after street of darkness. We eventually find signs of life but it’s all a bit low key. There was no welcome meal so we were starving and eventually found a food stall with lights on. We asked for what we thought was a cheeseburger each, but what we got was two toasted buns with cheese. This place will take a bit of getting used to.

First impressions seem a little negative. Where is everything! Pubs? Food?

Monday - A missing snowboarder, giant purple cows and the aptly named Amnesia bar

Up with a jump and a song at 7.30....no hold on reverse that. We’re a bit worse for wear, so it’s more of a fall out of bed than a jump and really more of a groan than a song. Got our stuff together, missed breakfast (a recurring theme) and headed down to the lobby to catch the 8.30 bus which we missed too.

A taxi gets us to the Happy End where we meet our reps and get our lift passes, then we nip round the corner to find breakfast. We get a hot dog stall and a coffee kiosk. That'll do fine. The first proper food we’ve had in 24 hours or so and the coffee was like rocket fuel. We've perked right up, in fact thanks to the coffee we’re wired to the moon, so we head straight up the hill. There are no queues whatsoever, as we’ve been expecting from reading the forums on skidvd and bulgariaski, so we surprisingly walk straight on and get a pod to ourselves.

When we get out at the other side Stu is jumped on by a big green frog, the last thing you want to see at that time of the morning, especially wandering around hugging people. Apparently Stu’s green hair had attracted it. Like a red rag to a bull, green hair to a frog.

Stu found his group and I hung around in the background, warming up on the small green run they were using. We arranged to meet at 12 back at the gondola as I head off to find something a bit steeper.

Stu - After a few runs my instructor moved me up into the intermediate group. I was starting to find my snowboarding legs again, mind you the front-side 9's will have to wait till the end of the week (cough). We were heading onto the chair lift when I spotted TK finishing the blue run beside it but he didn’t hear me shouting or spot me waving frantically at him. We go for a run down the same blue run that TK had just completed and half way down our instructor spots a natural hit and goes for a jump over it. The only thing I saw after his board left it was a flurry of snow and two ski's flying through the air. He’d hit a kid who had stopped and was resting on the blind side of it ... thankfully he was perfectly fine, but we take this to mean we’re having a lunch break now.

Where the fuck is he?

Stu - Ah this is what life is all about, snowboarding with a nice group of people from all corners of the earth, bright sunshine, beers, and a really good laugh.

Seriously, where is he?

Stu - We eventually called it a day at 2.15 even though the group was supposed to end at 12. I headed down the gondola and I suddenly developed a weird fascination with the big inflatable pink Milka cow tethered outside the Grand Kemprinski hotel, as we find out later.

If he’s fallen and hurt himself I’ll kill him.

Stu - Headed back to the hotel at around 4.30 as TK was getting ready to call mountain rescue. He really thought I had fallen off the mountain or had been attacked by a bear and that I would be heading home in a shoe box. I’ve never seen anyone look so relieved. Feeling guilty for about 0.5 seconds, I headed to bed for a wee sleep.

Git!

All told we’ve actually both had a great first days riding, which in our experience is always a good thing, as Stu says, if you have a bad first day it can colour the rest of the week (see the report from Borovets 2005). We attend the welcome meeting at the Hotel Bansko and book both the pub crawl and the pizza ‘n’ party night; unfortunately this meant Stu couldn’t meet his snowboarding group for their very own pub crawl tonight, hopefully another night though.

Stu - Nope, never saw them again!

Dinner tonight was in the Mura restaurant, chicken burger with really weird chips, then out for the pub crawl. Another major difference with Borovets and Pamporovo is that you need a bus to do this. First stop is the Happy End and find the free glass of wine rather disgusting. We set the tone by having a few beers instead. We wrote our names down on paper, which was challenging enough, and handed them to Lou “How do you do” our rep from down Newcastle way.

We all stood up on a chair and introduced ourselves to each other, and then Lou gathered us round a big log. Turns out that this is the first game, a race to see who could hammer a nail into a tree stump the quickest. Yup that’s correct, hammering a nail into a log. Stu lost to a Dutch guy. We had another beer or two while others played at arm wrestling down the other end of the pub, the winner got a free shot and a sore arm.

In the unknown Mehana

We get bussed to the second pub, the Friendly Bar, a lovely place with a good acoustic band on called the Snowdogs, another free drink then a few beers again, obviously. More games with Stu trying to tell me the names of songs with a mouthful of ice cubes. Didn't have a clue. Stu's very disappointed as he says he usually talks like that when pissed.

Bus again to the Lion Bar, where outside three people play Kamenitza Russian roulette. Three cans are taken away, one shaken violently, then the three players have to open their chosen can directly under their face. A few of us manage to get wet, and then head inside. Damn it’s busy. With Sky Sports and what looks like a Brits abroad menu, it’s a popular pub. I’m not knocking it, we ate and drank there a few times during the week, but it's not what you'd call ethnic.

Back on the pub crawl and onto pub four (and neither of us can remember the name). This was a more traditional Mehana, and empty except for the staff and us. We were split into two teams, table 1 and table 2 and had various contests, mainly involving dancing. We get involved in a conga type thing around the pub and out into the street. Then back to the bus.

..thinking I can dance.

We disembark and we hit (almost literally) the fifth place called "Amnesia". Another few drinks and I start to think I can dance… time to call it a night. We’re a few sheets to the wind as we walk out of Amnesia and through the town square. Stu thinks it’d be a great photo opportunity if I have carnal relations with the big rock, fountain thing. At that point in time I thought it a capital idea. Of course I fell off, got very wet, and Stu, gawd bless him, took photos.

I'll just sleep here.

Tuesday - Ignorant skiers, bad leg burn, more liver punishment and a lack of patience.

Stu - Thank goodness I’m writing all this down as neither of us can remember much from last night, and TK is still in bed gibbering. My call of "Oi, you coming out today?" was met with something incoherent of which I made out the word ‘later’. I jumped onto the bus, well slumped really, and headed up to the gondola. Got off the other end at 9.30 and I couldn’t find my snowboarding group. Also, there’s no green frog today, which is nice, but just as I’m relaxing fucking Spiderman jumps out at me.

By the way, the green frog and Spiderman and various other outfits are worn by guys who wander round so you can have photos taken with them, photos that they later try and sell you ... they do it at Borovets too. So, no, these were not random hallucinations we were having.

Not happy. My group are nowhere to be seen. I was supposed to meet them last night but it conflicted with the Balkan pub crawl, but damn it I had forgotten to ask them where and when for this morning. I’ll stay around here, near the gondola station, and keep my eyes peeled.

Boarder without a group

I muster up the energy for a warm up run down the green near the gondola but as I stand waiting, skiers are trying to shove me out of the way to get to the poma lift even though I’m next in line. Am I invisible or something? Get your god dam skis off my board before I rip your spleen out. I really don’t mind at all that you’re scratching my top sheet. Now both TK and I can ski …
Shush!

… but the arrogance of these people. Just as bad at the top as they stand in front of me as I try to start riding. This is turning out to be a really bad morning, and the old leg burn is starting to make itself felt, so I head back down to get food and find TK.

Via the walkie talkies Stu finds me in the Lion bar having a pick-me-up. Climbing fountains aside, I wasn't that bad last night but my head has other ideas. Stu eventually talks me into going up the gondola though, for lunch at the top. Sausage and cold chips, and it costs a fortune, but it works wonders. We have a few runs until Stu's legs start hurting and I start swearing at my bindings.

Stu goes off down the gondola and I race him on the ski road which is board-able but icy. I come a cropper on a fast wee bit and bang down hard, thank goodness I’ve bought a helmet this year. Still smarts a bit though. I tenderly make it to the bottom in one piece, meet up with Stu and we go binding shopping. I’ve just bought a new set of Flow’s and I’m having no end of problems with them. My last set were fine but getting past it, but this set just never seem to feel right. In the shops, the bindings are all either plastic rubbish or too expensive, so I reluctantly decide to leave it and soldier on with them. Really envy Stu who had problems with Flow bindings of his own on a trip to Glencoe and ‘flung them to hell’ as he says. Flow step-in bindings, you either love them or hate them.

Back for a quick snooze, and head out for dinner up town. We find Amigos bar, which was to become our local as we both think it reminds us a bit of Franco's in Borovets. Have a pizza and a few beers, then onto Friendly’s, for a stupidly expensive vodka red bull or two (tip, always ask for local Vodka in there or you’ll get the imported expensive stuff). Happy End bar is closed, so finish the night in the Lion.

Stu’s throat is getting very sore, a combination of flu, smoke and shouting above music, so we head home for our early night, at 4am!

Wednesday - Fire, gambling, and weird hot dogs

In a reverse of yesterday I’m off and out while Stu rests his throat, legs and other sore bits. Get breakfast and hit the slopes, but the lack of snow is having a real effect by now. More icy patches than snow, so I spend most of the day on the blue run that goes 6, 4 and 1 on the piste map. It’s in the shade, has snow cannons, and is the only decent run still operating, so it gets a bit busy too.

The open run!

Meet up with some of the Dutch people from the pub crawl and have, surprisingly enough, a moderately priced and very tasty meal up the mountain, a slice of pizza from a kiosk outside one of the pubs, near the big yellow prefab pub.

Cheap Pizza's to the right ...

The sun is shining, had a few great runs and I’m well fed. Is nice. Take the ski road back down and have a nice run, interrupted only by a bloody text message from work!

We went for dinner at the Ethno Restaurant tonight. ‘Weird Blanket Man’, (as Stu dubbed him), who stands outside, has enticed us in. We get chatting to him and he’s a really nice guy, and the food’s not bad too. We had barbecued pork and barbecued stuffed chicken with veal, bacon and cheese, with mashed potatoes mixed with herbs and feta cheese. Great stuff... we waited a while for it, but it was worth it. The music was a bit grating after a while, but it was full of locals which is always a good sign. Nice hot wine too.

Off to Amigos and the bar staff are in a frisky mood. We let them choose our drinks for a few rounds, and they always seemed to involve noise and fire. Some ungodly cocktails that come with instructions. “Ok, when I blow the whistle he’ll light it, then you put in the straw and start drinking” What?! As we started drinking out of the glass, which was now on fire, the barman poured in a huge shot of Bailey’s. Very nice, and strong as hell! Gawd bless Bulgaria.

Amigo's Barmen

The barman then poured lighter fluid in a trench along the bar and set it on fire and he lit cigarettes with a can of hairspray he ignited. We loved it.

Then there was the gambling with the customers… and of course we had a go. The way it works is that whoever rolls the highest number from 2 dice loses and buys the shots. The barman lost 3 times and we got 3 free shots! But you always quit when you’re ahead.

Go back via the place we’d bought food from on the first night, and ask very clearly for a ‘Hot Dog’. We get a toasted roll with salad and peas! Peas! Who puts peas in a roll? Wander back to the hotel around 1 a.m., debating if they’re taking the piss.

Thursday - A lifties wrath and pasta la pizza baby.

Still no fresh snow, and one thing we’ve noticed, no maid service to speak of yet this week. We’re running out of toilet roll and there’s a big mucky patch near the door where we’ve been leaving our boots (another side effect from the lack of snow). The sun is shining again today, and the wind has really picked up.

Breakfast in the hotel is the typical Bulgarian fare… sausage with the texture of cake, weird cold meats and cheeses. We have lots of coffee and fruit juice. Stu’s not looking his best this morning as we get the bus up to the Happy End, then the gondola to the top. He wants to have another coffee and while in one of the pubs up the mountain he disappears to be noisily ill in the toilet a few times. He’s not feeling too perky at all, but wants to carry on boarding that wee green for a bit.

Reassured that he's going to be okay I leave Stu to the queue jumpers on the green and head off to explore. I take a chairlift up, and then get in another which has a pull down Perspex bubble … (for lighting cigarettes in the wind I assume!) The views are incredible but it’s all rocks and tree stumps. The big blue at the top is a solid ice mogul field that I have a bit of difficulty navigating, so I make my way back down again on the chair. It’s a hairy trip as I’m not the best with heights and I’m facing the wrong way, i.e. down the hill, but I hold on and shut my eyes.

I join Stu again at the bottom and have a go at adjusting his bindings, then go up the green with him to see if there’s an improvement. Whilst in the queue, a little scamp on skis keeps trying to get past me. I tell him a number of times that there’s a queue, but at the corner he slips on by, only to be grabbed by the liftie and have a few strips torn off. Very satisfying.

Tinkering

Stu - The binding adjustment seems to have helped and I have a few good runs before the batteries in my mp3 player pack in. We decide to call it a day and start off down the ski road. Unfortunately, the old leg burn kicks in, so I turn back and walk to the gondola. I’ve lost TK as the last I saw was him flying down it, carving like a demon and trying to light a cigarette at the same time (he makes it look so easy). We meet at the bottom and head to the Happy End for a beer, and then I decide to box the udders of the Milka cow for a while. TK takes photos and we notice clouds creeping in which we hope is a good sign.

Green haired udder boxer

After a wee kip we head out again for the Balkan quiz in Amigos. We’ve miss-timed and are an hour early, but no matter. Pasta la Pizza baby becomes the war cry of the quiz as we have a pizza and get many questions wrong. Our consolation prize is Lou signing some Tom Jones songs (apparently what he used to do before becoming a rep). We get talked into some shots by the barman, but head home before it starts getting silly. But only just!

Friday – A cow gets violated, terror on the gondola and a rubber dildo

Get some hot dogs and strong coffee inside us for the trip up the gondola late next morning. On the way up something weird happens. I stand up to get something out my backpack and Stu shouts something. Apparently the wire had lost a bit of tension and we dropped about 6 feet. Stu nearly shat himself, but I missed the whole thing because I was moving around.

It’s very icy down at the bottom of the mountain, so after just one or two wee warm runs up we head for Blue 6. At the top we watch people tackling the top of the bone rattling black run, The Tomba. There must be a race coming up as they’re building a grandstand at the bottom, and grooming it a bit more than usual. We play around a lot, having a lot of gentle runs down blue 6 and the surrounding runs and having a nice relaxing morning. Back to that pizza stall for lunch then do the same in the afternoon. Again, we split up for the trip down, me taking the road, Stu the gondola.

Ski buses at the Happy End

Meet at the Happy End for a drink and some food, and then on leaving Stu decides he needs a photo of him trying to shag the big Milka cow. Yes, he was trying to climb the cow so we could get a photo of him taking it from behind. He’s had around half a pint all day too. Back to the hotel, but not before he bursts his back pack trying to climb it one last time!

Stu’s still not well, what with the head cold and trying to hump inflatables, so he heads off for a nap. I go downstairs into the Mura’s health centre for a massage and a long dip in the Jacuzzi. Bliss.

This is the 26th day so far without snow. Borovets and Pamporovo are apparently worse off than Bansko, so I suppose we are lucky in a way, but it’s still heartbreaking only having a small part of the resort to play on. But as we head out for the night, we can feel immediately that the temperature has dropped a lot and it was starting to get very, very windy. Hopefully a good sign.
(Turns out it was, but not for us. The snowfall happened about a week later and went on for so long that Balkan extended their season for another fortnight. Been a weird year like that all over Europe apparently.)

The Happy End is a lot busier tonight, with a band on, and lots of people up dancing. There are also some dancers in cages. We try to look at the female ones whilst ignoring the guys.

Off down to Amigo’s for more fiery drinks, where we find an ice cube fight going on, and a rubber dildo being passed around the female drinkers, who could suck it for a free drink. Loud music, laughs and at one point a boat horn. There’s a conga line going in and out of the pub, and a microphone is being passed around so we can join in with the songs being played. This place can be weird, but what an atmosphere. On leaving at silly o'clock in the morning we find a crepe stall! Where have you been all week!

Saturday to Sunday - The near ruination of a wedding, Ugly scenes at plovdiv airport

Despite last night’s shenanigans, we’re up and raring to go for our last day on the slopes, having a coffee in the Mura waiting for the 10.30 ski bus. We’re wondering why no-one else is in ski or board gear just as we’re told that last night a tree blew over onto the gondola wire, knocking it out of action for a day. We toy with the idea of getting a taxi up, but every driver we ask quotes something like 50lev each way, with no guarantee that the chairs and buttons will be operational.

We give up and retire the boards for another year, then wander up town for a bite to eat. The Milka cow has either blown away, burst or been taken down … either way, Stu is gutted. Ah, holiday romance.

We have a respectful look around the heritage centre in the centre of the old town and take some arty photos of the wood sculptures in the garden, then some funny ones of us pretending to use the wooden toilet.

Blearghh

We then have a look round the church, mingling with some tourists who seem rather well dressed. Fuck, we’ve wandered into a wedding. We high tail it out, and meet the bride coming in!

The Holy Trinity Church in Bansko ... they do weddings

Get some really angry looks, but also get out alive, so there’s a bonus. Head to the Happy End and meet some skiers who managed to get up the hill. One guy has really ripped salopetes, his arm in a sling and a large bandage on his face. Looks like he had a fight with a tree, and the tree won. We’re quite glad we didn’t make it up today now.

The transfer bus leaves at 4 in the morning, so not much point in going to bed. We visit the Lion Bar and Amigo's one last time before boarding for the three and a half hour ride to Plovdiv.

We get there and find that the plane is broke! A four hour delay due to technical problems. The airport staff open the doors so we can lounge on the grass outside and spend time sunbathing (it’s January!)

Sunbathing at Plovdiv

Then we have one of those annoying situations where the story keeps changing and the time keeps stretching out. The plane can’t be fixed so we’re getting you a new one, it’ll be here in an hour, in two hours, next week. You can use the 2 p.m. flight, no that one is going to Manchester. People were getting restless and some people were screaming down the phones to reps.

Talking to some people at the airport it seemed that even though we had problems with the snow conditions and therefore didn’t get much riding in, it was certainly more than people in Borovets and especially Pamporovo. We're lucky we got any riding in at all.

The Manchester flight comes in and the engineers set about it, comparing it to our broken plane. The people are arriving from the resorts to get on this plane back to Manchester but they make them wait for our plane that’s coming from London and divert this one to Humberside/Edinburgh. Finally we’re going home. Delay was somewhere between six and seven hours. Not the longest in the world (see Pamporovo report from 2004!) but damn annoying and typical of this week. Finally get to Edinburgh at 7 p.m. Absolutely shattered!

NOTES

Had this been out first time travelling to Bulgaria I doubt if I'd gone back and can really see where people who moan and complain on all the Bulgaria forums are coming from. The snow conditions were terrible, but as I've said we were lucky in comparison to some. Still a very meagre selection of runs to chose from.

Bansko's got a really great ski area, but I've still to sample it all ... it must have had a certain something though, as I'm heading back out in March 2010 ... I'll let you know what happens!

Borovets 2006

2010-01-04T09:15:00.000-08:00

Part 1

2006 was a great year. I managed to get away to Borovets twice, once in January and secondly in March with the stalwart that is Stu.

In January I stayed in the Bor, a hotel that's about a ten minute walk up into the centre of town, and other than it's slightly out of the way location there's nothing to fault it. I stayed there again in 2008 and you can read more about it in that year's report. One great thing about it though is the fountain (or rather fountains) outside which freeze over in winter and create something rather wonderful ...

The frozen fountains at the Bor

In January I didn't keep a diary as it was mainly a training trip. I was out there to get some serious miles under my board as I had an ASSI instructors course in a few weeks. I enlisted the help of Bobby Turbo (the camera-man from last year) to, well, basically to punish me and film it!

He did. I don't think I've been fitter than I got that week. "The gondola's only going to mid-station but it's no problem, we can hike the rest" or "that slope over there will be empty ... we can probably walk to it in about an hour!" What!? At the time I was a wreck, trudging up hill with only the thought that one day this will be a long time ago and I'll be writing about it on the internet, and wondering why this Bulgarian man hated me.

We just walked up this!

He didn't. He was right every time. His instruction was minimal, but spot on and saw that all I needed were a few tweaks, one at a time, and my boarding would come on in leaps and bounds. He was right about the locations too, as remote as they were. The footage is incredible, especially the day of the hike up from mid-station as the powder was beautiful and I actually started to think I was becoming a semi-decent snowboarder. Looking at it now I realise just how wobbly it looks, how much I was on my back leg and I'm horrified that I didn't have a helmet on!

There were four sequences shot, three of which are below. One was from the top of the Markudjik runs down to the bottom of the Musala Pathway and the rest on various Yastrebetz runs. The video at the top is an edit of them all (details at the end) and the rest are as described.

This video is the powder we hiked for miles to get. It was worth it, although someone beat us to it and we were second rather than 'first tracks'. Bear with it as my confidence builds up as the run goes on.

Next is a collection of early morning and late afternoon shots, mainly on the Yastrebets side of the resort.

And finally, more of the same. One part of me likes how fast I was going, another is shocked that I've not got a helmet on!

It was whilst filming the section on the Markudjik side of the resort that I took one hell of a tumble. The board whipped out from underneath me and I whacked the back of my head off the slope ... I really saw stars, and from then on I've never so looked at a board without my helmet. It's a bit like bolting the barn door after the horse has whacked you on the head with a baseball bat, but I was lucky. No lasting damage to speak of and and I'm a lot safer these days.

If you are really, really eagle eye'd you may have spotted something in the video at the top of this blog entry. My board keeps changing! It's mixed footage from the whole week, but halfway through the holiday I had a little accident that means I'll always have a presence in Borovets.

At some point I caught an edge. REALLY caught an edge. So much so that the metal around the edge had ripped itself from the board. Only a tiny bit to start with, but as the day wore it got worse and worse until, by 2pm on the Wednesday, the board had effectively torn itself apart.

Repair was out of the question as it had destroyed a part of the base, and to be honest, it was ready for the scrap heap before I'd even left Scotland, so time to retire the old war horse. I took it into Francos to show Tommy (the barman at the time, now bar manager, and good pal) who took one look and decided it needed a proper home. He nailed it to the roof!

The roof in Franco's Bar

As of 2013, I'm happy to say that it's still there, bearing my signature and the legend 'Rest in Pieces' from 2006! I got a new board that week in the resort that'll you'll hear more about in next year's report.

At the end of this week I did the Sofia tour and transfer which means instead of milling around the resort on the last day you get to see some of Bulgaria's capital city. It's worth it if you don't fancy shelling out for a day pass to get one last day of skiing or boarding in, although I went to a B-B-Q fast food place, got some dodgy chicken and went on an involuntary liquid loss diet for the next few days! Still the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral was nice by night.

Sofia by Night

That's really all there is to report from my first visit to Borovets in 2006. I managed to get my ASSI instructors certificate not long after. As a training week, it was brilliant, but there were limited nights on the town so by way of correcting this, lets jump forward a month or so and I'm on my way to get Stu ... (again, his comments are in italics.)

Part 2

Saturday – Waiter, there’s a fly on my everything! That’ll be £12.60 Sir.

It’s almost time to leave, but we have a problem. We were supposed to be driving down to Manchester Airport but 3 days ago something big and important broke in my car and National Express got a call. We had two choices, arrive at 4am and have a ten hour wait for the flight, or arrive the night before, stay in a hotel, and get to the airport fresh and raring to go. We opt for the night in a hotel.

Bus leaves around 3.15 in the afternoon and we find ourselves sitting between two lots of football supporters drinking rather heavily and shouting over our heads to each other. It’s noisy, hot, cramped and keeps stopping every hour or so at Hamilton, Carlisle, Bolton … this hotel tonight better have a bar!

Finally get to Manchester Airport, happy to be off one bus, and well annoyed that we missed the next, the free bus to the hotel. Hail a cab and get charged £12! We just travelled from Scotland for that amount! … this hotel really better have a bar!

Head down for dinner in the hotel of chips and burgers, which turned out just as you’d expect, but when I tipped up the vinegar bottle to pour on my chips, there was a splash of small black bits. I thought they were herbs or something but Stu stopped me as my fork hovering at my mouth. Turns out they were dozens of tiny dead flies that had poured out over my food! No apology, just another plate of chips summoned from the kitchen. Well, really! We need that bar, now!

We find it, but there’s a noisy party full of salesmen next door, all dinner suits and ‘my company car is bigger than yours’. Don’t worry, we say, in 24 hours we’ll be in a pub full of boarders and skiers, looking out at the snow, and the passer by’s, falling gently in the street. We had a few beers and decided to call it a night, then again, then again about 2 in the morning. The salesmen are now our best pals in the world. We must get to bed … right one spirit then, yes we’re on holiday. We have large vodkas … they were £6.30 each! And some say the prices in Borovets are criminal! Next time, we'll do the ten hour wait!

Sunday - Terminal confusion, terror and relief.

Woke up a little hung-over (what happened to fresh and raring to go!) and we both decided to skip breakfast, as we couldn’t take more insects. After a bit of heaving, running and free bussing, we’re back at the airport again, and present ourselves at Terminal 3 … and there’s no check in desk. It’s actually at Terminal 2, where we needed to be five minutes ago. We run the hundred thousand miles between terminals with board bags, backpacks and boot bags bouncing off our legs, walls, doors and small children. We’re hysterical when we get to the right place, get checked in, get through security, get fast food and get sat down.

We realise as we board the plane that exactly one year ago today, almost to the minute, we were just BACK from Borovets, tired and looking forward to going back again. The flight is fine, nice and relaxed with our first taste in exactly a year of the sublime Bulgarian lager, Kaminitsa although it’s not the same out of a small can ... but won’t be long now until we land and get a proper pint. Famous last words.

Things started to get a little bouncy on the approach to Sofia. There was some rough turbulence on our descent, and by the time we got close to the airport the plane was bouncing all over the place. Some of the people on board were cheering and waving their arms. There was a thump and all hilarity stopped. Dead.

Stu - By this point I was chalk white and it didn’t help when Robert drew my attention to outside the window. For some unknown reason lots of fires were scattered all over the place at ground level. I think it must have been people burning crops and such things. "Must be the five o'clock flight," he said.

Our pilot attempted to land at Sofia not once but twice with the plane being tossed around like it was in the hands of a toddler. The wind won this particular fight as the pilot gave up and flew on to the next airport, Plovdiv.

Stu - I’m never going abroad ever again. Ever.

Plovdiv airport is an old military airstrip. It’s got a little better over the years, but at the time it was basically a shed and some tarmac. For some reason the guards there decided to put every item of baggage through a big slow scanner, one by one, as the queue grew and grew. As we waited we got chatting to an English couple on their first trip over, and proceed to indoctrinate them in the way of the snowboarder. Sensing an opportunity, the proprietor of the wee kiosk in the airport foyer hastily threw open his shutters, and moments later Stu comes back with a big grin a few small bottles of vodka. I go back for some bottles of coke and we turn what could have been a long boring wait into a wee party.

Eventually the buses and harried reps arrive from Sofia and after a few moments of confused mayhem, we're on our way to Borovets. By now we're having a really good laugh, thanks to the other people on the bus and a bit of vodka, but then a problem arises. I was bursting for a pee! There’s no loo on this bus, this is going to be a longer transfer than we had anticipated and there’s no stops scheduled into it as everyone, the drivers, the reps and the holiday makers all want to get to the resort as quickly as possible.

Stu - Argh, don't do it!

I have to! Despite Stu's embarrassment, I need to take matters into my own hands. I walk up the full bus and ask the driver to stop. Reluctantly he does, eventually, and as the doors open I hear a few voices say, "Thank Christ for that" as every guy on the bus runs off!

We finally check into the Rila, dry and accident free an hour later. It's about 1am so instead of the promised welcome meal we get presented with some rolls filled with, “weak ass disgusting cheese like stuff” as Stu loudly proclaimed in reception. Not bothering to change, we wander across the road to Francos. It's almost empty, but that doesn't stop Tommy greeting us with a loud, "fuck me, you're back!" and a few free beers. Bed at around 2.30.

Monday - First day bedlam, new friends and old friends.

Hotel Rila Bedroom

This is our first time staying in the Rila, and although it’s certainly nicer than a lot of the hotels we’ve been to in Borovets, we were finding it a bit big and impersonal. We had a room at the back, overlooking the black run to the extreme left of the hotel and a big building with a huge ram on it. It had the word ‘Obeh’ below it, and that became a bit of a catchphrase this year, ‘Obey the big sheep’.

You will Obey the Big Sheep

We try to avoid the crowds by getting up stupidly early and heading down to the lobby to collect our lift passes. You may remember I mentioned in last year's report someone called Vicki who worked in the Happy Duck. Well, this year she was with Balkan holidays as a rep and as we entered the room where uniformed Balkan employees were handing out the passes we had a quick look for her. (We'd met her the year before and had been chatting on and off online.) But, when we asked the other reps where she was, they went strangely quiet and wouldn’t give us a direct answer. Strange.

The two of us ran into Bobby Turbo at the entrance to the hotel and chatted to him for a while but he had lessons to do so we agree to meet up later at some point. I leave Stu to the usual melee as instructors find pupils and groups are organised. We were hoping it would've been quieter out there, doing the holiday Sunday to Sunday rather than Saturday to Saturday, but it seems to be terrible both mornings! I leave him to it and go for another coffee.

Stu - Standing by the international flags in front of the Rila, waiting to be picked up for the lessons. Bedlam! The gondola's closed due to lack of snow and high winds, so this side is absolutely rammed. We get assembled but we're off to a slow start as we have some complete beginners in the group, but to be honest it suited me as I started to get used to being on a board again at a nice easy pace. In fact only, myself and an Australian guy in the class had boarded before so we were left to out own devices for a bit. The snow conditions are terrible, the temperature had risen to 15 degrees by lunch time and the resort had had no fresh snow fall for almost two weeks. I was down to my t-shirt due to the heat, and as we headed off to Franco's for lunch the snow was really starting to melt into slush.

I do a few runs down the Rila reds then meet up with Stu for food and then a slow afternoon of small runs and tinkering with bindings. We head back after a while, worried about the snow conditions and praying they'll improve.

Still in our gear we have the usual welcome meeting and welcome meeting wine. We sign up for the now traditional pub crawl which starts in an hour or so, so quick change, quick bite and we're out again. Go round the usual suspects, Franco’s, 101 Cocktails (now Chilli Peppers), Mamacitas, and the rest. I also take the chance to disappear off to the Titanic, which isn’t on out itinerary, but where I meet an internet buddy called Tanny who posts regularly on Ski DVD and Bulgaria Ski and with whom I have a few drinks.

Meet back up with everyone again at silly o’clock in the Happy Duck and get the story about what happened to Vicki, from Vicki herself. Lets just say that there were some incidents just the night before and as of the morning we arrive, she doesn't work for Balkan anymore. I'd brought her some British sweets she’d asked for online which cheered her up a bit, then she got really drunk which cheered her up a lot!

Tuesday - Broken wrists and temperature depression.

Another day and still no fresh snow but it felt a lot colder and some hefty clouds were creeping in. The gondola is open today so I'm up and out like a shot.

Stu - I was with my boarding group. After some runs at the usual patch in front of the Rila, Jo, one of the girls in my group, fell. Well, she more or less just sat down the wrong way and snapped her wrist, cutting her snowboarding career, and the lesson, short as our instructor took her off to the medical centre. I met up with her later on in Franco’s to offer sympathy but she seemed perfectly fine while being clearly spaced out on painkillers.

Meanwhile, up top, the clouds are so heavy that you can’t see the gondola station until the gondola enters it! Classic white out conditions that make coming down a slow process and I really wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t seen so many people heading out before me. Knowing the run and thinking like a sheep I followed them. Damn silly as you couldn't see five feet in front of you, and in conditions like that you don't know how fast you're going. Fortunately, the clouds parted halfway down and had some nice runs until late in the day, although only from mid-station down.

A quiet night out tonight, well quiet for Borovets standards, that involves most of the pubs from last night and moments on knees, in the street, praying to the snow gods … or maybe we’re just falling over a bit.

PLEASE SNOW!

Wednesday - Extreme Leg Burn and the Last Run Phenomenon.

Stu - I was the only person that turned up to the group today. Nikki our instructor, knowing that I knew the basics took me onto the chair lift and onto a red run. Got on brilliantly, even on the steep bits, it’s amazing what a bit of one-on-one instruction will do. Did the first half of one of the reds in front of the Rila, but when I reached the green that cuts across them, my legs felt that someone had set them on fire! Nikki agreed we should take it easy and followed the green down.

I too was on the Rila side today, having a go at that black we could see from our hotel room balcony. It was a struggle to avoid the ice, so on my second run, when I spied Stu on the green, I decided to follow him for a bit. Bad Idea! ... it may be a green for skiers, but for boarders it’s too damn narrow to properly control your speed. We can’t snowplough! Dive off down one of the reds and head to the usual place.

Stu - Lunch in Franco’s and by the time it got for us to stand up my legs were feeling far too sore. Eventually I decided on a few runs of the green off to the right of the Rila, Nice and close to the hotel if I felt wobbly, but still out and about. Unfortunately, on my second run I fell... badly. I caught an edge and sort of flipped over bashing my knees on solid ice. I was done for the day. Limping back to the hotel, I jumped into a warm bath to try and sooth my bruises. My legs made me a million promises of pain to come. Please snow!

I had a few more runs, then back to Francos as I had a date to keep. I’ve been in Borovets a few times now, but tonight was only the second time I’d ever been night boarding. Met up with Bobby Turbo and we headed out for the evening. Some nice runs, well lit and very quiet, but holy moly, it’s cold up there!

Now, it turns out that the girl from Stu’s group who broke her wrist, Jo, is right next door to us in the Rila, on holiday with her pal Kath. After I get back and changed we meet them in the lobby and get chatting about places to eat ... and in a few moments end up all heading out to White Magic for pizza. It's run by a guy called Christo who used to be in the Bulgarian National Ski Team and who's quite a character. The place is tiny, but there's memorabillia from his skiing days all over the walls and he'll even take you out on the slopes for a few lessons, although you might end up falling for his camera!

We chat to Christo for a bit then head down to the Happy Duck. It's busy so we have to sit next to a fridge in the corner. Thing is though, it has a light inside designed by the guy who made the light on top of the Luxor Hotel in Vegas. The first time it opens it physically hurts our eyes and we all recoil swearing. We were being blinded every time the staff wanted something cold!

The band were right next to us too, so we were dazzled in one eye and deafened in one ear, a combination that could have worked but we decided to start heading back and manage to get as far up as the pub, 101 Cocktails.

After half an hour Stu goes to the bar and I join the huge queue for the toilet, before realising what every other man is doing and step outside at the back. We’re all quietly doing our thing when a voice pipes up, “you know for a wee pub, it’s got a bloody huge toilet! There are trees in it and everything!” As I stumble back, laughing, in I notice something, something that the trees have been sheltering me from. It’s snowing! No, IT’S SNOWING! Great huge flakes. I stand in it for a moment, go in and stand in front of Stu with a huge smile on my face. He takes a second to realise what I’m covered in then punches the air!

We toy with the idea of shimmying up the gondola cable S.A.S style with our boards on our backs and waiting to get the first run in the morning. No chance. After a few vodka red bulls in 101 cocktails the girls called it a night. We didn’t. This calls for a celebration!

SNOW!

Thursday - The Golden Chicken, Four Monkeys and Old Lady Porn.

Fluffy gorgeous beautiful soft wonderful powder. It hasn’t stopped snowing all night and the whole resort has changed dramatically. Trees are no longer green, they’re white. Beginners are laughing when they fall, not grimacing against hard ice. The snow gods are good people.

I have some great runs up top all morning, then come down for lunch with Stu, but we decide not to eat outside!

It really was that deep!

I'm a bit knackered from the riding that morning and Stu's really feeling pain in his knees. I prescribe Kaminitsa (it 'calms the knees, ah') but he has a few chocolate brandys instead. We spend the afternoon tinkering with bindings and then playing on a wee kicker at the top of the Rotata slope, filming each other, posing for photos and getting mildly drunk. Brilliant lazy afternoon, with lots of tumbles, but we had such a soft landing!

Brandy Chocolate and a screwdriver

ROCK

This won't end well

I've just realised that these are some of the first photos we took that holiday! It seems that we were too depressed to take pictures of a bare snowless resort!

Back to the hotel and after a brief snooze before we’re out on the town for the Balkan Quiz Night. It’s in a restaurant called the Golden Chicken, one we’ve never heard of, never mind visited before. After a hunt around and a few questions we find it near the gondola, having passed it a number of times over the week and not noticed it. As with the pub crawl, it was nowhere near as good as the Thomsons quiz last year, but it had its moments. The hosts were both Bulgarian so some of the questions got a bit lost in translation.

"Ok, now, there are four monkeys… standing… facing the walls of a room"

The mere concept gave us chills. It was like The Blair Monkey Project. Are they looking at us, are we not Obeying the big sheep? It’s without a doubt the first time we’ve ever gotten the FEAR from a pub quiz. But in the end we won and got a bottle of cheap champers, so it’s not all bad.

We share the free booze with a crowd of people we'd become familiar with over the week and stayed out chatting and drinking to quite late, and we would have stayed longer had a fight not nearly started. This was out first experience of trouble in Borovets, but that's mainly because we don't like the Buzz Bar, but as things started kicking off we decided we needed a kebab!

Greasy food in hand, we got home, and switched on the soft porn channel Stu had found on the telly. It was a constant advert for phone sex lines of every description, and was diverting in harmlessly titillating way until and old lady, and I mean a wrinkled grey pensioner in her 70's, appeared in nothing but a thong trying to get people to phone. It was like being slapped. We both shouted Nooooooooo! far too loud and must have woke up half the hotel. Stu nearly choked on his food. We didn’t watch that channel again (well not much).

Stu's been coughing and spluttering a bit today and later than night I wake myself up having a bit of a cough. Oh oh.

Friday - Scary skidoo, the flu arrives, heat stroke at the black tiger

We sleep late today as it's really obvious we're both coming down with something. It's an effort, but we get up, get out and go up the gondola together, Stu and myself both doing the blue circuit up there but at different speeds.

At lunchtime we jump on the back of the skidoo that takes you back up to the gondola (there's a travelator now) and Stu almost flys off the back. The driver shot off like a bullet from a gun, not really waiting until we were on it properly. The trip up was one long loud swear word.

Stu - I thought it was time to board the slopes I had skied down a year before, so instead of getting the gondola down I decided to board down, at least to the top of the Yastabrets four man chair. I got on okay with some help from TK, but at one point I fell and somehow cut my hand. I ended up walking along the straight, tired and pissed off. I jumped onto the chair and headed back to the bottom the easy way. I got a taxi back and headed straight to bed. I really wasn’t feeling very well at all. Making sure I was okay TK disappeared up the gondola again and was gone for the day. When I awoke Rob had returned but looked like he was really battling the flu now.

Despite our sniffles, we head out. A pizza in an almost deserted Francos and anguish from Stu has he's finding it difficult to finish his beer. His mind nearly snaps at the prospect! The resort seems a bit empty, so we wander around, ending up at the Karaoke in the Black Tiger. Here’s where everyone is! It was the last night of the holiday for so many people, so the place was packed out.

We try to get into the swing of things but unfortunately, the place was far too hot. Stu went red, bright, bright red, and slipped back to the hotel to collapse, joined by Rob a bit later.

Saturday – Blank space

There’s no diary for today, well nothing that doesn’t look like a page from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. From memory it went like … try to get up, groan, have another hour in bed, try to get up, groan, have another hour in bed, and repeat until lifts close. We were both loaded with the man-flu by now, so saw the last day of boarding go past from behind our window. Not that we were that bothered, we’d had some amazing boarding all week, and we consoled ourselves with a walk around the resort, mooching in the shops and taking it very easy. Most people are going home today so the resort is emptying out rapidly. Weird to see it so quiet.

We had dinner in the hotel and after a wander round what is now a bit of a ghost town, we have one last round in the Rila lobby and head to bed.

Sunday - You can’t get home ... Scotland’s shut

We awake, coughing and spluttering at around 6am, to catch the bus to Sofia. The two of us are running on some kind of primitive survival system as we finishing packing, collect our passports and slump down on the coach.

The guide on the bus fancied herself as a history teacher and spoke all the way to the airport while all we wanted to do was sleep. We wouldn’t have minded but she couldn’t really speak English and broke off into Bulgarian just as the story was warming up. The jist of it, we think, was that the town of Samakov has good potatoes.

We had a slight delay at the airport, but wasn’t too bad, then a good incident free flight back to Manchester. We jumped on the National Express coach outside the airport and got taken to the depot in central Manchester where we were told that we would not be going any further.

Heavy snowfall in Scotland had caused all airports and rail links to be closed, add to this that an earlier coach had slid off the road a few hours earlier. A guy came onboard and said there was a hostel where we could bed down for the night and attempt a run up north in the morning. This wasn’t met with much enthusiasm, to say the least, so we stayed put.

After a worrying, but warm hour or so the driver came back on with some good news, the roads had cleared a little so he was going to attempt to take us all home. The trip back was fine, took a while mind you but we were very glad just to be able to see the finish line in sight. And we saw little or no snow the whole journey! Another year gone.

So there it is, warts and all. We got hurt, we got ill, we nearly saw a big fight and we saw the breasts of a very old lady.

We also had some fantastic riding in some fantastic snow, some great nights out and a real good laugh. Can’t help the fact that we both caught a bugger of a cold, which kind of put the kibosh on the last day, but will we go back? Of course we will!

NOTES

The video at the top is an edit that was made for inclusion in the Ski DVD of Borovets by Phil Cross or 'Banknote', of PalmCross Productions and owner of the Ski DVD website. (He chose the music too.) For more info head to http://www.skidvd.co.uk/

Borovets 2005

2010-01-04T09:11:00.000-08:00

Last year I was living in London and flew, on my own, from Gatwick to Pamporovo. Later that year I moved back home to Scotland and one night in October went for a pint in a local pub for the first time in six years. I saw a few familiar faces, amongst whom were Bob and Stu, two guys I last remembered seeing as young teenage tearaways as part of a junior ski club I was helping to kit out.

After the shock of seeing them all grown up and buying drink, the conversation turned to skiing and snowboarding. They asked me if I still did, and I told them about last season's adventure in Pamps and how I hoped to repeat it again early next year, although this time I might go back to Borovets, a resort I had visited a few years back.

They went off and had a conflab amongst themselves, after which they came back over and asked,

"Can we come?"

Cut to five months later... (Stu's comments are in italics)

Saturday - Hello? Zac?

I may have been an hour late picking them up, but it was still an ungodly hour as the two skiers squeezed bags, food and bodies into my car for the trip down to Manchester from Scotland. Flight leaves at 1.50pm, so check in at 11.50am, car park at 11.00am, why are we leaving Scotland at 5 in the bloody morning?! So we can listen to the six hours of Bulgarian pop I spent the week downloading and burning you fools. Get in the car!

Bob why are you wearing big goth boots with metal bits? You'll have to take them off at the security check in the airport.

"No I won't."

Manchester Airport, Terminal 2 departures. As Bob walks behind us, stocking soled and complaining, we wander into the pub and sit right next to people we discover we've been chatting to online for the past few weeks. This calls for a drink. Thirty minute delay. That calls for a drink too. Bob finally puts his boots back on. That calls for two drinks.

Stu, me and Bob and some pre-departure drinks

Flight. Bus. Borovets. (If only it was that easy!)

Arrive at the hotel Breza. Luggage in rooms, room numbers written down on foreheads, we hit Zac's bar, which is actually inside the hotel, our for a little pre-holiday drink thing we'd organised online. Met with a padlock and darkness. Bugger. It's 10 pm!

Instead we wander up to the Rila and I have my first Kaminitsa in a year, sitting in the lovely lounge listening to someone who looked like a young, Bulgarian, Alexi Sayle not so much murder, but tickle to death, some songs I thought I'd forgotten. Get talked out of buying his CD. That calls for a drink. Go back to the hotel and Zac's is now open! What type of clock does this man use? We meet the rep, get tickets for the morning and save a queue.

Go to bed happy. Dream of planes.

Hotel Breza

Tour Guide bit: The Breza is nice, clean and warm. The rooms may be a little small but it's in an ideal location for both the Rila slopes and the Gondola it has a fantastic little bar to chill out in and a restaurant in which you don't. Zac also had an impressive amount of pirate DVDs for those too tired to move nights. The ski room looks like a place to keep hostages in though.

Hindsight Bit: Zac isn't there anymore ... don't ask.

Stu in the Breza Ski Room ... really.

Sunday - Welcome to the Jungle.

I leave the skiers to a melee of bodies and skis at the rear of the gondola, and wander up to an almost empty Rila ski depot for my hired snowboard. I get a lovely brand new Trans custom board with bindings that looked quite far apart and on the button lift outside soon discover that I can't board with them like that ... it feels like I'm doing the splits.

With a slightly higher voice, I go back for a screwdriver and discover that almost everyone in Borovets has decided that it'd be a laugh to stand in the same corridor. After a bit of nudging and elbowing I manage to get my hands on a board tool and talk the guys at the hire depot into letting me fix my own bindings so that a) the guys behind me get served quicker and b) they don't kill me.

Mine for the week

I get out alive with fixed bindings and meet my group, namely BillyBoy, Grant, Rob and his mates plus a lady who turned up on day one and never returned. The instructor this year has gone with the English moniker of Mike and legend that he is, takes us straight up the four-man chairlift in front of the Rila. Once again, I start getting some snow miles under my board. Superb! Although, after the great run from the top of the chair, we do the horrible little path that skiers call a green run ... boarders can't snowplough and we all find it far too narrow for a controlled run.

I pass Stu and Bob who really aren't having fun. We'll find out why in a moment.

The rest of my boarding group need a wee bit of practise down the bottom so I stupidly go and do the run again, and end up having my first fall of the holiday at the feet of a lovely young lady who laughed and said I did it in a very stylish way. I never see her again all week. Typical.

Lunch with two disheartened skiers in a place with a big eagle on display that we all hope is stuffed and not just having a quiet moment. The guys feel that they can't turn, so instead of doing the sensible ex-ski technician thing and actually looking at the skis I suggest a wax and a practise. I've really got my confidence back, and as I've also been practising up in the Highlands and on dry slopes, I run off to tackle the black run at the far side of the Rila (the lunch beers helped), then up the new (to me) chairlift at the bottom and do it again. I get back alive, so that really calls for a drink.

Stu - I was put onto a 180cm ski instead of the 150cm which I was used to and had requested and the bottom of one of the skis had part of the binding plate sticking out of the bottom and I just couldn't turn it. Also, because of the rapid temp shifts, the snow had become very sticky and all the skiers were having a hard time of it, the only way i could stop was to fall into the side of the snow bank. Me and Bob call it day after lunch and headed back to Zac's bar for some beer.

We all manage to stay awake as we sit in Zac's Bar, giggling away at Team America, until the welcome meeting where we sign up for the bar crawl and the pub quiz (why isn't it the other way round?). Bed for an hour, shower, get the glad rags and the drinking trousers on, go out, walk two feet and fall, hard. Repeat.

Drinks in Peters, 101 cocktails (a pub name or a challenge?), Franco's (our home from home for the week), the Karaoke Bar (Achy Breaky Heart for old times sake) and the Buzz Bar. Got chatting to a young lady in the Karaoke Bar who had heard me sing and hadn't run away. We talked for ages and so, on the walk to the Buzz Bar, we tried to steady each other by walking arm in arm. Obviously I ended up quickly looking closely at her shoes. I was very ungracefully, almost pulling her down as I clung on for dear life! I actually did that arms flailing, feet a blur thing before clattering down, so I reckon I spoiled my chances. She was lovely too. Doesn't call for a drink, but I have one anyway.

Wander down to the Happy Duck to meet up with the skiers (who took one look at the Buzz Bar and buggered off. I thought it was okay, but it's not for everyone) and meet the lovely Vicki, who I'd been chatting to online, for the only time on the holiday. My one regret of the week was never catching up with her again. It wasn't deliberate... We went back twice and both times she wasn't there!

Pissed in the Happy Duck

Go to bed sore. Dream of being suave and not falling.

Tour Guide bit: The pubs in Borovets are a mixed bag. Some are big drinking barns, some are loud and brash, others are quiet with a nice fire and nice conversation. There's even one or two with an air of sophistication, albeit ruined with a trip to the toilet.

Hindsight bit: 101 Cocktails is pretty much the same, although the name has changed. Vicki isn't at the Happy Duck anymore, but she'll pop up again in next year's blog.

Monday - My God my head, a recurring theme

Up and out for the group assembly at ten, but only just. Second day up the hill takes us back up the Rila chair, and as has happened before, I get a touch of hangover induced vertigo. I suffer in silence, hold on tight and enjoy the view, of the inside of my eyelids. I hate heights, but needs must.

The group soon fractures into the 'we did it for a week last year' intermediates and the 'been doing it for a fair few years now' intermediates. Billy Boy and myself take the shortest route to the bottom of the Rila slopes while the other guys trundle on down the green, passing each other occasionally. I'm accosted by Stu and Bob's ski instructor who asks me where they are. I discover via the walkie talkies that they're still in bed, and that no-one's talking to Alison who's stuck at the bottom of a drag tow and a Bulgarian lady isn't happy and someone called Dave stank out the room last night and again this morning. Aren't walkie talkies great?

We split for lunch, at which point I meet Stu who's now out of bed but still having ski problems. He can't glide them from a snowplough to a straight run and when I eventually bother to take a look I see why. Between the toe and the heel piece, there's a deep groove on the base, right next to the edge on both sides. They wouldn't make good firewood.

Using me as big hairy backup, we go to the ski hire at the gondola and swap them for a better pair, with surprising ease, then go and play on a green to test them out. The change is incredible and Stu's skiing improves immediately. That calls for a drink. I leave him after an hour or so and go tackle the bigger Rila slopes for a wee bit and head back to Zac's to find Bob, the other skier, who has just surfaced. I go to bed.

Up a few hours later for pizza in Francos and a re-visit to all the pubs we liked on the pub crawl the night before. 101 Cocktails was a bit of a let down as the smell from the toilets got a bit overpowering. The vodka redbulls in a big glass with equal amounts of both ingredients kept us there for a while though, right up until the smell of shit made me retch.

Then it gets a bit blokey. There are bars in Borovets with names like Go-Go Girls and Playboy and Erotic Bar. As single men on holiday went to see what they were like.

Eh...

Go to bed briefly. Not telling you what I dreamt of that night.

Tour Guide bit: Make sure you're happy with your ski or snowboard gear on day one. It's vital to make sure your boots fit, you're going to wearing them a lot over the next week. Almost as important is the condition of the base and bindings of your board or skis which, as Stu discovered, can have a huge effect on your snow riding. Don't be afraid to stand your ground and demand a change if your gear isn't up to scratch. Oh, and if you're hiring ... get there EARLY!

Hindsight Bit: The 'gentleman's club' is still there, but sadly the photo opprtunity has long gone.

Tuesday Three hours sleep! Three!

Out to meet a much smaller boarding group this morning, and tell them I'll meet them in Francos at 11.30 because I need food, coffee and some head surgery. We're being joined by another instructor today so he can film us for a DVD. Go to Mamacitas and have an unfortunate plate of burnt breakfast meats, and a few coffees. Then over to Francos for more coffee. Then pee for half an hour.

Stu - Meanwhile, Bob was in his bed and I was up bright and early to go up the top of the mountain via the gondola. We tackle what is known as the blue circuit which finishes off on the bottom of a red run before taking the most terrifying poma lift back up to the top... this thing moves at light speed. We get our confidence up and take a shorter, scarier route down through the red run and keep it going all morning. After lunch the group splits up and I head back down into the resort feeling very pleased with myself, a huge confidence boost after a shocking first day. Bob now goes and gets his ski's changed too.

Meet the group and the incredible Bobby Turbo for the first time. He gets his camera out and we play up for our DVD, jumping through trees, going too fast and falling too hard. I'm wired from the coffee and can't blink. Weird morning. Bobby has to go off and teach people for the day, but has arranged to meet us later.

Some stills from the DVD

By late afternoon, all that remains of the boarding group is BillyBoy and myself, so we take one of the last gondolas up and have the mountain to ourselves. Fantastic! Lots of space, stupidly deep powder and it's all being captured on video. What a run.

At the bottom, Bobby literally runs away, leaving Billy and myself standing around. We're in a bit of a fix as we realise we don't know where we are, no-one's about and it's getting dark.

Bugger.

We spot some buildings and decide on a direction we reckon our hotel is in (by chance, BillyBoy is also in the Breza) and start walking, and walking, and walking ... and eventually, after a few disturbing outcomes to this predicament are discussed, we wander past a road sign. I decide that logically we should follow it as, even though it's in Bulgarian, it must be pointing us towards something big enough to warrant a road sign, and it's not saying anything scary like '45 kilometrski'. We walk on for what seems like ages, and stumble surprisingly onto the green run at the extreme right of the Rila. Boards on, we have the last, bewildered, run of the day, stopping only to watch the bum boarders have a laugh and get cold.

Feel really manly as we wander into Zac's still in our gear when everyone else is dressed for dinner. Then sit down and feel really old when I need to be helped up again. Bed!!

Wake up to a weird creaking noise and realise it's my knees. Decide to take it easier tomorrow. Had lunch in Francos today, so for a change, we go there for our evening meal too ... after a fair few in Zac's of course. There's a quiz on run by a different tour company but we manage to sneak in anyway and end up feasting on the 100th pizza that week whilst whispering answers to a table nearby. Barry and Phillipa, a lovely couple from the Breza, join us after they got fairly merry at the wine tasting evening and have a nightcap. Bob slept so much today this is practically breakfast, but the rest of us have had a long day and want to head back home. We get to the Breza and discover a party. Head in and drink almost as many beers as get poured on our heads. Leave as a water fight starts. Go to bed wet. Dream of pizza.

Tour Guide bit: The excursions organised by the reps aren't for everyone, but after talking to Barry and Phillipa we all wished we had gone to the wine tasting. What makes them memorable isn't the wine, or the Bulgarian dancing, or the pub quiz questions, but the other people you're sitting with. If you know a good crowd are going, hang the expense and live it up. And a word of warning for the pub quiz, the all male sports quiz round is a dirty rotten ruse. More later.

Hindsight bit: If he hadn't followed that roadsign we would have got to the hotel much quicker! Sorry Bill.

Wednesday: Bob appreciates some male erotic dancers. We just look at him.

The snowboarding group is a little bigger again today as we assemble in Francos, surprise, surprise. The lessons are officially over, but Mike our instructor and the inimitable Bobby Turbo take us for a run, camera running. We jump, fall, dive through trees, go to fast, and have a great day. I didn't even mind that much when one of the group fell above me into someone else who in turn whacked me on the back with his board, but I didn't sit downhill from anyone again all week.

Stu - Bob and I meet our group at the gondola station and head back up for a repeat of yesterday. Bob's skiing improves with the shorter ski's while my legs begin to really ache. We ducked off the side of the red run for some off piste powder action, but I fell dramatically at high speed and knocked the wind out my sails. Everyone looks worried. I sit out for a few runs and decide just to call it a day as my nerves were shattered. Our instructor suggests we ski down to the mid station to get the gondola but i disagree. Me n bob head back for some well earned beers.

Near the end of the day I berated myself for having so many 'last runs'. Those are the ones you hurt yourself on, and this was no exception. I shot far too quickly from a starting hut we'd noticed up the mountain and as the inevitable speed wobble turned into a so-to-be-face-plant I forgot all my training and put my arm out to cushion my fall. Fortunately nothing broke, but my wrist was sore all night, especially when I lifted a pint glass. Disaster.

Going...

Gone.

We got back, kipped for an hour, then headed out, four of us in all as Billy boy had joined us for the evening. The instructors ski show was on, so we wandered up the road from the hotel and laughed as Stu's mouth fell open. He hadn't realised just how close the Breza is to the Rila slopes. All week he'd been walking down to the Samakov and up through the town. If you walk up the road, past the medical centre, you're there in about a minute! He'd been taking ten minutes, as well as taking his life in his hands on the icy road while wearing ski boots.

The ski show is a few quid to watch, or free if you stand in a car park and strain your eyes. We did the latter until the cold drove us into a pub. A drink, a quick look at the fairly pathetic fireworks and off to Katy's steak house. God damn it's good.

"stand in a car park and strain your eyes"

Now tonight, for our evening's debauchery, we had a plan suggested by our rep. There were male strippers on in the Rila nightclub, and it was pointed out to us that after they had finished, the place would be full of women on the rampage. That'll do us we thought, so paid, 10 lev, 8 lev, 6 lev and 5 lev to get in, with 3 lev being rung up on the till by the door each time. We didn't find out until later that we had all paid a different amount, the man at the door being some sort of human random number generator. And guess who paid 10 lev?!

The male strippers were still on, and Bob was getting weird. He was watching with a very impressed look on his face, then turned to us and said in all seriousness,

They're very good aren't they?

We gave him the look he deserved.

Bill and me buggered off to (guess where?) Francos, stopping to ask Stu to have a quiet work with Bob. On our return about an hour later we were happy to see the male strippers had finished, but it seemed like our rep had given the same tip to every other single bloke in the resort. Go to bed via pubs and slippy roads. Dream of being hit on the knees with a basball bat.

Tour Guide bit: The ski show, if your instructor is in it, is a must-see. If not, it's a fairly expensive, cold night out, albeit with some very impressive skiing. Just remember, you'll be standing for around an hour in a temperature guaranteed to be minus something. There are pubs by the edge of the slopes that will let you sit by the windows and watch it without paying, but only if you buy a few drinks, so it works out the same.

Hindsight bit: Katy's is still there! Go, go now.

Thursday: Losers and movie stars.

Our boarding group lessons have been over for two days now, but Mike still meets us at the bottom of the Gondola with a few of his mates, and we have another morning playing about. This ends with us all having our pictures taken for inclusion at the end of the DVD in a very picturesque little area near the bottom of the mountain. Mike decides to take his top off for his shot, so to show our appreciation for sticking with us for two days above and beyond the call of duty, we dive on him and rub him in the snow.

Me, Billy, Rob, Grant plus instructor Mike.

A lazy afternoon with bouts of stupidly fast riding ends in me having a sore little tumble, so for the first time this week, I'm back in Zac's before 3pm. Sit and overdose on Chocolate Brandys, realise I'm getting a bit pissed and head to bed for half an hour.

Three hours later I'm rushing about, banging sore bits against my bathroom walls as I have woken up realising I'm late for the pub quiz. It's in Francos so I run there on auto pilot, pulling on my top as I get to the door.

I shouldn't have bothered, it's so busy that the pizzas (that are included in the pub quiz price) are still being served, so have plenty of time to chat to our new team mates. Together we are a girl from Essex called Sam, a guy called Mick, a couple from London, Stu, Bob and myself, and we put up a fair performance. The questions are standard pub quiz fare, with extras like a 'make something out of foil' round, a male dancing round (they were told it was going to be a male sports quiz) and various other chances to make a fool out of yourself. We came a close seventh, and have a wee celebration. Bobby Turbo comes in with our DVDs and we cringe as the pubs big screen comes down and it goes on for all to see. It was utterly fantastic! The whole pub roaring with laughter, oohing and ahhing at our boarding and, far more frequently than I'd have liked, our falling. I go and stand with the rest of my boarding group as our abilty as boarders is shown for all to see, and I must admit, I had a tear in my eye. Mainly through laughter, but part of me knew I only had a day left and the holiday was almost over.

However, I go to bed very happy. Dream of winning an Oscar.

Tour Guide bit: If you can, get a DVD made. I wasn't expecting much, but Bobby Turbo expertly edited ours, set it to music, added titles, still shots and made a thoroughly professional movie that cost less than a round of drinks in the UK. It's a fantastic souvenir, much better than still photographs and it can even help your skiing and boarding as you can't help studying your own technique as you watch. Please though, make sure everyone in your group who's in it, buys one. I know it's so easy to buy one and copy it at home, but it really wouldn't be fair on the makers.

Hindsight bit: One day I'll get over how clumsy I look and put some of it up on YouTube

Friday: Seen with skiers.

Stu and Bob watched the DVD last night and immediately said, 'we want one too!' So at 10 in the morning they assemble in (yes, that place again) Francos to meet with Bobby Turbo and his camera. In order to make up the numbers me and Sam (the lass from Essex) join in the fun. It's actually the first time this week I've been out on the slopes properly with the skiers and we have a great laugh.

We go up the gondola and down to the top of the four man chair no problems, but just as we set off again Sam has a tumble. I didn't see it and don't know if she was at fault, but there was a collision and she ended up sitting out the rest of the day in a cafe up the hill waiting to be stretcher'd off. We have the last run of the holiday to the bottom of the mountain with Bobby, who immediately rushes back up to film Sam going down the easy way. An X-ray and a cast later, she gets beer and sympathy in Zac's while Bobby edits what little footage he gathered of us.

We're all getting a bit skint by now, so dinner in the hotel for the first time of the week, followed by a quiet night of pubs and carrying Sam on our backs. Go to bed sad. Dream of booking up for next year.

Bobby Turbo on 'Sam' duties.

Tour Guide bit: Insurance! can't emphasise that enough.

Hindsight bit: Damn I miss the old days of being in group lessons, going over this again has made me realise what a great laugh it was.

Saturday: Home

The last day is always weird. A resort full of people killing time, mooching in the shops, drinking coffee, getting presents, saying goodbye.

We carry Sam up to the Rila to do a bit of all of the above then meet up with Bobby to get our DVD's. Back to Zac's to wait out the clock and watch our efforts yesterday. It's a fantastic job given the amount of footage he had to work with and we're all happy with the result. There's a shot of Stu, Bob and myself snow riding together just as the song 'Let's Make this Moment Last' comes on and once again I go all mushy. The rep comes in for us and we all too quickly bundle up our gear and leave.

Hours and hours and hours later I go to bed, my own bed, exhausted. Too tired to dream.

Pamporovo 2004

2010-01-02T16:17:00.000-08:00

Saturday/Sunday - Delays and a zombie.

To be honest, it didn't start well. I lived in London at the time, so I arrived nice and early at Gatwick, checked in, had a browse round the shops, had a quick Guinness, wandered to the gate and boarded the plane. We taxied onto the runway and revved up the engines, and revved them again, and again, and again, and then taxied back to the gate to wait half an hour for steps so we could all get off again.

So starts the longest delay I've ever experienced. We were supposed to take off at 18.40 on Saturday. By the time they found us another bloody plane and got us on it was around 04.20 on Sunday ... just under 10 hours in Gatwick! They did give us some compensation. It was a £3 food/drink voucher. Bear in mind that a McDonalds in the airport, which was the only food place still open, cost about a fiver, and a pint in the bar costs £2.80 (in 2004!) A £3 voucher! 10 hours!

Leaving my emotions about the flight behind for sanity's sake I boarded the coach to Pamporovo at around nine on Sunday morning and, with the other people on board, we optimistically decided that we were all very lucky to be approaching the resort during the day, watching the mountains getting higher and the snow getting thicker.

Approach to Pamprovo

I had an accommodation allocated on arrival deal, so wasn't sure what to expect, but the Rohzen, where I ended up, was fine. Warm and clean with Satellite TV and balcony with a great view. It's fairly central, but the hill up to it is a bugger, especially after the pub or after a day on the slopes (so pretty much every time I climbed it) but overall the hotel did the job.

Inside the Rohzen

We were offered the chance to hit the slopes after our late arrival and most of us did, so despite the length of the delay we only actually lost around three hours on the snow. By early afternoon, I had met up with the rest of my boarding group and our instructor who'd adopted the British moniker of George, and had had my first tentative run down the hill after a long break from any sort of snow sport.

Blue/Green on the other side of the mountain

The other guys in my group were beginners, so on the first day they all caught the chair back down whilst George took me down via something a bit steeper. He did offer to find me a class of higher ability, but the guys in my group were a great bunch and to be honest, I didn't think my years of sloth in London would be the best introduction to an advanced snowboarding class.

Off the mountain but still in boarding gear, it's time for the Balkan Welcome Meeting, and the Balkan Welcome Meeting Wine. Due to THAT delay I've not really slept, had an afternoon on a snowboard, and then had a few glasses of scary red Balkan Welcome Meeting Wine, is it any wonder I became a zombie, with the proper shuffle and everything.

I shuffled to a pub called the White Hart, had a 1 lev pint (as knackered as I was, it was rude not to), then had a half hearted explore through the shopping centre and hotel lobby's. They are all inter-connected so you don't really ever have to wander outside if you're on the main street. I ended up at the other end in a pub called BJ's where I had a small bottle of beer to fortify me for the walk back. Of course it was happy hour, so I got another bottle free. This really finished me so I headed back to the Rohzen, stopping only for another 1 lev pint for the hill. I popped my head round the door of NightFlight on the way up to my room (a nightclub in the basement of the Hotel Rohzen) but didn't stop. By entering I had doubled the amount of people in there!

Monday - Boarding, Bells and Black-outs

There's been a mix up with my boarding lessons. I'd paid for three mornings ... what I've got is five full days. I even argued a bit with George, but soon shut my mouth as I realised how much in my favour this was. The pace of the lessons suited me fine, come up a little later in the morning and join the class as they started tackling some bigger runs. Some great boarding in some amazing sunshine... Salopettes, t-shirt, gloves and sunscreen, and a few icy beers. This is a holiday.

I got into a habit of coming off the mountain around four in the afternoon, leaving my kit at the mountain hire depot and catching one of the many free buses into the town. It's about a five or ten minute journey, depending where your hotel is, and pleasant apart from one peculiarity. I've boarded all over the world by now and haven't seen this anywhere else. There are lines and lines of men trying to sell you bells. Tiny, annoying, fairly crappy looking bells. And boy, are they persistent! Every morning and afternoon you run an off-key, tinkling gauntlet of 'You buy bell, you buy bell, yes please'.

The thing is, I did really intend to buy one on my last afternoon. But by the time I got off the hill that day, the buggers had gone!

Anyway, I got into a habit of coming back to the hotel at around quarter past four, hanging my gear up to dry, having a quick hot drink and a cig on the balcony, and going to my bed for a few hours. To this day, I still do it (except for the cig.) Most of the evening entertainments don't start until seven or eight o'clock and the restaurants serve until the early hours. Great way to recharge the batteries, especially considering what was happening tonight...

...the Balkan/Inghams pub crawl. A tour of the resort's drinking establishments, a chance to meet other guests and a free shot in every pub, all for a few lev.

It started with convivial drinks and conversation in the (beautiful) lobby of the hotel Pamporovo where I met up with five other early birds ... Kevin, Tony, young Ian, forgot and don't remember. As around thirty people were expected we got, well, more than one free shot each. Onwards to BJ's (why have the pubs so far apart!) where we found the other 25 crawlers ... and then some.

More free shots and Achy Breaky Heart on the Karaoke. And beer. Dak's bar next for fore me shots and beer. Had to do a forfeit as I'd broken some drinking rule that I had forgotten about and ended up kissing ten girls in ten seconds. They haven't called. White Hart next I think (might have been unknown mystery pub between Daks and White Hart but then again we might have just stopped in one of the hotel lobbys) Flee Shlots in White Hart and beer. And beer. As it was the reps birthday she headed up to NightFlight. As we were drunk and on a pub crawl we followed her, not knowing what else to do. She got annoyed as she was actually just going to the toilet. Ended up in NightFlight anyway. Apparently vodka, maybe beer, woke up with my jeans still on.

Tuesday - Hungover morning, amazing afternoon.

Spent the morning chilling quietly in the snow, drinking coffee and watching the group get better and better, only tentatively joining in. The slopes were so quiet we almost had the place to ourselves, so I spend more time taking photos than I do on my board. Also managed to get myself up to the top of the TV tower at the top of the mountain, the views make it well worth a visit.

It's Windy up the TV Tower

The group disbanded for lunch and George got me on my feet for a few reds that afternoon. Fantastic, although I did feel the leg burn starting to test the flammability of my salopettes. We skidded to a long and very satisfying stop just... just before I actually caught fire. Felt bloody fantastic though.

Spring Snow

Back at the welcome meeting on day one I felt like a bit of a loner, being one of the few single travellers there on the night. I'd therefore signed up for a few of the activities. The aforementioned bar crawl, tomorrow night's pub quiz, and tonight's ... Yabba Dabba Doo Bowling.

I was late and was assigned to a team on arrival. They were a lovely bunch and included Tony from the bar crawl last night, as it turns out, another lone traveller. It's basically a standard game of bowling but you can't bowl in the usual way. Each round has a different twist, for instance bowl with your feet or between your legs, or between someone else's legs. It was just what I needed, a quietish night and a great laugh, and through some bizarre twist, my team ended up winning! A few celebration beers then.

Wednesday - The Run of the Week

Get a coffee at the little stand by the bottom of the chairlift, and for the first time, manage to sit down, get the bar over my head and head off up the hill without spilling the lot over my gloves, jacket and everyone else in the vicinity. Having a lovely ride up when I see my group passing underneath my feet, as they start to graduate from green to blue.

I have a few runs on my own as I wait for them, then as they approach I see huge smiles.
It didn't take long until we were all riding together, and that day, after lunch, it clicked. You'll know what I mean when I say that we all had 'The Run of the Week'. We were gliding in and out of each other, and the other slope users, laughing, waving to our instructor and having pure and simple fun! It was to be our last run of the day, but as soon as we hit the bottom there was a mutual cry of AGAIN AGAIN, so we did, twice. Fantastic!

We come off the mountain too late for me to grab a kip before meeting Tony. We were both signed up for the pub quiz and had decided to form a team. Our first dissapointment was that it was actually a pop quiz. Our second was that we were almost the only people there.

In all fairness, it would have been good if it had been busier but, as with all the organised activities, you could really tell that the season was winding down. There were only really two teams ... one large table and one small one with Tony and myself. The big team split into two, eventually coming first and third. Our wee table filled the gap with a close second. It was a decent enough pop quiz, seven rounds of five questions each and a 'fun' forfeit round that would have been better with more people. Never mind, because of the small turn out I was a shoe-in to win the Karaoke. Achy Breaky Heart won us some wine ... Bulgarian Welcome Meeting Wine. If you look, I bet it's still hidden under our table.

Thursday - Just Fuck off, Thursday!

After our runs on Wednesday I was looking really forward to Thursday morning. Up really bright and early I got talking an instructor at the bottom of the three man chair and we ended up riding it together.

He told me not to hold my snowboard the way I was, but to lay it across my legs. He moved it, I adjusted my position on the chair, and my backpack silently slithered off the chair to the snow below. (Break for swearing) My back pack contained my gloves, water, hat, scarf and bloody expensive mobile phone, and if it wasn't for the phone I would never have attempted the following. (swearing)

The snowboard instructor who caused all this was very cool about it. Oh, it's not a problem, the next pole is number 10, so it fell off near number 9, you just board down and get it. (more swearing) I got off at the top, strapped on my board, and did my first black run of the holiday, right under the chairlift. (with no gloves) I followed the path of the lift on board for a long as I could, then unstrapped and walked, and walked, and walked. I came to tower 12 and the ground left me.

Long Way Down

My pack was in the middle of the most inaccessible area under the tow. I skidded down into the area, using trees to stop myself going to far, and literally pulled myself over the snow. Anytime I tried to walk, my leg disappeared well over my knee, making movement practically impossible. I clambered over fallen trees, down near vertical slopes and over very deep drifts, carrying my board behind me. (more swearing) I'll spare you the details of every step, but after I emerged onto a cross country run, an hour or so after getting my pack back, I was bruised, bleeding and had torn my salopettes. Not the best day.

I went up the chair again straight after and found my group, but I'd had the joy of snow kicked out of me by that time. Had a crap lunch and slowly made my way down the green, and found it very slushy, slow and patchy. Was in a great mood by now. Threw off my gear and went home early to find a pub!

Took a break for a meal of (reasonable) carbonara and (lovely) tiramisu in a resteraunt called Cosmos that overlooks the roads to the resort and managed to get out on the balcony for a few photos, although the guy who opened the door for me had an enormous gun in a holster that took me by surprize a bit.

View from Cosmos

I high-tailed it to the nearest pub to find people I could bore with my tale of woe in return for drink. Judging by my head the next morning, I found them.

Friday - Kilts on Stage

Friday fortunately restored my faith in snow sports somewhat, with some reds in the morning with George and most of the guys in the group then a lazy few hours over lunch where I watched everyone play as I sat in the gorgeous sunshine taking the odd trip down the blue at the back of the mountain. Good job it was sunny as the crotch of my salupetes was now almost gone thanks to yesterday's adventure.

Finally to end the day, one of the guys from my group and myself tackled the black under the chair which was VERY patchy at the top, but still fairly complete to the bottom. A bit dodgy and scary to start with, but the last three quarters of it was the perfect run to end on.

That night was the Snowboard School certificate presentation, and I dressed for the occasion in boots, black top and kilt. Bulgarian Welcome Meeting Wine was the order of the night and after a bottle or two we went up on stage for certificates (thanks to all the whistles my kilt got!) more free wine, won a pair of sunspecs in the raffle, got more whistles (a few worrying ones from men ... they haven't called), more free wine, then off to the White Hart for the last time.

All week I had been boarding with one lot of people and out playing at night with another lot, many of who came and went over the course of the week. Friday night was the first time where everyone I had enjoyed the week with turned up in the one place. Fantastic. I turned up a week ago on my own, and ended up spending the night wandering round the White Hart chatting to almost everyone in the place. A great end to a great week. Except the Thursday which can, as I said, fuck right off!

Look, A Cloud!

NOTES

This was first written in three parts (Travel, Boarding and Nightlife) for bulgariaski.com, then the three were hastily combined for skidvd.co.uk. I've tried to re-write this to suit the diary format of all the other reports. As I mentioned the photos get better every year with camera phone technology ... these are the very worst ones!

This wasn't my first trip to Bulgaria, but it was my first (and only) visit to Pamporovo. I went on my own as it was a bit of a last minute whim and no-one else was willing to part with the cash or drop things on short notice, also this was mid-March 2004 and the season was very much winding down.

Pamporovo has a compact and yet fairly jumping night life. It was very evident at times that the season was ending, but it was still busy enough to have a great laugh... especially on the pub crawl. I dread to think how the three main bars cope during the high season, I bet they can get VERY busy. This would have been an advantage on the organised activities (the bowling and the pop quiz) but would have been a bugger when you wanted to get served in a hurry! As far as I know the resort hasn't changed much, although the White Hart was knocked down and re-opened elsewhere

It's a real shame that it didn't snow all week, but the sunshine almost made up for it. I came home with such a tan, but I'd have swapped that for one or two powder days.