Perlovska Reka

I woke up from the soft bump when the air craft hit the ground, and outside the window different kinds of pink painted the sky behind the mountains surrounding Sofia.
Stefan met us at the airport and walked us to the hostel, and a bunch of hippies taught us the most impotant stuff for surviving the city: How to get breakfast and where the pub crawl would start. A late beer in the park and then an early sleep. Summer nights without a jacket, finding our way through a new city using a strange alphabet that promises you to get lost. We had definitely left Denmark!Les mer