Bansko

Let's play a game! I call it 'don't wake the hibernating bear'. *Losers may be eaten (bears are very hungry in April).

You won't ever see a bear really, not unless you're bushwacking on the northern slopes of the Pirins, says ChatGPT. Except oh, that's exactly what I was doing. Okay, spoilers here, I didn't die and no, I didn't see a bear, but I did stumble across an eery abandoned hut via a forlorn forest footpath. From my ankles tasting the shrill cold of the thick snow breaching my boots in one direction, I decided to hedge my bets on the other, la-dee-da-ing my way up a forgotten path which was littered with obstructing tree trunks and an explosion of springtime vegetation, including the first suggestion of bluebells emerging through the lingering ice.

Sunlight spattered through the pine sprigs and birds chirped in the distance until I emerged into a deathly quiet clearing, where I was faced by a huge and haphazard hut, decaying in its state of abandonment. I was tempted to entertain my curiosity and even stuck my big crooked nose through a few shattered windows, but I soon heard something unsettling - rumbling, glass smashing. Oh hell no, I thought, fuck this. I legged it.

The remaining day was at the pace of a trot and a canter; I'd eaten strudel at a sleepy café, I basked in the sun with a beer at the mountain hut, I read from my hotel balcony as the evening grew long. Oh, apart from a nerve wracking few minutes in the cable car. The power stalled for a good while, leaving me there hanging in the crosswind, agonising at the graffitied doors of the car and the hypothetical distance to plummet downwards. Needless to say, it was fine (only a little bit of pee came out.)

I arrived in Bansko late last night and was greeted by the friendly hotel owner who was keen to warn me that I'd arrived in the town's low season. Fretful though he was, I've really enjoyed that matter. It's been nice to appreciate the place without jostling with other English natives.

That's all folks.Meer informatie