Eastern Europe leaves its mark, no story.
Two days in Bulgaria and the feeling, for nothing new, of being in a geographical limbo in which the history, rich, fascinating, sometimes mocking, dips into a big bin made of cultures, ethnicities, traditions, religions so different to arrive even to clash, yet almost always surprisingly and inexplicably communicating.
A special night, the last of the year, and one intense day, the next, would seem (and actually are) few but, really, they tell much.
They speak of faces seemingly serene and sad looks, of sudden kindness and great mistrust, of small villages and large and crowded shopping malls, of suburbs degraded and historical centers from haunting beauty.
Of domes, minarets and bell towers that vie a piece of heaven with lugubrious (sad, gray ..) and anonymous barracks, of deep spirituality, intense and real that is manifested in the most unexpected and tricks to survive that make more and more often “the whole herb, a bundle”, as we italians usually say.
In the middle, the life flowing, habits, expectations that become certainties, the meetings, the flavors, the spectacle of a rich and generous nature and the places that instinctively incite reflection.
The impressions, as often happens for some destinations, are strong and contrasting.
Look, curious, at the rest of the story.