Surreal to sit on an airplane again, going somewhere. It had been three years almost to the day since I last flew and in the days leading up to my flight I kept hearing that little voice of doubt, the one saying that something would come up, something would derail these plans. I was glad to be wrong of that and finally exhaled after take off from Vancouver, the city quickly disappearing under cloud cover. As if it could be anything else with Vancouver. After an uneventful flight, one stop and many, many hours later, I landed in Bulgaria.

But why? Well, in short I’d never been here and it is affordable. Not the most rigorous criteria, but it also seemed interesting, if only in part for being an unknown, an outline in the far corner of Europe and a far outpost of the EU. The Communist history of the Eastern Bloc also gave it some cachet, though that history is now decades in the past. The ride into the centre of Sofia on the metro was pleasant and after a short walk on streets which are inconveniently poorly signed, I found my hotel. Quick dinner, a glass of wine, and then to bed. I had planned an evening arrival to hopefully slay jetlag, yet days later I am wide awake at 5am, so apparently am just not sleeping much at all.

Sofia is pleasant. Easy. Not too busy. It is classically European in scale, mid-rise buildings hugging close to sidewalks where small restaurants, cafes and bars put out their seat and invite one to sit for an espresso or a beer, time of day be damned. The city began as a Roman colony nearly two thousand years ago, and the ruins of Serdica remain in the city centre, though their presentation is somewhat unremarkable. The main stretch in Sofia is Vitosha Boulevard, a transformed pedestrian spine paved in ubiquitous yellow bricks, a call back to the early 20th century when the newly anointed Bulgarian capital was booming.

I did my best to take in the tourist sights of Sofia, though the list is not enormous and there is a reason you probably haven’t heard of any of them. The highlights were the old religious buildings, a cliche, yes, but true all the same, and the headliner among these was the Alexsandr Nevsky Cathedral, with its classic gold domes glinting in the summer sun. Inside, it is dark and cool, smelling of stone and echoing with the occasional footfall of the intrepid tourist snapping photos of the frescoes adorning every surface. Another favourite was the National Gallery, the main art museum of the country. It was another lesson reminding me how little I know about Bulgaria, with particular highlights being the colourful and powerful paintings of ‘the master’ Vladimir Dimitrov. Some others that caught my eye were stylized portraits of Kiril Tzonev and scenes of everyday life by Vladimir Rilski.

An advantage of Sofia’s relatively small size is it is easy to explore on foot or tram. In contrast to other places I’ve visited, there is also a lot of English spoken here by folks. This took me back a bit, something I hadn’t expected. There still aren’t that many tourists, aside from other Bulgarians, but it was very helpful all the same. There are enough similarities with Russian and Bulgarian that I could do some small things like buy tickets and pick up a coffee and croissant without lapsing into English, which was a bit satisfying. Learning and trying to use a few words, even if poorly, is also the courteous thing to do.

While short on sights, Sofia was big on charm. There is no seeming rush to go anywhere. You can nearly always get a seat on the tram or metro. Sidewalks are lively but almost never crowded. Even on the wider streets, the custom is for drivers to stop for any pedestrian opting to cross – though it took a few rounds for me to build up a level of trust that four separate drivers were all going to come to a stop. This also played strongly against the stereotype of wild Eastern European drivers.

On the whole, Sofia does not comes as a self-conscious place. People give off an impression of conviviality and warmth. It is easy to enjoy a city which embraces cafe culture, where your dollar (or lev) goes a long way and your morning starts with a coffee and a light, fluffy pastry. The evenings follow the same pattern, with families and friends out in the parks enjoying the long, sunny evening. For me, wrapping up a day seated at a table in a leafy courtyard with a good meal and a cold beer, watching the swallows flit around between the treetops and the rooftops, marks a pretty good start for the trip.