Hostel Mostel Bulgar Backpacker

Last minute plans gone to hell.

I arrived at Sofia early in the morning, completely clueless about where I would rest my head that night.  Fortunately the train station was filled with many Bulgarian touts who were more than happy to help me with my lodging problem.  They lay in wait at the station and attack upon sight of large backpacks, spoken English, wayward guitars and lost Western looks.  I mingled with several unseasoned, Lonely Planet-crutch wielding backpackers as we engaged in a song-and-dance with the touts.

I would feign interest in their shitty hotel/hostel and write down the name, the map location and the amenities.  Of course they never mentioned the price until I would ask them.  Even if it was a decent price, I would quickly walk away.  It pissed off the touts, but surprisingly it bothered the Lonely Planet backpacker noobs more.

"That's a good price...with a taxi.  Them seem like nice people, but its not in Lonely Planet."

"Shame. I'll keep looking. Nice to meet you. Bye."  

I didn't make any new friends at the station.

I walked out of the station with a long list of lodging...and a dazed look.  If nothing else surfaced, I would go with the least sketchy option.  I had searched Couchsurfing before for a place, but it hadn't yielded any success.  Appropriately the first people I meet when I left the Sofia train station were Couchsurfers.  I approached then because they looked 'Western' and sure enough they were from Brussels, Belgium.  They were already surfing with someone else, so they directed me to Hostel Mostel for the night.

Hostel Mostel is a highly recommended, well-known chain of Bulgarian hostels that organize several daytrips as well as nighttime pub crawls.  None of the touts had mentioned it and it wasn't on my list. It looked nice.  Twelve hours on an uncomfortable, dingy train had left me delirious (and possibly poisoned from the Chicken Cordon Very Blue) so I took the next bed available.

They handed me a key, a 'Hostel Mostel' Sofia Map and a token for a free drink at a bar they had a partnership with.  They informed me to be ready for free pasta dinner at 7pm, free breakfast in the morning, followed by a free tour at 11am and..."You look tired.  We can store your bags for free."

 Wow.  Serious shit.

Bulgarian Banitsa

I stored my bags, showered, then hit the town in search of a banista lunch.  My Bulgarian artist friend, Kosta Tonev, had told me to try it when I was in his country.  What he had described sounded like Bosnian/Serbian burek, one of my personal favorites.  Sure enough, when I said " banitsa" at nearby cafeteria, the server gave me a plate of phylo dough filled with cheese and spinach and a side of sour yoghourt. I happily devoured everything, bought some Burgasko beers for the evening, then returned to the hostel to go comatose for a few hours.


I woke up in time to watch the sun set, then joined the crowd of backpackers who were waiting for the first-come-first-serve free pasta.  I grabbed my portion then joined a table with a pair of Brazilian ladies to practice my bad Portuguese.  The Portuguese didn't get very far, but we continued chatting.  The good food (and several Burgasko beers) encouraged the social atmosphere.  I brought my guitar and played a few Brazilian tunes.  By the end of dinner we were winding up for a Sofia pub crawl.  It started at the Hostel Mostel bar with our free drink tokens.


Around 11pm our international group walked next door to the Hostel Mostel Bar.  The bar was on the second story and we were greeted with smiles by the bartenders who asked for our HM Tokens.  They knew we were going to have more than just one free shot.  In exchange for the token, we received some strange electric blue mixture which supposedly had rakia in it.  I don't question free booze, so I slammed the shot with the other backpackers, then quickly ordered beers for myself and the Brazilians.  Budget be damned.

A perfect example of "That Guy"

The night went as with many nights out I've had with hostel guests.  First establish where everyone is from and then find out where they've been.  After that it turns into a bragging rights contest to see who has been to the most places or who has the most outlandish, daring travel stories.  If there are Americans present, someone will usually introduce the other nationalities to our drinking games.  A round of Circle of Death was already in progress by the time I had my second beer.  I took it all in stride while chatting up the Brazilians. 

A Bulgarian guy who claimed to be a local said he would take us foreigners on an all-night pub crawl of the best bars of city.  After having our share at the HM Bar, a group of us spilled out onto Makedonia Boulvard in search of the next pub.  The 'local' walked us all around the city to various cool bars - none of which he could find.  We grew tired of wandering with our ignorant 'expert,' and stepped into the nearest place.  It was called Lipstick and it was way too posh for a group of backpackers.  It didn't matter much to me, since by that point one of the Brazilians and I were getting along very well.  We vanished to the second floor of the bar to find some place more private...

Somewhere close to morning we wandered back to the hostel.  Although I paid for my bed that night, I didn't sleep in it.  The 'hostel sex rules' state that you should never do it if you are on the top bunk, because you piss off other roommates from all the rocking noises.  Well, I was leaving the following morning, so I had no need to make any new friends.  The Portuguese lessons were well worth it.  Obrigado e boa noite, Sofia.

A Pub Crawl with no pubs

 

Return To Europe: Vienna Waits For You

Passenger Service
------------------------------------------------------------------------
1 at 21.07.11 SAN JOSE (COSTA RICA) - SANTO DOMINGO
M DE 3235 09:30 - 14:20 (2:50h)
Economy Class
SANTO DOMINGO - FRANKFURT INT.
M DE 3235 15:20 - 06:40 (9:20h)
Economy Class
baggage incl.: 20 kg

They forgot to mention the 4 FUCKING HOUR delay in Santo Domingo.  I do not blame this on Condor Airlines, but rather on the Dominican Republic.  Their idea of efficiency makes Costa Rica look like Switzerland..

Generally flight delays do not bother me, since it gives me more time to drink beer in the airport bars.  German beer of course comes highly recommended worldwide.  For this particular reason a long wait in a German airport is quite exciting after 5 months of crappy, watery Costa Rican beer.

Unfortunately, this time the delay caused me to miss my morning German Rideshare from Frankfurt to Vienna, Austria.  I would have paid 35 Euros for the trip, but had to pay 100 plus Euros for a train trip.  This was already proving to be a horrible "budget backpacker" trip.  I finally arrived in at my Bulgarian friend Kosta Tonev's art studio sometime around 11pm.  Yes, he's a real artist who has had exhibitions all around the world.  I contemplated some of his recent works then passed out...

   

The next day I felt completely refreshed with the knowledge that I was back in Vienna after a year, and I would spend the day with Laura and Kosta, two of my friends from Romania and Bulgaria, respectively.  We meet in the weekend flea market around 4pm right before it closed on Saturday afternoon.  You can find many useful and useless things here for a fine price.  For example, here is a pimping fur coat for under 10 Euros:

Thank you fat guy in the back for making me look more attractive

After fooling around in the market, we got down to catching up on old times.  This was done in true Balkan style.  True Balkan conversation means sitting for hours at a cafe drinking coffee and smoking way too many cigarettes.  Since I was heading to Romania and Bulgaria, they were both very happy to share travel information with me about their countries.  Kosta also tried (unsuccessfully) to teach me how to roll a cigarette properly.  As you can see by his face, he was less than pleased with my final results...

Step 1.

Step 2.

Step...ah, dammit.

Der Wiener Deewan

After smoking a poorly rolled cigarette and sipping strong, black coffee, we strolled through the underground Metro on our way to find a place to eat.  Laura suggested Der Wiener Deewan Restaurant, a small, funky Pakistani buffet on the Liechtenstienstrasse.  Their eating concept was so crazy, Kosta and I did a double-take:

1. Eat as much as you want.

2. Pay as much as you want.

 WHAT? A customer can eat, eat, eat at the buffet and only pay 1 Euro cent.  This would seem like an easy way to make your restaurant go broke, but fortunately most Austrians aren't complete assholes and pay for good food and service when they have it (this would never work in Latin America.)  I settled on 5 Euros for 4 plates of food and still felt guilty.  Deewan also supports itself by charging for the drinks and merchandise.  This is why they've stayed open for almost 10 years now while serving up great Indian buffet-style food...plus you can eat laying down.

 After eating our fill we finished the night with a few beers across the street at Charlie P's Irish Pub.  I had a decent Munich beer and tried in vain again to roll a cigarette.  This one came out as good (or worse) than the first, but who cares when your with good friends.