The last time we arrived to Sofia, we thought there was a power outage. We drove into Bulgaria’s capital and wondered why the lights weren’t on. It had been a long drive on minor highways made longer by horse and carriages and stray dog posses. This time, after nearly twenty four hours of traveling from the United States of America via Roma, we flew in over a shining city. Perhaps because it was day light, we were less skeptical of the supply of electricity. Everything looked like it must work and, if didn’t, who needed it. We arrived to a perfectly glittering Spring city.
At the airport we were warmly received by the same folks who brought us just a few months ago and assured immediately of good meals to come. They remember our favourite dishes from last time and know the cures of jet lag and “barely food” airplane fare. After checking into the grand and schwank Metropolitan, we are whisked into a buzzing city that seems on fire from the good weather. As if everyone is out to watch it blaze. In a festive way. High spirits. In an open air courtyard, we eat garlicy grilled pork and shopska salad and try to remember a few Bulgarian phrases with the wait staff. We are kindly rewarded for our best efforts with a little jug of home-made booze distilled by the owner’s mother.
We feel very ready to slumber away all the weariness of travel.
And we do. We sleep past noon. And by the time we’re slipping out of bed to meet Svetan and Svetoslav and the rest, we feel wholly returned to normalcy. Cured by the kindest folks and the best meal possible.
For a number of hours we hang out, chatting about politics and music and the politics of music. Then we soundcheck painlessly at a rad punk club and then taxi to the home of a pal. We drink vodka juices on her balcony as the sun lowers itself after a day of hard work on a perfectly beautiful Sofia. It feels actually heavenly.
Our super close pals and label mates No Age arrive and we all feel such immediate joy to finally be in the Balkans together. It’s been a long time that I’d been convincing them of the utter perfect insanity we’ve experienced touring here.
And the show that we share with them is so mindblowingly crazy I feel they will be convinced forever.
I sneak in some underage girls and we hang out with fans at a nearby street food vendor, taking turns feeding the owner’s pooch.
By the time we take stage the place is packed and ready to dance. We throw ourselves into it. And by the time No Age take stage, we are the first in the circle pit. Dan and I dance and mosh with our pals and fans, screaming at the top of our lungs. We love you No Age and we love you Bulgaria.
We top the night off at a little restaurant, swapping emails with new folks and toasting with heavy glasses of red wine.
Thank you for every delicious minute.