Issue 106

Pomorie, a seaside town about 20 kilometres north of Burgas, has now become a concrete labyrinth of high-rise hotels and apartment blocks thronged with Russian tourists and holiday-home owners. It does not sound particularly appealing – but that's only on the surface.

Amidst the dust, sun and crowds of Pomorie, there is a place of eternal silence and an unexplained mystery. To find it, you have to take a sign-posted lane off the congested Burgas-Nesebar road. This lane leads to a lush vineyard and there, hidden inside the cold embrace of a huge mound, is a tomb.

In Bulgaria, he is having an internship in front-end web development with the Magic Solutions company. He is applying for asylum.

Have you experienced special treatment in Bulgaria because you are a foreigner?

Actually, no. I have heard of people having trouble, but I always meet nice people and have never experienced negative thoughts or attitude towards me.

Has Bulgaria surprised you?

Dear Vagabond,

I've been pondering about my dog, our little memento from Bulgaria. Do you know what breeds these Bulgarian street dogs come from? Is it a mix of Scenthound and Karakachan? Or international influence, perhaps German shepherd? I have attached a photo of her – she's a little grey around the snout now – nine years old next month! She doesn't really have any English dog friends, she prefers people. We joke that it's because their barks are foreign to her!

Have you experienced special treatment because you are foreigners?

Nicholas: When we first came here everybody was warm and welcoming, and a lot of the people in the village were very curious what we were constructing. They used to bring us fresh fruit and vegetables, just to try. The difficulty is the language.

Nicola: Sometimes, when we have builders and construction companies, I think they prefer to talk about the technical stuff with Nick.

Is there anything typically Bulgarian?

As usual, use as much of your common sense as you can, throw in a large pinch of salt, and treat with at least of modicum of humour. Remember: It ain't over till the fact lady sings!

PERSONAL RELATIONS

1.

One evening, two weeks before loan sharks would chase him away into the unknowable depths of Indonesia, Frankie's father sat and sighed at the dinner table. It was the round marble table with a Lazy Susan, stained with sesame and chili oil-spills.

"What's wrong?" Frankie asked, doubled over, hands above his knees. He was breathless and sweaty from running up and down the alleyway, chasing the fat brown dog with the lolling tongue.

Frankie's father sat frowning at his left palm.