Lost son

Yesterday I stayed at an unbelievable place: Guest House Preslav in Nesebar, Bulgaria. Arrived early, to have a skype meeting for qlaara in the afternoon. While I was rushing to set up the meeting, the host surprised me with a bowl of delicious beans and a salad. How did she know I hadn't had lunch? "I've seen the likes of you before," she said. In the morning, when I went downstairs to scrape the ice off the bike, there was no need: the host had covered the bike with a blanket. And she even gave me a small present for the new year when leaving. Not to mention the room with a balcony and lots of light and the plentiful breakfast. I really felt like a lost son returned home, not like a hotel guest. Can't remember such thought-reading attention to detail from any guest accommodation, the only thing that might have come close is a five-star hotel in Firenze where I stayed many years ago.

The pic is from Nesebar old town at night. The authentic parts of both Nesebar and Sozopol (the two ancient cities on that stretch of the coast) are charming, which is quite a contrast with the overall industrial scale of the tourism industry here. Sunny Beach (Слънчев бряг) right next to Nesebar, for instance, is a proper 10 km long city of high rise hotels, closed and deserted at this time of the year.