Bulgaria offered many surprises. History and charm of course, but Roman theaters still in use, the golden orbs of Orthodox cathedrals in the night sky, Ottoman courtyards, a modern café scene that felt effortlessly cool and a chance to see Les Mis performed in Bulgarian. More on that later…
Plovdiv – A City Woven Through Time
Plovdiv is Bulgaria’s second-largest city and feels like a living museum. As the oldest continually inhabited city on the planet, over 8,000 years, time is engraved in its cobblestones, weathered walls, the Roman stadium preserved for all time under a modern shopping street!
The Old Town is a storybook waiting to be thumbed through.. pastel Revival-era houses with wooden shutters and painted facades, narrow streets that twist and climb to the top of Nebet Tepe hill.
That first night I walked the city, completely safe even after dark, observing its after-hours beauty.
The Ancient Roman Theatre still hosts concerts and plays against a backdrop of the city skyline.
Down the hill, the Kapana district comes alive after dark, its alleys strung with fairy lights, the scent of grilled kebapche drifting past music-filled bars and cafes.
Lively, warm and very eastern European with an amped up “after sundown” energy.
Sofia – Golden Domes & and a Concert
From Plovdiv, I traveled by motor coach north to Sofia. Framed by Vitosha Mountain, the soul of this beautiful city shines brightest in the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral.
Built between 1882 and 1912 to honor the Russian soldiers who liberated Bulgaria from Ottoman rule, it’s one of the largest Orthodox cathedrals in the world.
I visited on Sunday, staying for part of the three-hour Orthodox mass. Inside, the cavernous space is rich with marble, onyx, and intricate frescoes — the air scented faintly with beeswax candles.
Instead of a traditional alter, the iconostasis is one of the most important architectural features of Orthodox churches. It is an unbroken screen, composed of icons, separating the Sanctuary, where the sacrament of the Eucharist is celebrated, from the central part, the nave, where the congregation stands.
Only church priests, all male and married, are allowed in both sections.
Outside the cathedral I noticed scaffolding and a temporary stage set for that evening’s performance of Les Miserables by the Bulgarian Opera Company. Online, tickets were still available so I enjoyed a brilliant, slightly rain-soaked performance, the musical scores familiar even though sung in Bulgarian.
Sofia’s streets are called the Yellow Brick Road — and literally are paved with golden-hued bricks gifted by Austria-Hungary — leading past the National Assembly and the former Royal Palace, now the National Art Gallery.
Just steps from the cathedral stands Saint Sophia Church, the city’s namesake, dating back to the 6th century. The Banya Bashi Mosque, built during Ottoman rule, still calls worshippers to prayer, while the Russian Church of St. Nicholas gleams in green and gold like a fairy-tale palace.
I walked the main shopping runway, Vitosha Boulevard, animated by its captive pedestrian traffic, and lined with shops.
Later, from a rooftop bar, I watched Sofia’s lights stretch toward the dark outline of the mountains. The contrast is striking — grand 19th-century facades, Soviet-era blocks, and sleek glass towers all sharing the skyline, each representing a different chapter of Bulgaria’s story.
Why It Lingers
In just two cities, Bulgaria presents centuries of history…Plovdiv’s ancient stones warm under the afternoon sun, Sofia’s brilliant day to nightscape. Two cities, each honoring their tangled histories while embracing a a new, optimistic and democratic future.
