Nessabar, Nessebur, Nessubor – And the Te of Travel

There are as many ways it seems to spell Nessebur as there are tourists on the beach. Take your pick (of names I mean – not tourists.) I am writing this from a lounge chair next to the “OMG I can't believe it is that colour blue” Black Sea. The waves are lapping, the seagulls are chatting it up and high up on the cliffs the tiled roofs of a thousand delicious, inexpensive restaurants await. Sounds ideal doesn't it? It is and it is nothing like we were expecting. If you've been to Mexico you get a bit of that feel but because we are in Eastern Europe there is that spin on things – kinda wary, sort of tolerant of tourists. Still, we have had more smiles here than in most places we have been. And compared to Ireland for example it is very reasonably priced.
And to think that this leg of the trip began so badly.

We started out from Budapest early (2:00 am) and caught a crowded flight to Nessabar. One and a half hours later we were in Varna, Bulgaria – surely the ugliest Post Communist town we have seen so far. We were met (at the time we thought it was great) by a taxi driver with our name on a card. Off we went in a very nice van for a two hour drive to Nessabor (note I am using all the spellings just to be fair.) We both did the head-nod sleep thing, occasionally waking to look around with dismay at the thick fog which hung over everything. NO, NO we need sun, lying by the beach etc...
When we drove up to the Sol Royal Nessabur Palace (note the name) we were both very pleased. By now the sun was gleaming off the glass walls of the very new looking hotel. The driver dragged our bags out and then waited while AJ went to make change for Euros. He insisted on Euros rather than Bulgarian currency which was unusual – it gets better. We rolled inside to register only to be met with bemused looks and “You say you have a reservation?” Yes, AJ insised. No they said you are at another hotel – The Nessabar Royal Palace Hotel. It is in old Nessabar. It was at this point I think that I lost it. I could feel my Gojevic blood rising – a combination of sleep deprivation, and just too much damn “dealing with things.” Up until now I have always reverted to smiling Canadian when difficulties arose now I became the “Angry Woman.” While AJ Skyped Out on our computer and talked to the booking agent I kept shouting things like, “Idiots, what the hell is wrong with you etc..” I was abrupt with the new taxi driver sent to take us to the right hotel and so it continued. The new taxi driver said very helpfully, “Why you leave this hotel, it very nice other not so nice.” Well it turns out he didn't know where “other” was. We drove around Old Nessabur and he kept asking very uninterested people where the hotel was. No one knew, lots of shrugs. He muttered to himself - “where it??” We were relieved when he finally drove up to a very new hotel with a Lamborghini parked in front. Always a good sign. Like lots of Chinese people in a Chinese restaurant – you know it must be good. And it is. There are a few funny bits. No elevator – we are on the third floor – lights that shut on as you approach and shut off the minute you pass them by – piped in early 80's bo band music in the bathroom and some of the strangest breakfasts we have ever had. Yesterday, after our difficult arrival we just wanted a bite to eat. Breakfast is included in the deal. I ordered french toast – something I know and like. It arrived – is was two piece of hot bread sandwiched together with blue cheese. I guess the blue cheese was the the french part. I wanted to weep. This morning I ordered fruit and got a plate with a whole bananna, a not quite ripe kiwi, an orange and an apple. “There you go, knock yourself out.” The wee melt down yesterday was really me being was mad at myself. I coulda, shoulda read the hotel voucher which had the correct hotel name in very small print. But sadly as in most cases I just defered to AJ. The truth is the whole vacation was jointly discussed and planned but ultimatley AJ did the bookings. We have always done it that way and 99% of the time it works. It works because we have a tacit agreement that AJ chooses and I don't bitch. As I said it has always worked. I broke the rules. You breaks da' rules you pays da' price. In this case really high blood pressure that took a few hours to dispel and a drink of white wine by the waters edge.

Many times, in many churches we have read about the years it took for such and such a guy or gal to receive sainthood. So many miracles, so many cured lepers. I am personally suggesting sainthood for AJ after yesterdays “situation” and the countless other times he has assuaged, calmed, and generally cared so well for me.

'Nuff said. We are here in Nessabur. AJ is beisde me reading the final pages of A Prayer for Owen Meany. The two large ladies beside us are doing Bulgarian crosswords and all the little blue and white fishing skiffs are bumping gently against each other tied up to the restaurant we will probably go to later for a little refreshment. What a difference a day makes.

Which brings me (yes finally) to the Te part of the travel. I have been re-reading The Te of Piglet (by the fellow who wrote the Tao of Poo.) And then it struck me –AJ and I need/want to be more Te like in our travels. Taoism is about an individual's relationship to the world. The Te part of Taoism (my interpetation) is about virtue in action. Sounds religious – isn't – we are both generally anti-religion. It is more about alllowing oneself to be transformed. That's what we are hoping for. An opening up, and a letting go. There is so much to hang onto that sometimes gets in the way of truly enjoying life. Maybe, as we are away from all things familiar we will “transform.” Not that you won't recognize us on our return but changes are bound to occur – we are both hoping they are good ones.