Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, and… warm cheese banitsa were just a few of my favorite things as I traveled through little-known Bulgaria in August 2007 with Jim Gold International Folk Tours. Our group, which included (but was not limited to!) folk dancers, musicians, and singers, danced through the country--on mountain tops, in hotel lobbies, taverns, and folk festivals between visits to historic sites.

Jim’s “Mad Shoe Tour” to the ancient, beautiful, and mysterious Bulgaria, often referred to by investors as the “undiscovered gem of Europe,” included overnight stays in Sofia, Bansko, Pamporovo, Plovdiv, Veliko Turnovo, and Koprivshtitsa—all centuries-old cities few Americans have heard of. The itinerary included singing workshops and dancing; scenic drives through four mountain ranges; and stops at spas, Thracian tombs, and monasteries. But the chief draw for most would be Bulgaria’s folklore—dancing, singing, and eating with the festively-clad locals. Folklore, after all, was the heart and soul of Bulgaria. I had known about Jim’s folk tours since 1994, after attending writing workshops with him and reading his series of books on his travels, all entitled A New Leaf. “Folklore is alive and hidden in little-known countries such as Bulgaria, Slovakia, Bohemia, and Romania,” he had written, “or along the less traveled paths of known countries like Greece, Turkey, Israel, and Italy.” Someday I’d go with him, I always promised myself.

Jim told me Bulgaria was one of his favorite destinations—this would be his ninth trip there. “It’s gorgeous, historic, has rich folklore, and wonderful people. It’s also the best bargain in Europe.”

Magical. Mysterious. Undiscovered and inexpensive.

I did some research on the Internet. “Undiscovered” Bulgaria is roughly the size of Ohio , shares borders with Romania , Turkey , and Greece , has four seasons, and has everything (mountains, prairies, seashore) but deserts. It also became part of the European Union in January 2007.

European tourist bureaus consider it “the next Croatia ” due to Europeans who flock there in the summer to soak in the sun along the two-hundred miles of Black Sea beaches, and return in the winter to ski at one of Bulgaria ’s numerous ski resorts. The two most famous ones, Bansko and Pamporovo, were both on Jim’s itinerary.  With four mountain ranges, Bulgaria , I read, had been a contender for the 2014 winter Olympics.

To prepare for the trip and get a sense of Eastern European music and dance, I attended Jim’s Monday night beginner folk dance classes, held in neighboring Englewood , New Jersey . All the veteran dancers were welcoming, and with their encouragement, and Jim’s “just do it” and “watch my feet” philosophy of teaching, I caught on quickly to the simple village dances. The music, a mix of sensual Israeli, Greek, Macedonian, Turkish, and Bulgarian dances, was wonderful. The Bulgarian dances, with their irregular rhythms and fast crossing steps, were among the more challenging, but also the most exhilarating. By August, I was transformed from eight months of folk dancing and eagerly awaited departure.

Our group came from all over the US and Canada . Thirteen were from the New York metropolitan area; others were active in folk dance groups from Colorado , Pennsylvania , North Carolina , Tennessee , Minnesota , Oklahoma , and Montana . Although Bulgaria was still a mystery to me, many in the group were familiar with the songs, the musical instruments, and the dances of the country. Half of the group had traveled with Jim before.

The unique nature of our group did not become evident until we dined in the garden of the Bor Restaurant, on the outskirts of Sofia , located in a pine forest at the entrance of the Vitosha Mountain National Park . Nearby was the scenic Vladaya gorge.

Just minutes after taking our places at the tables, the live music (accordion and keyboard) and folk dance entertainment (four young dancers in folk costume) began. After a half hour of energetic dancing, the young performers, but not the old musicians, took a break. The dance floor was finally free.

Daniela Ivanova, a Bulgarian dance choreographer who lives in Sofia , joined us for dinner. She arose from her table and began to dance a pravo horo. Within seconds, half our group was on the dance floor, hands joined. All knew the music, and the steps. Jim extended a hand to my cousin Kelly, who had never folk-danced, and she happily pushed aside her Shopska salad to join the merriment. The others needed no prompting. As I watched in amazement, our group morphed into Mad Shoe travelers as they joined hands and danced a lively kopanitza. It was just as Jim had described them in his book!

  Our group occupied half the tables in the restaurant’s outdoor garden. A multi-generational group of Bulgarians celebrating a birthday had pulled the remaining tables together for their party. Daniela beckoned to them to join us; several, including the children and their grannies, left their broiled trout and kebabcha behind to dance and sing with us. Young and old--all danced with Mad Shoes! I recalled reading these words from Jim’s book. “Folk dancing with others is collective ecstasy.” How true!

“Where are you from?” the Bulgarian woman holding my right hand asked in heavily-accented English. By then, the entire room, Americans and Bulgarians, on its feet, undulating in unison, resembled a giant glowworm.

She expressed surprise, not only that we were from America , but that we knew Bulgarian folk dances and the words to their songs. She would not be the first. Every place we visited, the locals were impressed and proud that we shared a love of their folk culture.

  Bulgaria is a land where traces of ten civilizations have been discovered. These include the first pre-historic civilizations in Europe , Thracian, Macedonian, Greek, Roman, Persian, Slav, Bulgar, Byzantine and Islam cultures. Traders, invaders, and crusaders have come and gone, leaving death and destruction in their wake. Modern Bulgaria is built on the artifact-filled rubble left behind.

We visited the National History Museum outside Sofia, one of the largest on the Balkan Peninsula , home to many of these artifacts. Over 650,000 exhibits (22,000 on display) span six thousand years of Bulgarian history.

We were fortunate to see the world-famous collection of fourth-century B.C. Thracian gold treasures, which had just returned from Switzerland in July, and would be leaving for Japan in October. Delicate crowns of oak leaves, stunning necklaces and earrings, a king’s mask, rosettes from horse’s harnesses--all solid gold, discovered by farmers in their gardens and fields. A museum guard who spoke English told me the Discovery Channel was producing a two-hour documentary on the Thracian gold civilization and the work of Bulgarian museums and archaeologists. National Geographic had also published an article in December 2006 entitled “ Bulgaria ’s Gold Rush.” It referred to Bulgaria as El Dorado due to its vast trove of buried gold treasures.

Our trip was full of surprises and serendipities, and veterans of Jim Gold folk tours claim that’s why they travel with him. Paul Kerlee, the retired musicologist from New York , who had been on Jim’s first trip to Bulgaria , carries his tape recorder whenever he travels with Jim “because you just never know what surprises he has up his sleeve.”

Kerlee had his tape recorder on hand when we visited the quaint village of Kovachevtsi to attend a singing workshop with Kremena Stancheva, a soloist with the famous woman’s group “Le Mystere des Voix Bulgares.” (One Mystery, Many Voices). The group began recording in the eighties, and their second recording, in 1990, won a Grammy. This ensemble of twenty-four women got its start in 1952, when the father of Bulgarian concert folk music, Philip Koutev, founded the Bulgarian State Radio and Television Female Vocal Choir, made up of the best singers from the rural regions of Bulgaria . The songs these descendents of the legendary Orpheus sing are known for their striking harmonies, exciting rhythmic effects, and haunting melodies. In fact, one popular and haunting Rhodopa folksong, "Izlel e Delyu Haidutin," sung by Valya Balkanska, was part of the Voyager Golden Record selection of music included in the two Voyager spacecraft launched in 1977.

Upon arriving in Kovachevtsi, our bus was met by a welcoming party led by the energetic, octogenarian Yagoda, its proud mayor for the past twelve years. Barely four feet tall, she gave Jim a “welcome back” hug and began eagerly conversing with him.

Before each trip, Jim studies the language of the country, just so he can banter like this with the locals, who clearly love him for making the good-natured attempt at conversation. He’s studied over thirty languages since starting his tour business twenty-five years ago. Even though he’s been to Bulgaria eight times, he began taking private Bulgarian lessons again, back in January. Weeks before departure, he e-mailed all his tourists a list of common Bulgarian words and phrases, including blagodarya (thank you), eez-ven-ee-teh (excuse me), dobar den (good afternoon), dobro utro (good day morning) and otlitchno (excellent!).

Kremena demonstrated the mystery of the Bulgarian voice by singing folk songs from the seven folklore regions in Bulgaria : Rodopo, Macedonian, Shopska, Thracian, northern Bulgaria , northeast Bulgaria , and Strandja (eastern Thracian region). It was one thing for her to talk about “the mystery of the Bulgarian voice.” It was quite another to hear it! Kremena’s powerful, haunting voice was awe-inspiring; it sent shivers through our collective spines.

Between songs, she described them. “Our songs are about village life,” she said, “the rituals of courtship, marriage, working in the fields, raising children, and coping with life’s challenges. The primary theme, however, is love.” 

After the singing workshop, our group was led back to Kremena’s singing school, formerly her grandfather’s tavern, where we took seats at one of the tables that overflowed with dishes of food. The room was festively decorated with wall hangings, rugs, and folk costumes.

We were served a delicious, traditional Bulgarian lunch of kavarma meatballs, boiled kartofi (potatoes), pulneni shushski (peppers stuffed with cheese), bread, yogurt and Bulgarian wine. We learned that Kremena’s family and neighbors helped make it; it had taken a week to prepare all the food! We were overwhelmed by the hospitality, graciousness, and generosity of Kremena’s family and the townspeople, who kept bringing more dishes to the table.

 Our next stop was Rila Monastery. Stefan noted that, while western Europe was busy building castles for their rulers, Bulgaria had built monasteries to not only protect the locals from invaders, but also to educate them, and preserve the Bulgarian language, religion, culture, traditions and spirit through the five dark centuries under the Ottoman empire. These monasteries, which were built in remote areas in the mountains, were refuges for monks, mystics, artists, and Bulgarian freedom fighters. In the libraries of monasteries the books were written and re-written. For those who couldn’t read, the stories were painted on the walls.

 A highlight was our trip to the mysterious village of Dobarsko…where two smiling, wrinkled babi, all decked out in their vibrant red, white, and green folk dresses, and multi-colored wool knee socks, awaited us at the entrance to the village. Jim jumped off the bus to greet them and was soon engulfed in their outstretched arms and cries of “Jeem!” Grabbing his hand, they led us, smiling wide the entire time, by foot, through the village to a private home behind walls. There, ten more colorfully clad and smiling babi extended a traditional Bulgarian welcome of pogacha and chubritsa (homemade bread dipped in savoury, a blend of salt and local herbs). A sprig of wild geranium to place over our ears completed the greeting, as well as ajran, a homemade yogurt drink to wash down the bread. The spokeswoman for the effervescent Dobarski Babi told us, through our translator Stefan, that they’ve won numerous gold medals at Bulgarian folk festivals, and for that reason their nickname was “the Golden Girls!”

Before long, the babi, whose ages ranged from seventy to perhaps a hundred, began singing their village folk songs, and once again we were treated to the mysteries of the Bulgarian voice, in twelve-part harmony, full of wild yips and ecstatic yowls. Many a gold tooth flashed as they joyfully executed their repertoire on the veranda, then joined hands with us to dance a Rodopsko horo. Soon the whole veranda was filled with dancers.

 That evening was our Pirin Mountain Picnic at Chalin’s Farm.  Our bus ascended the winding, mountain road through the sun-kissed clouds until the road went no further. After climbing off the bus, we followed Jim on a path through an enchanted, primeval pine forest, inhaling the fresh Pirin mountain air and remarking on the millions of glistening water droplets hanging from the pine needles. Acres of diamonds! Finally, we reached the summit of a grassy mountain clearing that, when it emerged from the mist, it caught us by surprise. The view was beyond breathtaking!

We were met at the top of the clearing by a welcome party of three male musicians, who festively played the accordion, tupan, (drum) and clarinet, while two women, in full folk costume, extended the traditional welcome of bread, salt, and wild geranium leaves. Two men offered a sip of rakia from a metal pot. The wonderful smell of grilling kebabche beckoned us to make our way cautiously down the wet clearing, toward the wooden huts, where our Chalin’s Farm picnic dinner would soon be served. A group of Dutch tourists arrived shortly after us. The musicians followed us down the mountain, playing continuously as we took our seats at the tables. When the two women began singing the beautiful Macedonian song Ako Umram Il' Zaginam (If I Die), Toba began singing along. The singers and musicians were astonished that she knew the words.

For many in our group, the desire to dance took precedence over food and drink. So when the band began playing a hypnotic Macedonian lesnoto oro, the bread, wine, and snezhanka were quickly abandoned.

After a few spirited forest dances, Jim approached the German group and asked their vivacious, red-haired Bulgarian guide Sonia if her group would like to join us in our mountain dance. At first, he was greeted with cheerful neins, but within minutes, a handful of Germans, after grasping the graciousness of his gesture, left their pork cutlets and boiled potatoes to join in our forest dancing. Soon everyone was up dancing, unable to resist the call of fun. Knowing the dance steps was helpful, but not required--all moved in the same direction, hands joined, caught up in the spirit of the moment--a Pirin Mountain moment.

We danced through the dusk and twilight, until only the moon illuminated our mountain clearing. 

According to the Greek philosopher Democritus, life without festivals is like a long journey without rest stops. Bulgaria is known for its many folk festivals, and many in the group were looking forward to the “grand finale” of the trip, the one in Koprivshtitsa. Emily, Polly, and Julia had purchased aprons, socks, blouses, and belt buckles at antique stores in Plovdiv and Veliko Turnovo; all looked forward to dancing in costume at the festival.

Bulgarians have festivals for every occasion, but Koprivshtitsa was the mother of all Bulgarian festivals—so big that it’s only held every five years over a three-day weekend in August, in the meadows on the outskirts of town.

Jim assured us that, even though it was an “off year,” there would still be plenty of local performers; instead of the meadows, they’d perform in the town square. And sure enough, as we stepped off our bus at the first hotel, we could hear the sound of music down the street.

Koprivshtitsa, like most villages we’d visited in Bulgaria , was high in the mountains, the Sredna Gora, bisected by a fast-moving mountain river, the Topolnitsa, and was an architectural reserve of exquisite, restored homes from the Bulgarian National Revival period. This was the eighth, and final, museum town we’d visit on our trip. The others had been Bansko, Veliko Turnovo, Etura, Tryavna, Old Plovdiv, Arbanassi, and Shiroka Luka.

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