Sofia, Bulgaria, April 2006

In his classic 1930s spy thriller "A Coffin for Dmitrios," Eric Ambler paints Sofia as a capital of Balkan intrigue, rife with political assassination, illicit drug deals and boites de nuits where unsuspecting visitors are lured by cheap champagne and Armenian dancing girls.

Sofia has moved on. Today the Bulgarian capital stands on the threshold of the European Union; its golden youth shop for Gucci shades and La Perla knickers among the designer temples that line Vitosha Bd. and the one-time communist backwater promotes itself as Europe hottest new nightlife destination.

Under the brash nouveau-riche facade, Sofia manages to retain a sense of the decadent charm of Ambler's city which has survived the intervening decades of war, Soviet-domination and the new capitalist excess. The master of suspense would have appreciated the "no firearms" signs on the doors of restaurants and the frisking by burly, cropped hair bouncers outside the more discerning nightclubs.

Stand at the top of Maria-Luiza Bd, and Sofia's turbulent history in the cultural confusion of Balkans is clear to see. On one side is the conical minaret of the mosque left behind after 500 years of Ottoman rule. Peaking over the roof of the central market is Europe's largest Sephardic synagogue, a testament to Bulgaria's efforts to save its Jewish community from the Nazis. Just up the road are the Byzantine domes of the old Sveta Nedeyla orthodox church.

The cultural diversity is reflected in Bulgarian cuisine where deep rooted Turkish traditions blend with Mediterranean and central European influences. Carnivores will delight in the quality of the grilled meat, but fresh salads, marinated vegetables and great yoghurt dips will recall the Aegean islands. Dill and pickled cucumbers mix with sweet peppers and fresh tomato. The olives are great. In the central market, the dense, blood-red salamis could come from Hungary, while next door gleaming slabbrinyriney white cheese and honey soaked pastries are more Athens or Istanbul.

Bulgaria finally broke free from Turkish rule in 1878 after Russia took its side in a bloody war against the declining Ottoman empire. That conflict led to construction of Sofia's best known landmark, the The Alexander Nevski cathedral. This neo-Byzantine pile rises up over the city in four tiers of domes, arches and gilded cupolas. It commemorates the fallen in the Russian-led armies that secured Bulgaria's independence. From the outside it's imposing sight, inside it is awe-inspiring. The vast vaulted space is dimly lit with few candles and low-voltage yellow bulbs just revealing the mural-covered walls. Devout Sofians on their way to work in the mornings will pop in for a quiet prayer. In the crypt lies the national icon collection.

A further reminder of Bulgaria's complicated history is the nearby Russian church. A fantasy of golden onion domes and colourful gilt facades. It was built in honour of Tsar Nicholas II just before the First World War, when Bulgaria sided with Germany against the Russians.

Around the cathedral is a fascinating jumble of market stalls selling a sometimes bizarre selection of potential souvenirs ranging from delicately woven cotton table covers and the rainbow shaded kilims to antique broaches, reproduction icons and Soviet era bric-a-brac _ Red Army vodka flasks seem to be particularly popular. One trader was offering selection of old violins and accordions.

Bulgaria's rush to join the West has thrown up some uncomfortable contrasts. The level of poverty can be shocking for a European capital, alongside signs of all too ostentatious new-found wealth for a sometimes dodgy few. Battered Trabants battle for parking space on the city's beleaguered pavements with huge black BMWs. Ragged gypsy kids scavenge through rubbish bins outside the chic designer stores. Tales of official corruption and organized crime are hair-raising.

The country's transition to European mainstream can catch visitors out. A German colleague forgot he was leaving the EU and arrived without his passport. He ended up spending 27 hours detained at the airport. It's also best to be on your guard against the currency traders aiming to buy euros in the street or taxi touts at the airport. A British friend paid 40 leva (20 euro) to get into town, more than four times the normal rate charged by the official yellow cabs lined up outside departures.
Another tip: try to learn a bit of the Cyrillic alphabet. It could help enormously helpful just to follow street signs so you can find your way around. For example, it's much easier to find Khan Asparuh street, if you know the sign you're looking for is: yл. Xaн Acnapyx.

While Winter can be grim and summer an inferno, spring provides the best opportunity to enjoy Sofia's abundant greenery. Even the narrowest side street seems to be lined by trees, and stately horse chestnuts _ blooming in April _ cast their shade on the many broad avenues of the centre. Leafy squares and gardens abound. Open air cafes fill city parks, and restaurants and bars all seem to have verdant gardens hidden behind them. Above it all looms the Vitosha mountain range whose forest-covered slopes and snowy peaks rise up above the southern suburbs. There is first class skiing less than an hour's drive from the city centre.

Tucked away on a wooded hillside about 10 kilometres south of town is the Boyana church _ Sofia's hidden gem. The little Orthodox chapel is unassuming from the outside, but duck through the door and you find a treasure trove of medieval murals telling the story of St. Nicholas. The paintings date back to the 13th century, some are even older. A taxi out there cost about 8 leva (4 euros), but it might be worth asking the driver to wait, because finding a ride back could be difficult. It's a charming spot, the church is surrounded by a peaceful garden planted with towering 100-year old sequoias. The Church is locked and you have to ask the guide and the even older gatekeeper to let you in. I arrived just after opening time at 9.30 am. and had the place to myself _ a rare experience at a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Monkish Mixed Grill

Manastirska Magernitsa is a perfect introduction to Bulgarian food.
The "monastery cook house" at 67 Khan Asparuh street is an elegant yellow-painted 19th century town house set back from the street in a little garden.
Spread through several small rooms, the restaurant is chock-a-block with Bulgarian folk art. There was a throaty young woman belting out tunes accompanied by an accordion player, and bashful waitresses in folksy outfits. Despite all this, it just about stayed on the right side of kitch, and it was reassuring that most of the dinners were Bulgarian.
The menu was daunting, running to over 30 pages of traditional dishes rendered into unlikely English.
The owners have a mission to gather up old recipes from the Orthodox monasteries that are dotted around Bulgaria. Its slogan is: "161 Bulgarian monasteries, 161 Bulgarian recipes."
When the task of perusing them all became too much, the waitress suggested we followed her into a side room where haunches of lamb, veal and pork roasted over glowing embers. With a mixed grill and a selection of salads and appetizers we were set up.
First she brought soft, sesame-coated bread accompanied by a wooden bowl of spiced salt.
This is a traditional start to a meal and went down a treat with the first glasses of the red-fruit-packed "No Man's Land" wine _ from vineyards on what was once the barbed-wire covered Cold War frontier with Greece and Turkey.
The platter of starters included Shopska salad _ a Sofia dish involving tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper and onion and covered with a grated, hard _ pecorino like _ sheep's cheese.
There was garlicky marinated aubergine, and creamy balls of thick yoghurt, some mixed with soft cheese, others containing cucumber and still more garlic _ very satisfying, and surprisingly healthy.
The meat came in great juicy hunks. This was expert barbecuing. A selection of roast vegetables on the side, including a round of grilled beetroot which gave a refreshing slant on a much-maligned root.
Desserts include some more of that creamy yoghurt with nuts and honey and a rich carrot and lemon cake called "Grandma Teta's treat," (or something similar, my recollection of the latter stages of the meal are a bit hazy due to all that No Man's Land).
Great Turkish coffee and some fine Bulgarian brandy elaborately warmed at the table.
This was a very good meal _ the best I was to have during my stay, although be warned it's expensive by Sofia standards. http://www.magernitsa.com

The tranquillity out at Boyana contrasts with down town Sofia, which seems always to be abuzz with the locals' devotion to street life. Sofians love to pass the time over a coffee or beer and the city must have one of the highest ratios of cafes. Some are simple hole-in-the-wall places where passers-by gulp plastic cuts of espresso on the hoof, others belong to tacky chains, but there are an extraordinary number of agreeable places, either boasting hip design or some old world charm.

The triangle of narrow streets between the Vitosha, Graf Ignatiev, and Evlogi Georgiev boulevards seems to have the highest concentration of interesting bars, restaurants and boutiques.

Art'Otel

To overnight, the Art'Otel on Gladstone street just off Vitosha is a good choice right among the bars and restaurants of the district and a short walk to most of the cultural highlights. It's spanking new and the rooms, though small, are comfortable and relatively stylish. Over 60 TV channels to chose from, well-stocked minibar, and smiling staff. Breakfast includes a selection of local cheeses and cold meats, great yoghurt with a choice of four different types of honey, a big stodgy apple and walnut cake, baked apples and the warm, white-cheese filled pastry called Banitsa which is a national nibble. Pity about the bland industrial orange juice, lukewarm coffee and lousy tea, but all-in-all worth the 95 euro a night. www.artotel.biz.

The bars serve some interesting takes on beer snacks. In one called Divaka, they had none of the very drinkable local lagers, but the Staropraman came with broccoli in a garlic and dill sauce and deep fried red peppers stuffed with feta-like white cheese. In another place, our beers were accompanied with a plate of better-fried fresh cepes. It's a long way from pork scratchings.

Coffee culture is big in Bulgaria. One place at the top-end of Vitosha asked if I wanted my espresso from Illy, Lavazza or Segafredo beans! If your trip takes you to the thoroughly ugly National Palace of Culture _ a 70s style Communist throwback once named after the wife of dictator Todor Zhivkov _ you might want to escape to the nearby ChillOut Cafe which is a trendy haven for the city's young and beautiful, and serves a tasty snack of pancakes stuffed with chicken, bacon, pickled cucumber, dill and garlic sauce. www.chilloutbg.com.

Mahaloto

Bulgaria has produced wine since the ancient Thracians and is proud of the fact that the newly independent state in the 1870s introduced laws governing wine production even before it passed the constitution. To try them you can do worse than the Mahaloto restaurant on the corner of Vasil Levski Bd. and Garf Ignatiev Bd. This cosy, brick-lined basement, decorated with saucy French underwear adds from the 1920, is renowned its selection of wines, notably the powerful reds for which Bulgaria is justly famous. We tasted quite a few here before settling on a Merlot produced by the famed Todoroff winery in the south.
The atmosphere is intimate and jazzy, with Cesaria Evora and some other
gently Latin grooves on the sound system. The menu mixes "international"
standards and Bulgarian grills and has some vegetarian choices.
There are good salads to start _ I had a plate of grilled aubergines, peppers and courgettes in some light olive oil. Then pork in a creamy dill and garlic sauce with mushrooms.
Deserts were forgettable, but the coffee and rakia _ a Balkan fruit eau-de-vie rather than the anise-flavoured Turkish raki _ were good. A three course meal with a bottle of wine each (!) came to about 40 leva (20 euro) a head.

And so to Sofia's notorious nightlife. We ended up in Tiffany's, a club just off Vitosha Bd. This had been recommended by some locals as THE happening place. After getting cleared by security and dodging through the SUV's double parked on he pavement, we find ourselves in a vast lounge packed with muscular lads in skin tight Armani T-shirts and bevies of scantily clad beauties sipping mohitos to a thumping techno beat. I'm not sure if any of the girls were Armenian, but taking my lead from Ambler's hero it seemed best to play safe, so after downing a bottle of over-warm Becks I turned and headed out into the night.

Reading

Apart from "A Coffin for Dimitrios" where the plot lingers a while in Sofia on its way from Istanbul to Paris, Eric Ambler set another of his thrillers in the Bulgarian capital _ "Judgement on Deltchev."
Malcolm Bradbury's "Rates of Exchange" and Julian Barnes' "The
Porcupine" take Communist Sofia as their inspiration.
Books by Bulgarian writers are hard to come by in English. One entertaining work is "Natural Novel" by Georgi Gospodinov, a tale of intellectual angst in modern Sofia. Another is the 19th century national epic "Under the Yoke," by Ivan Vazov which is set amid the struggle to throw off Turkish rule.