... and on to Vratsa via London's underground system.

After our prolonged stay in Popitsa due to me sampling our neighbours excellent raki and wine, we set off towards our final destination - Vratsa. Unfortunately, the navigator - namely me, had by this time lost the thread. Instead of returning to the main road at Byala Slatina and taking the road N013 to Borovan and then the No15 straight into Vratsa, I chose to indicate to the driver, my son, that we should continue straight ahead. It soon became evident that the road surface had deteriorated somewhat, as due to the many potholes, it was necessary to constantly zigzag from one side of the road to the other. Already feeling the effects of our neighbour's hospitality, whilst discussing the intricate workings of a rusty lock, (see last post) together with the passage of the car, I found that the map kept leaping out of my hands. Everytime I retrieved it to give further directions to the driver, it took on the appearance of the Piccadilly line in London's underground system. At one point I could have sworn that I saw a herd of buffalos crossing the road in front of us. The next moment, I swear I saw John Wayne walking towards us, leading his horse.

Oh - that RAKI!
We continued our meanderings for some considerable time until my son, a teatotaller, lost his patience, grabbed the map and changed directions. At this point I fell into a deep slumber. When I awoke, I was convinced that I was going blind as the daylight had been replaced by the darkest night. In fact, a mighty storm had developed, someway ahead over the mountains. A fantastic display of nature's power. Take a look at these photographs. Click to enlarge. Allow me to show you something of Vratsa in my next post.