Romania 101 - Bucharest

It has happened ! Really ! Ukulele Road Trips (my two ukuleles, my backpack and me) has finally made it to a new country. Really ! We got the credits for the previous class, only just, and we're now roaming (or rowing, as you will see in the video) in Romania. Yes, Romania.

Starting of course, as anybody would on a musical-blogging ukulele adventure, with the capital, Bucharest.

And to discover and learn about this intriguing city, you can listen to the Bucharest PODCAST, recorded with locals, helping you take your first steps with the Romania language, history and basic techniques for moving churches. This is Romania 101 ! A bit like PowerPoint presentation on the first day of school, except with rapping, songs and jokes. And no PowerPoint presentation.

"Come on, give is a song then!" - Outside the Bucharest Athaneum

One of the things you've probably taken notes about while studying the podcast, is that Bucharest used to be called "the little Paris". And not without reason. Here's a little explanation in walk-about sing-along song which would fit perfectly between two slides with colourful charts about demography and the consumption of croissants and wine in Romania.

The Cișmigiu Park (pronounced Chiche - mi - gou if you trying to sound French in the 1890s) is one the defining parks of that particular period. "This Viennese Chap Meyer" was the horticulturist in charge of most of the park as it acquired it's high-society status during the second part of the XIXth century. The very elegant style of his planting can still be felt today. "As we walk through the trees",  we really get the old-fashioned feel in the Chichemigou park. Boats, ducks, name signs that look just like the ones in Paris...

As for "Thierry's Restaurant",  it was an actual french-owned place, quite charming from what I've read - so, exactly the opposite of the restaurant which is now there, funnily enough (little hello to the comically unfriendly staff - it is worth a "glass of white wine", it's hilarious, and definitely gives it a certain Frenchness).

The Bulgaria Album !

A new post ! Lots of things to talk about in this one, but let's first take a short moment to relax, and get to an optimal reading mind-set, with ... this picture of an Orthodox priest rokin' my blue ukulele, at the St. Dimitar Basarabovski (St.D for short.) Rock Monastery, 

Okay. Perfect. Let us start.

As you may have (absolutely not at all) noticed, there hasn't been a post and song or a podcast in a while. Well, I've been very busy putting my best efforts into making a sort of end product to my Bulgarian adventure, the first country visited by Ukulele Road Trips. And down in the basement of Yo Ho Hostel in Varna, I've come up with... wait for it... the Bulgaria Album ! [insert imaginary enthusiastic fans here]

It is sort of a big deal on these travels; all the songs, recorded, arranged with ukuleles, drums; pianos, lots of voices, and even a kazoo ! which will hopefully convince you to get this Backpacking Ukuleleling set of songs. You would also be helping me to continue the adventure, because the postcard thing really isn't picking up. I'm not saying one every three weeks is a bad average, it's just that it's not sustainable-making material. So,

Ben's Ukulele Road Trips - THE BULGARIA ALBUM !!

Get the Bulgaria Album on BandCamp

Get the Bulgaria Album on Google Play

Get the Bulgaria Album on Amazon

To entice you to support these shoulders of mine, which then support my backpack, which in turn supports the little blue ukulele, here's a nice relaxing one that you can download for free. Because it's you:

Koprivshtitsa

Ben's Ukulele Road Trips

Download

I hope you enjoy the album.

Coming back to the emotional narrative of these travels, I'm writing this today from Romania, where I have just set foot. At the border, in the city of Ruse, Bulgaria, just before leaving this country I enjoyed so very much, I felt a certain standstill. The moment when time freezes (for an amount of time technically incalculable because, well, time has stopped), just before a leap in the unknown. A song may or may not have come from this short stay in Ruse. It may. It did. It's actually right here:

Martinitza, Martinitzi - Varna, Bulgaria

Some goodbyes are not that easy.

And with this post, I am saying goodbye to Bulgaria. And, logically, this post isn't easy to write. But you probably saw that coming because you understand how syllogisms work. Basically, me a bit sad.

There is a beautiful tradition that has followed my travels all the way through Bulgaria, and that is the Martenitza bracelet. A bracelet each Bulgarian has to say goodbye to every year, but they didn't seem to mind as much as me.

These red and white bracelets are offered and worn from the beginning of March when people start sensing Spring might just be deciding to come back slowly. And when a person sees a Stalk, he hangs his bracelet(s) on a blooming tree, for good health. You get to pick a nice one if you like of course.

 I got my first and only Martenitza in Sofia from Viktoria, carried it all around, and then, with a smile and a slight feeling of loss, I perched it near a Thracian Tomb and onlooking stalks, in the Kanzanluk area, in the middle of the country. You might have noticed in the videos how it disappears from my wrist between two songs.

And now, on the Black Sea, the other side of the country, having been zig-zagging in this beautiful land for two months, I record a song about Martenitzi (the plural), my favourite Bulgarian tradition. Very much like this bracelet I took an irrational liking to, I leave behind beautiful landscapes, moments and people. And as much as I'd like to take some of them with me, that's not how Martenitzi, or travelling, works.

But with the comfort that the memories will travel on with me, joyfully celebrating Spring, and with all my thankful thoughts to all the wonderful Bulgarians I have met here and who have made it such a wonderful discovery for Ukulele Road Trips in it's first country, Martenitza, Martenitzi !