THE Irish tourist with whom I was sharing lunch had a gleam of happy enthusiasm in her eye.
We were having lunch a short falling distance from the beginner’s slopes in Pamporovo, while her husband and my wife were off further up Snezhanka peak, skiing on slopes appropriate to their respective degrees of skill.
The Irish couple was from a town just south of the Northern Irish border. For her husband, it was the latest of many visits he had made in the past 20 years. It was her fourth, and she and two of her small children were sharing a novice skiing class with me. She laughingly confessed it was not the first time that she was trying to learn to ski. This time was to prove no success either. She and the children did not turn up after lunch on day two, and after that I found myself by default in an individual class. Not a bad thing, although she and the little children had made good company for me; but we Africans need special attention in skiing classes, because we are just not used to this crunchy white stuff called snow.
Back to lunch, and back to the Irish. Of her husband, the tourist told me: “he just loves Bulgaria. And so do I”.
There were many accents like hers to be heard in Pamporovo in that week, cheering each other on down the slopes, keeping the bar people busy, and occasionally braving an attempt to haggle with Pamporovo’s taxi drivers.
All this past year I had followed with great interest the unfolding saga of Bulgaria’s tourist industry. The Sofia Echo takes the subject sufficiently seriously that we run a column on it every week. Of course, few Bulgarian newspapers of note had failed to record the reports published in foreign countries about tourism in Bulgaria.
Conventional wisdom has come down to a number of points. One is that Bulgaria’s tourism industry is ever-growing. Another is that a threat to it is that the country will not remain affordable, and related to this point is that the country will have to do a lot more than simply sell itself on the basis of being cheaper than other destinations. A further, and much-reported, issue has been that of “construction tourism” at seaside and winter resorts, with construction continuing during the respective high seasons, and alienating visitors.
Well yes, I had seen media reports of some controversy about construction continuing at Pamporovo, although during our daily commuting between our hotel and the slopes, I saw no evidence of it. Yes, Pamporovo is less “affordable” than it was when we first visited together four years ago.
Time for a few realities. The Irish tourist couple did not regard cost as any kind of factor. Before you rush to say that spending leva means nothing to wealthy Europeans, this is a couple composed of a husband who is a teacher, and a wife who broke off her career eight years ago to produce their three children – the youngest just 11 months ago.
What was it this couple enthused about? The atmosphere. The people – Bulgarians, themselves. As the tourist put it to me, “the hospitality, the warmth, the ability to have a good time, to put themselves out for us”.
I wish all the skeptics could have heard this conversation, including those who say that Bulgarians have learnt nothing about the service ethic.
Listening to her, I responded that the night before our conversation, I had seen BNT’s programme Dalekogled, which had featured an Irish expatriate saying that he had felt very much at home in the past four years here because, he believed, the Irish and Bulgarians had very much in common, at the level of the soul and in approach to life.
She agreed, and said she believed that was one of the reasons her husband had come back so often.
When I met him, I said to her husband that I was very glad to meet a “return tourist” because of concerns that people would come to the country only once, tick it off their list – or go home with bad word of mouth because of “construction tourism” or bad service – and never come back.
He laughed, his face red with the exertion of the slopes, and said he hoped to come back many, many times.
His wife did not feel in the least deprived by her continuing inadequacy at learning to ski.
“The apres-ski is the best thing, after all, isn’t it?”
The attractions of Pamporovo’s bars and restaurants were, it seems, one of the reasons that she and some of the other tourists removed themselves from the slopes at one stage or another. “Bulgarian wine is very good, but it goes down rather too easily. So I’m feeling a bit pale today. Still, I wish it were easier to get it in Ireland. The stuff they export really isn’t the best”.
I smiled when she asked me whether or not the country was in the European Union. Living every day with coverage of the issue of whether or not Bulgaria will deal adequately with major issues like judiciary reform and thus meet its January 2007 appointment, I found it refreshing to meet someone to whom it was not a real issue, and who had half an impression that Bulgaria already had achieved this Holy Grail of European respectability.
All around me foreign tourists, including one Western diplomat and his wife who were happily incognito, were having a good time, and it is correct to record my own impressions, those of someone who is now in his fourth year of living in Bulgaria. In a word: good. Rental of ski equipment, and the lessons, were not cheap but nor were they exorbitant. Service everywhere was decent. With the exception of New Year’s Day, machines cleaned the roads to keep them safe. There was much more signage in English (and in better English) than during my first visit four years ago.
And if I sound in a good mood, it is not that the people of Pamporovo slipped me a few leva to write something nice about them. It is because, with the very patient teaching and encouragement of a young lady called Biserka, and with a tumble or four, and a few stops to catch my breath, on New Year’s Day, I somehow made it down the green slope of Snezhanka. For a middle-aged African, that’s not bad, don’t you think? It’s enough to make me want to go back.
