Autumn, be it Central Park, Türkenschanzpark, or Sofia’s City Garden

Icon art is big business in Sofia. I will guess there is even a patron saint of Icon Art.
Too few challengers?
Too many challengers?
Public watering holes. The water is tasty and clear, in spite of what I had read.


One of Sofia’s many “Dogs without Obvious Homes.” I shared my lunch with this guy, and had I driven to Sofia, Clayton Theodore would now have a new friend with whom to share our sofa.

Old meets new. Not sure about the watchtower; maybe for traffic police?

Russia has its Faberge Eggs; Sofia has the Happiness Egg.
The view from our hotel room, semi-suburban Sofia.
Our hotel neighborhood. The orange building is an elementary school.



At the end of the block was a “345 Market,” which the hotel desk clerk said was open 24 hours for snacks and the like.  Not expecting more than a basic market, I walked over to investigate and felt like I had wandered into Dean and Deluca. Bright aisles, gorgeous displays, I could barely process what I could and could not have Tony bring home (he checked, I carried on). Fresh dried paprikas? No. Greek Olive Oil, barely 3 USD equivalent for a half-litre?  Yes. Three jars of one of my favorite French terrines, just 2 USD equivalent each?  Absolument.  I just hope Tony doesn’t get the munchies before he returns home on Saturday.