Bypassing Electrocution And A Free Spa In Bulgaria (wink)

My right arm extended behind me in a locked position, sweat dripped down my face as I schlepped luggage across uneven sidewalks from the bus station to a hotel in Bulgaria.

It is humbling arriving in a foreign country without knowing a single word or having local currency in your change purse. Generally I learn the basics like please, thank you, toilet, ER – the usual words you might need. It is the least I should do as a tourist and it goes a long way respectfully with the locals. However, Bulgarian is not on Duolingo and I had just booked my ticket the day prior from Greece! I am winging my current adventure, so I apologize, Bulgaria, for my ignorance. I even find the Bulgarian word for hello to be challenging.

Denis at the front desk of my hotel was lovely. He said I was far from home after looking at my passport and called over another employee. They were speaking Bulgarian. Men in suits stared at me in afternoon sunshine beyond the beverage station. I was asked for the tourist tax. I had literally just got off of the bus from Greece; I had no Bulgarian Lev. Yet. I paid in Euros and was handed back change in local notes. They were gorgeous. I left them on the counter and stared at a pink bill time forgot and a coin with a large number two. Holding new currencies is when I tangibly feel I have arrived somewhere new.

Denis gave me me an upgraded room. I was not sure why but excitedly, I grabbed my bags and off I went to explore my dream room!

Entering the room, I noticed a panel on the floor of the tub. Above me was a hole in the ceiling with an electrical contraption dangling above the shower. Just add water, what could go wrong?!

“Fry the American!” Is that what his friend said at the front desk?! Wink.

I should have shared my location…

I left for the spa they said was complementary, after exchanging Bulgarian Lev at the casino. The employee at the door took my passport as more suits watched me and my movements. I am convinced this hotel was similar to the set up I saw at the KGB museum in Tallinn. But let’s not digress…there was no grandmother outside my door…or was there?!

Spa guests walked around with blue plastic footies, how cute! A sign said they were mandatory. When in Rome or Galapagos…I grabbed a pair of blue footed boobies, booties and placed them over my shoes. I headed toward the pool when I got busted for not having a shower cap. The spa rep said it would be five Euros for a cap. They told me the spa was free. I didn’t bring cash to a free spa!

“What’s down there?!” I asked, trying to divert her attention and quell my embarrassment. I wanted to experience the amenities; there were so many mystery doors! One was a salon and sold pink roses. One sold religious, sexual items, and bottles of vodka. The hallway was lengthy and I was travel weary, but that is when I found a salt room! It was like Jimmy Buffet went Eastern European, I had never seen such a thing! I read the signage that said you must wear booties. So exciting, I already did that! I read the memo about not entering if you have certain medical conditions. It’s possible I have twenty of them. What could go wrong in a foreign country where no one knew where I was?!

It was a glass room with beach lawn chairs and white salt on the floor. A heat machine hung on the door. I tried to look cool in my bathing suit and booties attempting to open the door, but it would not unlock. A camera was on me – “another ignorant tourist” the thought bubble emitted above the eyes behind the camera, or so I thought. I swiped my key card over a black box, the door still would not open. I returned sheepishly to the pleasant spa attendant. She told me the salt room is five Euros.

What part of free spa is this?!

I returned to my room with my tail between my legs and had a dance party to relieve travel fatigue after sitting next to a man on video chat for hours on a hot bus into another country. There were 10 passengers on the bus. I paid a bit more for the front window seat so I wouldn’t get motion sickness. Next time, I’ll just sit solo and get ill.

I am so grateful for this moment in time, winging my travels as I so desire learning about this beautiful world and my internal one. I shall sign off with a sore arm, excited about schlepping my bags across town to my next hotel and future spa day!

* Post Edited By A Friend *