Uses for a soap dish ?

Breakfast in the hotel, was nothing special ... one fried egg and two pieces of toast, served by a lady with crimped blonde hair that looked like she should have starred in the Munsters ... scary.  Nobody complained about the Coffee, which was harsh to say the least.

After extracting our bikes from the Courtyard, we were on the road 9ish, and quickly exited the city...

into rural roads, where a brief stop to check the map, saw Neil striking up a conversation with a fellow Farmer about the best direction to plough a field !

Leaving him confused, we headed on through a mixture of roads, and road surfaces....

And it wasn't long before we found ourselves riding through the Borovets ski resort...

Passed through another small village that had a MIG-21 Fishbed in a front garden (and believe me, that description came from an expert in the field).  We turned round, and there was a Russian T32 tank parked nearby.  I'm guessing these villagers must have been involved in the fighting in the region.

We took the opportunity to stop for a coffee, before heading out onto more mountainous roads.

The last 50 miles saw us ride around a huge lake before dropping into Sofia.  I was tail end charlie, and without warning, the old Honda just stopped.  As the tail lights disappeared into the distance, I knew I was alone !   Anyway, after checking a few fuses, I touched the fuel tank relay, and the pump sprang into life.  It started up, and I had 20 mins to catch up with the gang.  Got the to the hotel OK, only to see them drift in a few minutes later, with mutterings of "got lost, damn Tom Tom" or words to that effect.

Dave ventured out to find beer and we joined him shortly in a sort of "cafe in the park" type place...

Dave disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a gift for Thorpy ... it was a soap dish.  But yet he also bought a matching one for himself.   Now I don't want to cast aspersions on the reasons, but given their previous night was spent in a hotel room which turned out to have a mirror on the ceiling.  One must draw your own conclusions.

Wasn't long before the heavens opened and we were marooned under our umbrella.  But it was short lived, & we moved on to the cheapest bar in Sofia, the most expensive, the one with the longest wait, the one with craft beer and loud music, and probably a few others whose description I forget.

Food was next, and we found a genuine Bulgarian restaurant which turned up trumps as far as the food goes, but when the genuine Bulgarian Folk Band started banging away, that put an end to the conversation at least.

With the prospect of a load of off-road the next day, showers, and a fair few beers already inside us, I recall we were bed just after 10, and the promise of an early start the next day.