It all started with the
fact that I had a gaida to pick
up. But things got out of hand,
and before I knew it I had
packed up my van and was off
down the autobahn heading for
Plovdiv.
My first stop was high up in the Rhodope mountains at Gela, birthplace of Orpheus and site of the great gaida festival on Ilinden - St Elijah's Day. It's a spectacular site - a huge amphitheatre of meadow in the middle of the mountains - and was already filling up with cars and campervans the day before the festival officially started. Whole pigs were already roasting on spits at the open-air restaurants (any Bulgarian festival worth its salt turns over at least 20 pigs a day) and a little boy was running up and down with his toy gaida, making bagpipe noises (at least, I suppose they were meant to be bagpipe noises).
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