The importance of being Important while on Customized Tours Bulgaria
As a company, we in EnmarBg decided to focus on customized, private tour Bulgaria because we believe that it`s best when you travel with the people you love, family or friends.
Yes, you will see several itineraries already done on our website for you but our intention, in fact is to help you get an idea of what Bulgaria is. We also like to help you get acquainted with the country and the region. (Sofia sightseeing) And not only that but to help you learn a little bit more about the culture of this amazing country before you start planning your Bulgaria holidays.
Private tours Bulgaria. Bulgaria is no different from any other country in the world. It has its own history, heroes, legends. It surely had its falls and pinnacle. Bulgaria is inviting you on private tours Bulgaria to learn more about the country.
The country had difficult moments but it has always had its folklore. That folklore full of never ending energy which helped Bulgarians to survive through the centuries of wars. It also helped them to stay as a nation. What does folklore mean? It is the beliefs, traditions, stories of a community which are passed through the generations by word of mouth. Bulgarian folk songs, Bulgarian traditional costumes have these in them. The costume is one of the most typical elements of the Bulgarian folk culture.
It reflects the specificity, traditional culture and life of t
Slumberover there. Do you want to be punished by God? She said to Petriya.
Themoon was overhead. Everything was so quiet. Anoka`s heart was breaking andsomething was slowly dying within her.
Shecouldn`t go on like this any longer, but what was to be done? Should she returnto her father—what could she tell him?—“Grandpa has ordered everybody to obeymy will.” No, she couldn`t say anything like this. And then, this terriblenight will also have its end, and soon the dawn will break and the sun willshine on all God`s creatures But she, disgraceful person, what shall she do?Could she be more furious than she is? To be quiet—but how? To surrender? No!
Thethoughts played a wild dance in her head, crossing, mingling and intermingling.
Shefelt very tired. Passions, love, hatred, hunger and thirst all disappeared. Hereyelids were heavy like lead, and still they would not close. She felt so
Thesame evening all the men were sitting around the table, for it was supper time.Radoyka was the only woman among them. The other women had their supper in thekitchen. Two or three women were serving at the table.
Itwas Anoka`s turn to serve.
Twoother women walked in and out with dishes and food. Anoka leaned against thedoor and made faces.
Grandpagave her a terrific look. All were speechless. Radoyka felt all the bloodrushing to her head. Anoka did not even notice it!
Aftersupper everybody made a sign of the cross, waiting for grand-pa`s sign forleaving the room.
Crust of bread
But the old man pushed aside a crust of bread, the spoon, the knife, and the wooden dish. He rested his head on his palm, looked around and fixed his eyes on Anoka.
Shewas on pins and needles, dropped her arms, stretched her strong and beautifulbody, and moved to leave the room.
Anoka`sfury grew day by day and she invented all kinds of tricks with which to teasethe people in the house. She would chase the dogs into the kitchen, and wouldallow them to eat up the meat in the pot. She would open the faucets of thekegs in the cellar, so the wine would flow out. The bread in the oven alwaysburned if she was to watch it. On working days, for instance, she would put onholiday attire. It became worse and worse. The women couldn`t stand it anylonger. Once, when it was Anoka`s turn to be the redara (housekeeper) she lefthome and went to the fair. Then the sisters-in-law gathered secretly.
“Idon`t know, dear sisters, what great wrong we have committed that we shouldhave to suffer so much.”
“Neitherdo I know.”
“That`sa great punishment and a great misfortune.”
Grandfather`soldest son, Blagoye, Arsen`s father, is the third member of the home council.The rest of the family listens and obeys. The three elders sometimes leave thehouse intentionally, to give the children a chance to play to their heart`sdesire, the women to talk as much as they might please and the men to smokefreely. The moment, however, one of the “big three” steps into the house, everyone becomes quiet and busy.
Grandpa,being an old man, would frequently behave like a child. At times he would losehis temper for the least trifle, then he would rage, scold, and, in hisexcitement, strike at the nearest one. Again, he would be gentle, generous,play with the youngsters, give them coppers. Then again, for no reason in theworld, he would begin to cry: “I am left alone in this world like a witheredtree on a mountain.”
Youthhas its frivolity, old age its senility.
Theday following Arsen`s adventure, Blagoye came to Radoyka
Thatevening Arsen came home in a melancholy mood. Contrary to his habit, he firstwent into the wine cellar and took a stiff drink, the first time he had everdone so. He returned to the yard, sat down on a block of wood where he remainedlong after dark, absorbed by nocturnal sounds. In the kitchen on the hearth,flaming tongues shot out and licked the iron cauldron suspended by chains fromthe ceiling. A newly discovered fire was burning in Arsen`s heart. In thesurrounding darkness he discerned human forms, dogs crossing the yard, oxenreturning from pasture; he heard the trampling of horses in their stalls; herecognized his brother Nenad returning from the city. A hen jumped from themulberry tree, looked round sleepily, and flew to another branch. Already amouse dared to nibble at the block on which Arsen was sitting.
Hefelt dizzy, and became frightened at his heart beats. Suddenly he began tolaugh, stupidly, for no reason at all. As he laughed and cried interm
Aftercompleting his law studies at Belgrade, Lazarevich received a governmentfellowship in medicine, and in 1872 began studying in Berlin. Seven yearslater, having received his degree, he returned to Belgrade, where he filledimportant official positions in his capacity as physician. He died in Belgradein 1890, probably of tuberculosis. Lazarevich is one of the most gifted andpopular of Serbian writers. His literary works were many and varied.
Ofhis many stories of the life of his native land, At the Well (first publishedin 1881) is considered one of the finest. It is here published for the firsttime in English. The translation is by I. Altaraz, Ph.D., to whom thanks aredue for permission to use it.
At the Well
Taense clouds of flakes, like white ghosts, are driven by the howling wind and swept in all directions until they hang like tiny white crystals on man`s whiskers and horse`s mane.—Tha
Holidays Bulgaria – Kazanlak – the town of the most beautiful among women, the rose…
There is something in Kazanlak, which is not only the beautiful nature and the fascinating women. There is something which is in the air, something which is soaked in the soil… Something that explains the specific atmosphere and flavour Kazanlak has. Atmosphere of a place where time stands still but life doesn`t; where one can feel peaceful, calm and safe. And the flavour of the rose, the unique rose.