8th October 2013 

A glorious sunny day, fit for shorts and T-shirts. We didn’t surface until 9 am, and with only a few forlorn grains left in the coffee jar, our “morning brew” ended up being mostly life-giving honey with a whisper of caffeine. By around 11 am (scandalous by our usual standards), we finally staggered outside to resume battle with the wood store roof’s metalwork.

No sooner had we started than Milen appeared, eager for a good nosy. He praised our woodwork to the heavens, genuinely impressed, but the metalwork received a more diplomatic response. With a sympathetic tilt of the head, he informed us he knew “a man who could do it properly.” David, unflappable, asked him to get a price. If our dignity couldn’t be saved, perhaps our wallets might still stand a chance.

With the metalwork politely benched, we turned our attention to the pool barn, which was in desperate need of cladding. After some extended chin-scratching at the right side, David suddenly announced he preferred to leave it open. So, with a theatrical pivot, over to the left side it was.

The task seemed simple enough in theory: fill a triangular section. Naturally, this triangle was bisected by a small pillar and riddled with beams at angles only Euclid could love. Still, once we’d concocted a plan, I cut the wood while David followed behind, hammer in hand, nailing each piece with gusto. A display of teamwork worthy of applause, if only Banjo had bothered to clap.

Once the fiddly bit was complete, we treated ourselves to a heroic break: three egg sandwiches each, inhaled at record speed. Mid-chew, Milen reappeared, whether to admire our handiwork or to sniff out a sandwich remains unclear.

The afternoon was blissfully uninterrupted. We cladded the larger section with unexpected ease, the stereo blasting “Land of Hope and Glory” and the Enigma Variations across central Bulgaria. I like to think the local jackals, weasels, and sossals pricked up their ears, considering it for their festive playlists.

With the sun still generous, we replaced a couple of rogue planks that had slipped away from the back of the barn over winter. Job done, we slumped in the sunshine for a well-deserved natter. David floated the idea of a sauna in the corner, which I promptly vetoed as daft. He then suggested filling in the opposite end of the barn, which seemed a touch more reasonable; tomorrow’s mission was settled.

Back indoors, a brief skirmish broke out over personal hygiene: I noted David’s “ripeness,” which he quickly countered with a jibe about mine. Truce was called in the form of the immersion heater, and soon we were both as fresh as English roses.

We rounded off the day with dinner at the bar in Dryanovo, replenished our coffee supply, and finally polished off last night’s abandoned film before calling it quits.