26th September 2013 Full sun on a roof isn’t exactly paradise, unless your paradise involves sweat trickling into unmentionable places, a vocabulary of industrial-strength expletives, and a constant fear of plummeting. We began full of optimism, lining up the metal edging to frame the end tiles. First came the fiddly layering of bitumen beneath, then… Continue Reading

25th September 2013 We indulged in a rare lie-in until 9 a.m., only to emerge into a day that was already blustery enough to keep things “interesting.” By the time we’d made it up to the roof at 11 am, the wind was whistling through every gap it could find and treating us like reluctant… Continue Reading

24th September 2013 We wake up thinking of roofs. We spend all day talking about roofs. We go to bed and, without doubt, dream of roofs. Back in the UK, roofs are refreshingly sensible affairs: standardised timbers, precision machining, and construction methods that might even make an architect smile. Bulgarian roofs? Entirely different animal. Here,… Continue Reading

23rd September 2013 The sun had popped his hat on and beamed down cheerily until mid-afternoon, when a troupe of dark, brooding clouds shuffled onto the stage. David swore blind it would rain; I declared it wouldn’t; Banjo, zen master of the household, remained serenely indifferent. I was right, of course. (Not that I mentioned… Continue Reading

22nd September 2013 Saturday dawned indecently early, thanks to Banjo and his unerring 5 a.m. bladder alarm. Ever the gent, he slipped back in afterwards without ceremony, curled into a cosy nest at the foot of the bed, and left me in peace. My next awakening was courtesy of David, bearing coffee in one hand… Continue Reading

21st September 2013 The evening didn’t quite pan out as expected. Halfway through the video, Thor, David drifted off, and an early night seemed inevitable. I was just settling into bed, Banjo contentedly working away at his paws at the foot, when the “sleeping” David exploded into my room shouting, “It’s P**ing it down outside!”*… Continue Reading

19th September 2013 The day began on a rather unsavoury note, courtesy of our old friend “Bulgarian sweet and sour chicken.” At around 1 a.m., my stomach staged a protest, and fifteen fraught minutes later, the offending dish was evicted. Peace was restored, and I crawled back into bed, grateful for a ceasefire. By 7… Continue Reading

18th September 2013 Alarms were set for 7 a.m., but Banjo’s early-morning “business meeting” at 6:30 am had me up and about before the racket began. Why the crack-of-dawn start? Because Sevdolin, the local powerhouse, was due at 8 am sharp. True to his word, he rolled up on time. A big lad with an… Continue Reading

17th September 2013 After a blissful night’s sleep, I awoke to a breezy but sunny morning, the kind of day that whispers “get things done” but doesn’t quite shout enough to stop you lingering over coffee first. Banjo and I enjoyed a gentle game of fetch before I wandered around the house and garden, mentally… Continue Reading

16th September 2013 The journey to see David went reasonably well, by British transport standards, at least. On Saturday morning, Sue dropped me at the station, and, to my astonishment, the trains all ran on time. Less astonishing was the fact that, despite having reserved seats on all three legs to Manchester Airport, I found… Continue Reading