Every city has its own pulse. And you hear it best far from museums and churches — in the streets, where there’s no entrance fee, but every corner hides a surprise. I always set aside a “street day” in every city — the unfiltered version, no makeup. Sofia: graffiti and alleys? They’ve got serious Instagram impact. Johnny asked me this morning, “So, where to today?” The answer’s obvious — into the streets. Where stories are told without words — in graffiti.
Sofia greets us wall by wall. Colorful, raw, sometimes cheeky, but always honest. No please or thank you — just spray cans and messages. Tripadvisor even offers a “Graffiti Tour,” but Johnny and I have our own map — intuition and a nose for the soul of a city.
Sofia Graffiti, Walls That Scream
“You know graffiti’s like a city’s tattoo?” I say to Johnny as we pass a wall full of Cyrillic screams and a caricature of Putin. I mention Banksy pedagogically: “Some shout revolution, others just beg for attention.”
Johnny nods through clenched teeth. “Like urban cave paintings. Except instead of a bison, there’s a guy with a Kalashnikov.” I don’t blame him. He’s still bitter. Ever since a rookie street artist tagged the fresh façade of his house, he’s had opinions about graffiti.
Spray Instead of Speech
Why do people paint on walls? Maybe to be noticed. Maybe because there’s nowhere else to put that energy. Or maybe because they don’t just want to live — they want to leave a mark. “I was here. I exist,” say the colors on the plaster.
Sofia’s alleyways are like soup — grey concrete as broth, graffiti as spice. Without it, the taste would just be Monday sadness.
Serdika: Layers on Layers
Our path leads us to Serdika — like walking on a Roman soul inside a Bulgarian body. Above ground: the chaos of trams. Below: ancient ruins. And right between past and present stands the Banya Bashi Mosque. Next to it an Orthodox church, and just around the corner a synagogue. Like three worlds having coffee and saying, “Let’s try this coexistence thing.”
Real Sofia: Sneezes, Socks, and Rakija
Notice how when someone sneezes here, people say “Nazdrave” not once, but three times? Johnny was so confused he started replying “Thank you” four times. And of course, shoes off when you enter a flat — not for the carpets, but out of respect. At least someone respected me in our apartment. Just make sure your socks are hole-free and don’t have slogans like “I’m sexy and I gnome it.”
Tips for Survival (and Popularity)
Want the locals to like you? Learn a few Bulgarian phrases. Order rakija — slowly, unless you want to forget your own name. And never, seriously never, say Greek food is better than Bulgarian. That’s like saying your mother-in-law cooks better than your mom.
Soup, Anyone?
Sofia’s got a thing for soups. Bulgarian cuisine offers a wide variety of soups, including traditional ones such as Bob chorba (bean soup), Tarator (cold yogurt soup with cucumber), and fish and meat soups such as Pilshka supa (chicken soup) or Shkembe chorba (tripe soup).
There are entire restaurants dedicated to them. We try the shopska, then tarator. But beware — only on weekdays and only at lunch. So come evening, it’s back to grilled fish. Johnny drizzles his with lemon and mutters thoughtfully, “Today, the walls told us more than the guide ever could. And the fish’s not bad either.”
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