Piturs

I went into this church and looked at some holy person's well-preserved pinkie finger:



Bulgaria: "Handicap accessible since the revolution!"



Black Sea. More gray:



Your dogs and guns are not welcome here (at a breakfast diner):

This is a random graveyard for helicopters and fighter jets and tanks and things:

Bulgarian people don't need to eat (they are fueled by their hatred of the Soviet Union), but when they do, they often go to see Ronald MakgoHa^gc:

Sunrise over Plovdiv. I was the only one awake at this hour. And for the next several hours because apparently Bulgarians don't wake up until 8 or 9am, and my awesome Soviet-era fireproof overnight train arrived at 5:30am:

I woke up from a nap, the bus was coming to a stop. I said, slowly, and in that annoying phrasing that Americans use when they're trying to make people understand a language they don't speak: "Is airport?" Some people nodded. I got off the bus and this is what I saw:

That's a double rainbow people. Look closely. Let's love each other more starting now.