I arrived in Sofia by train just as the city was waking up. There’s something humbling about watching a place come to life while you’re still groggy from travel. The morning chill hit me first. Crisp air with the bite of a winter still reluctant to leave. The smell of the train station, diesel and overboiled coffee, lingered…but the energy of the city felt real and unfiltered. This is place does not pretend.
The first thing you do here, everyone tells you, is get banitsa (and yes, in Serbia they call it Gibanica). So I did. A tiny bakery near the station, nothing special from the outside, but the aroma was irresistible. Flaky pastry, golden and glistening with melted butter, stuffed with creamy white cheese. And of course, a glass of ayran (yogurt, water, salt)—cold, tangy, almost sour, but refreshing in a way that wakes you right up. Breakfast for under two euros, and better than anything you’ll find in a tourist café.
I spent most of the morning just walking. The city feels like a rough gem, not quite polished but shining all the same. Vitosha Boulevard was busy with the rush of people heading to work, the shops just starting to open. I wandered until I found myself in front of the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. It’s imposing and serene all at once, with its golden domes flashing beneath the weak sunlight.
But what stayed with me most was the quiet bench I found in Borisova Gradina park. I sat there with the remnants of my banitsa, scribbling notes and letting the world pass by. Families strolling, dogs barking, old men playing chess as if nothing beyond their board existed.
Lunch was kebapche from a roadside grill—a spiced, minced meat sausage charred to perfection, served with a hunk of bread and some mustard. It’s not fancy. It’s not meant to be. But the taste is all fire and comfort.
I walked until my feet ached and finally settled down at a place called Dabov Specialty Coffee– Iztok. Not exactly local, but I needed something strong to push through the exhaustion. The espresso was sharp, bitter in the best way, and exactly what I needed.
Now, here’s what I want you to do: find a place like this. Maybe you know a city or town that’s rough around the edges but alive with character. Maybe you live in one. Maybe it’s a village. Wander until you find a bench that feels like it was waiting for you. Try something new. Eat what’s close and affordable. And when you’re done, write it down. Even if it’s only for yourself.
Sofia is just the start. Let’s see where this road leads.
