layered hills
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This post is about a 10km walk from the Chapel Of Panteleimon to Bryagovo. The road leads past a stunning mountain scenery.
At night the temperatures had dropped down to a few degrees below zero. I had been using both my sleeping bags at once, one wrapped within the other, and I hadn’t felt cold at all.
how to store medication
Storing my medication wasn’t easy, though. The stuff wasn’t allowed to freeze, and it wasn’t allowed to get too warm, either. I kept it in a thermos, which was fine during the day, but the night was a bit of a challenge. Outside of the sleeping bag it would be too cold, inside the sleeping bag it would be too warm.
I ended up putting the thermos between my two sleeping bags, along with a bottle of water I wanted to use for my morning hygiene. When I checked the log on my thermometer in the morning, the medication had been doing just fine. Temperatures in the thermos in my outer sleeping bag had hovered around 8 degrees celsius. And the bottle of water wasn’t frozen either.
lazy morning
A lot of my stuff was wet, though. Mostly the tent and the sleeping bags. I wasn’t sure if it was because of morning frost or because I had been sweating during the night. Either way I waited until the sun had come up, then I lay everything out to dry.
And so I sat there, in the picnic area of the Chapel of Panteleimon, drinking up the sun rays, listening to the birds, munching on a chocolate bar and some nuts. I didn’t have any tea left because I had used it to clean my feet the night before.
Eventually a car pulled up and two old men appeared. They waved hello and walked over to another part of the picnic area. Then they sat down, and suddenly they each had a can of beer in their hands.
a short walk
The road to walk from the Chapel Of Panteleimon to Bryagovo wasn’t far, but it was stunningly beautiful. The hills and the mountains were always there, in the distance. And as the afternoon progressed they went through different shades of blue, one behind the other, carefully layered as if they wanted to make sure that they would all be seen separately from each other.
I walked until nightfall, then I reached the house of Aleksander and his family, who had invited me for the night.
pictures
The Chapel Of Panteleimon:
These reminded me of a tree I had seen in Kazakhstan several years before:
The road to walk from the Chapel Of Panteleimon to Bryagovo:
The layered hills:
The Caboose on her way from the Chapel Of Panteleimon to Bryagovo:
Bryagovo at night:
A quiet Bulgarian village:
