Monday, May 18, 2026
Route: Sofia → Belogradchik, Bulgaria
The InterContinental Sofia was a problem.
Not because anything was wrong with it. Quite the opposite. After the previous night’s almost-accommodation, the InterContinental felt like we had accidentally wandered into civilization wearing road-trip dust.
The beds were comfortable. The room was beautiful. The view was excellent. There was a gym. An actual gym. At one of our accommodations. This felt revolutionary.
Daniel went for a run. I went to the gym. He joined me afterward, and we finished our workout together, which allowed us to pretend we were disciplined athletes rather than two men fueled by pasta, ice cream, border snacks, and questionable decisions.
“We should stay here another night,” Daniel said.
“That would be responsible,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“So obviously we are leaving.”
Sofia by Electric Scooter
Before checkout, we decided to see more of Sofia by electric scooter. This sounded efficient, fast, and fun.
Then we hit the cobblestones.
Riding an electric scooter over cobblestone streets is not transportation. It is a full-body dental exam.
My hands vibrated. My arms vibrated. My bones reconsidered their alignment.
Daniel shouted over the rattling, “Full body massage!”
“Not the relaxing kind!” I shouted back.
We saw Roman ruins, passed through a park, and twice accidentally rode into areas where scooters were not allowed. The scooters shut down, sounded alarms, and forced us to push them back out like guilty children returning stolen shopping carts.
Sofia was not subtle about correcting us.
After checking out, we retrieved Daniel’s forgotten toiletry bag from the previous accommodation. The glamorous road trip continued.
A True Bulgarian Experience in Belogradchik
Then we drove northwest toward Belogradchik, a small Bulgarian town famous for its red rock formations and fortress. As we approached, the scenery changed. Red towers, cliffs, and strange shapes rose around the village, making the landscape feel half geology and half fantasy film set.
Then we saw our accommodation.
Daniel looked at the building.
“This is going to be a true Bulgarian experience.”
He was right.
It was dated. Not boutique-vintage dated. More like “1960s Bulgaria called and wants its electrical panel back” dated. The building looked rough, the stair area had a broken or unfinished section, the doors looked like stained plywood, and the fuses were old round screw-in ones. The place had two bedrooms, cost about 40 euros, and carried the emotional weight of several political eras.
Jeep Trails and Red Rocks
But we did not have time to analyze the furnishings. We had to meet our guide, Edi from Belogradchik Adventures.
Edi was wonderful. He treated us like royalty, or at least like two slightly confused travelers who had booked a jeep tour and a hot air balloon ride. He started by taking us around the Belogradchik Rocks, a landscape of sandstone and conglomerate formations that rise in towers and cliffs, some reaching up to around 200 meters.
The jeep had the steering wheel on the right side, but Edi drove on the correct side of the road.
Technically.
At times, the road itself seemed optional.
He took us to viewpoints, through forests, and into tree tunnels barely wide enough for the jeep. I was in the back seat, which gave me an excellent view of branches trying to enter the vehicle.
“Are we on a road?” I asked.
Daniel looked around.
“Define road.”
The jeep was already scratched, which reassured me slightly. Not because we were safe, but because the vehicle had survived this before.
A Balloon Ride at Sunset
After a cave stop and a podcast interview near the red rocks, we waited to see if the wind would allow the hot air balloon to launch. At first, it was uncertain. Then around sunset, the wind settled.
Suddenly the balloon was being inflated, the burners fired, the fabric rose, and we climbed into the basket.
It was Daniel’s first hot air balloon ride.
“It’s so calm,” he said later. “Nothing like an airplane. You just float.”
That is exactly right.
A balloon does not take off dramatically. It simply leaves the ground as if gravity has become negotiable. The timing was perfect. The sun was setting, the light turned golden, and the Belogradchik Rocks looked even more otherworldly from above.
I launched my drone as we lifted off, which means I spent the first few minutes filming the experience instead of experiencing the experience. Daniel, being more sensible, just enjoyed it.
Edi skimmed us near treetops and even collected a few branches from the basket. When your balloon pilot calmly harvests tree samples from the air, you do not ask too many questions.
The flight lasted over an hour. We touched down once, Edi did not like the landing site, and up we went again for another 20 minutes. Eventually he landed beautifully, while the chase crew found us by car.
The balloon ride was peaceful.
The ride back to the village was not.
By the time we returned, it was around 9:30 p.m., and we were starving. We found a tiny local Bulgarian restaurant. Daniel thought it might be Mexican because of the name.
It was not Mexican.
Not even spiritually.
He ordered what translated as pork filet and got something closer to pork belly. I ordered shish kebab and received exactly one skewer, rescued only by the large shepherd salad I had wisely ordered.
Back at our extremely authentic accommodation, comfort no longer mattered. I could have slept on a pile of jeep tires.
We crashed immediately.
Belogradchik had delivered.
Not softly.
But memorably.