Sofia was an insane town. Sophia is an insane woman! So in a way I don't know why I was surprised…

It was a rather interesting train ride from Prague, full of absolutely stunning Czech/Hungarian/Serbian countryside which was the best distraction from the creepy conductor who spoke no english and stole my eurail pass for about 12 hours…But in the end it was Ok. I managed to sleep for most of the night, save for a few passoport inspections in the middle of the night in the form of banging on the door until I regained conciousness and opened the door. However, after such a long trip, I was not so happy with my welcome to Sofia: stepping onto the platform into the hot Tuesday evening, to be promtly scammed by two creepy looking men. One forcedly helped me with my bags down the stairs, the other restrained my "Please no im really fine really im fine no really--" so I had no choice but to follow them, then as soon as they stopped they demanded money, as I got out my wallet to get twenty cents or something meagre and bam! 20 euros later they are running away in a flash of stubble and bad breath. Ah, sofia sofia.

The next 4 hours were a little excruating, walking through the streets of the city centre was so odd, it felt like the place was haunted by some smoky ghost, everyone was withered and even the fat people looked gaunt in some way, like they were being drained. I'm pretty sure this was mainly a reflection of my mood, 2 days straight on trains (save for a few hours stop in Vienna the day before) had left me tired and malnourished: I was on a diet of Mozart Mirabells (the most delicious chocolate in the world) and 10 cent bread rolls. Not so good. Sofia did not deliver in the realm of the greatly needed fruit and veg department, so after a floury apple I gave up and just tried no to get myself raped. Im being dramatic, but you know what I mean. I did perfect the art of no eye contact with people, especially difficult walking past those hoards of old dudes smoking their lives away in holes in the wall. It was an interesting experience, being in such a place, I didn't quite know what to thjink of the dirty brown tinge to everything and the empty canals and rabid dogs running around like skeletal dragons.

Waiting for my train to Thessaloniki, I was reaching the end of my teather. I looked up at the train timetable, and realised I had no idea where my train left from platform wise, and was seriously about to cry cos I just really felt like my arms and legs and face was going to fall off with filth and disgust and a desire to really like this place even though I know I couldn't. I thought about how beautiful the countryside of Bulgaria had looked as we had crossed the border from Serbia, all those gorgeous hills that had reminded me of Inglodsby, the little old men on rusty bikes carrying goats, washing hanging on the line above barbed wire fences, clothes of all colours reflected in the train tracks. I like to think Sofia is the exception to the Bulgarian temper, she is misunderstood or something.

At perhaps my most desparate moment in that train station, stomach grumbling and mind ranting about how unhelpful the police had been when I asked them how to use the pay phones after they ate all my money, there was a shift of some kind. I saw two guys squinting up at the screen as I did, I recognised their confused eyes, "Are you getting the Thessaloniki train by any chance? Where the hell is the platform we have to go to!"

They became my new German pals, Christoph and Martin, and unlike Sofia, they were friendly and didn't expect money in return for helping me with my bags.