Bulgaria’s bewitching mountains offer an escape from the crowds

Inside the Monastery of Saint Ivan. Photo / Getty Images

I realise that I’m on a very different kind of travel assignment when the entire tour group is fascinated by the age of the dung. We lean closely in to examine the “find”. The sun beats down as the butterflies dance about us. My team leader, Julian, a renowned expert on Balkan bears, sighs and says: “Yes, it’s a bear – but quite old, I’m afraid. Probably three days.”

No one seems particularly fazed. Indeed, everyone seems quite smiley. Brian the arthritic ex-British soldier; Janine the nice lady with the hip replacement; Diane and Ted the sweet and funny septuagenarian couple from Atlanta – they’re all chatting about not much in particular, even as we sit down to gaze over the hills and tuck into our rustic cheese and tomato sandwiches. We prepared them earlier in our quaint hotel back in the village of Yagodina, lost in the deep green heart of the gorge-carved Rhodope mountains, in the southern strip of Bulgaria where it nearly topples into Greece.

The Balkan Brown Bear. Photo / 123rf

To be honest, I was hoping for a bit more than not-very-new bear doings. My “walking tour of the Rhodopes” – organised by virtually the only British company that comes here (that’s how much the region is ignored) – began stirringly back in Sofia – a straggly, airy, messy, vivid and often compelling capital city. A place where communist concrete collides with 19th-century Orthodox cathedrals built over Ottoman baths built over medieval fortifications built over Roman villas (in places all these strata of history are exposed to view, much like a slice of cake).

Sofia, pleasingly, also boasts some of the best value hotels in Europe (seriously: £65 a night for top-notch 4-star), some of the world’s oldest churches, some of Eurasia’s cheapest beer, and some of the tastiest Italian food ever – for £4, I had a better caprese salad than I’ve ever had in Capri, or, indeed, anywhere in Italy.

Don’t miss the amazing archaeological museum where the Bronze Age Thracian heritage of Bulgaria – once regarded by the Greeks as the warlike barbarians of the north – is preserved in a spellbinding Treasury Room full of shining spears, fearsome shields and Homeric helmets. It’s like walking into a spirited recitation of the Iliad, turned to gold.

Smolyan, Rhodope Mountains, Bulgaria. Photo / Unsplash

Sofia is also a good base for visiting Bulgaria’s most unmissable sight, the ancient monastery of Rila. You can easily do this Unesco-listed diamond in a day from the capital (though two is better). You will not regret the effort. It is a polychrome, zebra-striped fantasy of arches and spandrels and frescoed ceilings, it is the famous cradle of Bulgarian Orthodoxy, it is where monasticism meets magical realism, and you can sit out the back by the tumbling mountain rivers and drink cold Zagorka beer with fresh river-trout. For £7.

Hiking in Bulgaria. Photo / Unsplash

Now all that is behind me, and following a slightly gruelling minibus trip deep into the Bulgarian mountains – did I mention the Rhodopes are remote? – I am once again lost in the meadowed-and-wooded highlands, even as Teresa the retired Welsh teacher says, with almost unbridled excitement: “That’s a ring ouzel! It’s the only thrush I have not seen!”

And thus the walking days unroll. We head back to our hotel after our ten-mile hikes in the sun – which shines every day at a perfect summery 26C, unlike the sweltering 36C in Sofia, down in the valleys. Then we dine on plain but plentiful Bulgarian food, and jolly good Bulgarian wine. Then we sleep deeply, we breakfast heartily, and we make our hunky sandwiches, and we lace boots and once again walk the hills.

We marvel at the butterflies, the dragonflies, the demoiselles, the sheer Edenic fertility. We fail to see the bears. We do not see the wolves. But the wildflowers are incredible. We eat our sandwiches looking out over the rolling Thracian heights, then we get up and walk again.

Wildflowers in Bulgaria. Photo / 123rf

On day four I also learn that this is the fabled home of Orpheus, the very first poet, who is half mythology, half historical fact. He was the lyre player who, in legend, descended into the Underworld to retrieve his dead love, Eurydice – and failed. It is said his musical skills were inspired by the amazing birdsong of the Rhodopes, which remains amazing.

A little village around here, Geta, is the supposed birthplace of Orpheus. Nearby is his deathplace, atop a mountain, where he was torn limb from limb (good spot for another picnic). You can also descend, thrillingly, where Orpheus went down into Hades. It’s called the Devil’s Throat and it’s an enormous cave, where an underground river plunges into deeper rock. The river spumes and steams: you can see why locals thought it was Hell.

The village of Yavrovo, one of several in the Rhodope Mountains. Photo / 123rf

But finally, I learn this: that apparently unexciting places can be nobly rewarding, given the chance. After fully six days of striding, gazing, picnicking and amiable scat-examining, I realise I am sunburned, relaxed, decidedly happy, and totally in love with Bulgarian yoghurt mixed with home-made Rhodope jam.

Sure, the Rhodopes don’t have the glamour of the Alps, or the drama of the Dolomites, but they cast a unique, tranquillising spell of their own. And you can walk for days and days in the endless sun, and not see another soul. Or, indeed, a bear.

How to do it

An eight-day Hike Bulgaria’s Rhodopes Mountains itinerary with Exodus costs from £1,249pp, excluding flights but including accommodation, some meals and experiences, transfers and the services of a tour leader. Multiple departures in 2025 and 2026.