Having not posted a report in what must be a good few years, I thought it was something long overdue.
The Buzludzha Monument, or as it's more formally known, the House-Monument of the Bulgarian Communist Party, is a long abandoned monument resemblant of a UFO that sits on the peak of Mount Buzludzha, overshadowing the nearby, 'ultra-modern', town of Kazanlak. It was built as an ode to Bulgaria's Communist past.
Landing in Sofia with most of the usual lot, we jumped into the family friendly Kia and drove through the night to Kazanlak, staying in what happens to be the go-to place in town. With a quick stop at the local Lidl for some beers we where on our way up the winding mountain roads to the peak, where we seemed to meet half the town on a Saturday morning ski.
With a short lug through the ankle deep snow from the car and with a few sneaky manoeuvres, we were in. The place itself once inside was a shell for the most part, apart from the iconic hammer and sickle in the ceiling. Despite the numerous years of being left to the elements, the mosaics on the walls have seemed to have stood the test of time along with the red star in the tower.
Once up the top of the tower, it was a chilled hour or so spending a sunny, sub-zero, Saturday drinking a few cans of 'Deep'. That night we celebrated with some dodgy looking ribs and chicken and getting pissed with the locals.
The rest of the trip seemed to involve lots of wild dogs, cars, train yards, security and sticks.
Cheers
The Buzludzha Monument, or as it's more formally known, the House-Monument of the Bulgarian Communist Party, is a long abandoned monument resemblant of a UFO that sits on the peak of Mount Buzludzha, overshadowing the nearby, 'ultra-modern', town of Kazanlak. It was built as an ode to Bulgaria's Communist past.
Landing in Sofia with most of the usual lot, we jumped into the family friendly Kia and drove through the night to Kazanlak, staying in what happens to be the go-to place in town. With a quick stop at the local Lidl for some beers we where on our way up the winding mountain roads to the peak, where we seemed to meet half the town on a Saturday morning ski.
With a short lug through the ankle deep snow from the car and with a few sneaky manoeuvres, we were in. The place itself once inside was a shell for the most part, apart from the iconic hammer and sickle in the ceiling. Despite the numerous years of being left to the elements, the mosaics on the walls have seemed to have stood the test of time along with the red star in the tower.
Once up the top of the tower, it was a chilled hour or so spending a sunny, sub-zero, Saturday drinking a few cans of 'Deep'. That night we celebrated with some dodgy looking ribs and chicken and getting pissed with the locals.
The rest of the trip seemed to involve lots of wild dogs, cars, train yards, security and sticks.
Cheers
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