Wednesday 21st August 2019

I am officially the proud owner of Bulgarian property number two and have just finished my second full day of sorting out the things left behind by the previous owner. If it wasn't for hunger and fear of rats after dark I think I'd still be there now.

The deal all went through on Monday and, after a few stressy moments such as having to fill out a bank declaration in Bulgarian stating that my money is from legitimate sources and that I'm not merely purchasing properties as part of some kind of money laundering scheme, I received a bunch of keys and said hello to my new home in Mezhdene. Or is it Mezhdeni? I've seen it referred to in both ways online, so must make a mental note to actually look at the village sign when I drive there tomorrow. As far as I'm aware, that's what my address will be - Mezhdene/i - no street, no number, just the village. It'll make future form filling simple at least.

The agreement between myself and the seller was that he would have until the end of August to sort through all of his belongings and take what he wanted. In my heart of hearts I was hoping he wouldn't have too much of a clear out as there's nothing I enjoy more than rummaging through heaps of belongings for hidden treasures - in fact, it would be like owning my own secondhand shop! What could be more joyous than that? Well, lady luck was smiling on me, because when we arrived at the house on Monday the owner said he'd pretty much taken all that he needed and only needed to return on Saturday to collect the three barrels of fermenting plums which will be turned into his year's stash of rakia (the explosive homemade brandy Bulgarians are so fond of, which on the alcohol Richter scale rates as 'armageddon').

It was early Monday evening before I returned to the house for the first time by myself, and busied myself with labelling the numerous keys which open various gates and doors all over the property. One part of one of the barns I'd never been inside before, so it was very exciting to see inside for the first time. There was quite a lot of damage to the roof but in the corner of the room I discovered one of those big old-fashioned open fireplaces which you see from time to time and which always make me think, yes, I'd love one of those. I couldn't believe it. It was completely covered with boxes and tools and junk, but I'm hoping beyond hope that it hasn't been damaged too much by the elements and can be restored. Here's a picture of what I'm talking about (but not my actual one):

Tuesday morning I arrived bright and early to meet with the builder and finalise plans for the initial renovation work. We'd previously discussed the re-roofing project based on the property measurements given by the owner, but it turned out the real dimensions were thankfully much less, saving me about 5000 levs. Well, kind of saving me, because I then blew much of that on plans for re-roofing one of the barns (including the section where the fireplace is). It's an essential thing to do because so much of my stuff is garden based (DIY bits, gardening tools, winter wood etc) as well as boxes of belongings which can't be unpacked until some of the house rooms are sorted out, and so the barn will be a major storage area for the first winter. Once the builder left I then started project clear out.

I plan to pretty much live in the kitchen and the neighbouring downstairs room this winter as they should be easy to keep warm (I hope) and will allow me to then take my time fixing up the rest of the house. The kitchen at the moment is where the previous owner's mother lived before she moved to Sofia with him, and, like with so many elderly Bulgarians, the one room was kitchen, living room and bedroom all rolled into one. Just off of the kitchen is a delightfully large pantry where I hope to put the freezers and all my homemade jars of food as well as other things like the precious salad cream stash, so I decided to begin in there.

You see all those plastic bottles everywhere? Well there were dozens and dozens of them, and mostly full of water. It made me wonder how often the village supply is cut off but maybe things have improved in the ten years since the old lady moved out. So began the task of carrying them out to empty over the wilting flowers in the garden before crushing the bottles flat and bagging them up ready to put in the recycling bin. The novelty of this job wore off after an hour or so, so I decided to have a break and go and nosy around up in the bedrooms.

They are much less cluttered, apart from the beds. I think so far I've counted 7 of them, all made up with bedding, and it seems that mice or rats have been enjoying free accommodation over the years judging by the amount of droppings everywhere. There's lots of big old furniture too, including two of these gorgeous chests, full of throws and thick heavy blankets (all with the overpowering pong of mothballs).

Yes that is rat poop all over the blanket!

Day two and I decided I still couldn't face anymore bottles of water, so I decided to start emptying the kitchen so I can take up the old carpet and lino. Here's a quick glimpse of the 'before' scene:

I began by the stairs and pulled out a big square dining table which was over there. Imagine my horror when I was confronted by this:

You wouldn't believe how quickly I flew out into the garden, nor how blue the air turned on the way! Once my heart rate subsided a little I studied the beastie from the doorway. It was strangely still, and, as a fly buzzed around its head, I wondered if maybe it was dead. Not wanting to take any chances I looked around for some ammo, and decided upon a fallen apple which was promptly lobbed into the kitchen at the rat. It remained where it was. Convinced it was faking death I went and found a long wooden stick and gingerly prodded it. No response; it was definitely a gonner. What a whopper though! It took quick some work to get it away from the wall though, but I shall spare you the gory details of rusty seceteurs and handfuls of fur falling out.

After disposing of the body it was a swift trip into Gabrovo to purchase several rat traps as where there's one there are bound to be more.

The little hole I imagine ratty entered via leads to a space under the stairs. A very dank place with rotten wood laid over a dirt floor, and what was possibly once the naughty corner:

Yikes. No Supernanny would persuade me to sit on that for time out!

It took most of today but the kitchen is now pretty much clear of clutter and manky old carpet, and of course several buckets of rat poop. It was literally raining down from the ceiling at one point as I ran the sweeping brush along a wooden panel. In fact, it began to feel like one of those episodes of extreme hoarders where they finally persuade the person to part with a lifetime's worth of junk before ripping the house back to the bare mouldy bones:

I'm presuming this piece of cloth is plague proof?!

Did I find any treasure? Well, amongst other things I now have a clock that ticks even if the hands don't move, an ice cube tray with amazing deep sections, two calculators, and an amazing assortment of photos dating back to the 1930s. I'd say that was a pretty good haul.