A few years ago, I chanced across a blog written by a dude who was cycling the backwater road from Varna to Burgas, in Bulgaria. Of course, he saw many interesting and unusual things along the way, but what particularly struck him were the numerous ladies who lined the quiet country roads.
I was intrigued as to why these daytime ladies of the night were plying their trade alongside quiet country lanes. One day, my friend and I decided to set out on a road trip. In the interests of research and understanding more about the contemporary situation in Bulgaria β I suggested that we travel to Burgas along the winding rural roads.
The driver agreed, and so the trip suddenly had a purpose β we would go searching for some mythical creatures. Both towns obviously cater for anything that tourists could possibly want, with cheap booze, drugs and prostitution high on the list. Having seen the trade played out quite openly in the streets of Varna, I was sceptical as to why any of the women would choose to work on country roads.
It was about noon before my designated driver and I hit the road. I felt that unless the prostitutes of Varna had union rules about going out in the midday sun, this would be a perfect time to spot the ladies. Less than metres after turning onto the road the cycling blogger had described, there she was β standing in a lay-by and dressed like she was going to a party.
Spotting us, she beckoned us over. With a cheerful wave in return, we declined her friendly offer, and continued along the road. So now we knew, the ladies did actually exist. Haggard is perhaps the most polite description I can muster.
