What would be left ? (Bulgaria)

 

The train from Thessaloniki (GR) stops in the middle of the fields. Nobody moves, cicada's songs fill the wagon while three bulgarian militaries control the passport. In a few seconds, i feel myself transported to a mystic period i haven't really known. It was a bit cracked, there was still the possibility to enjoy the real silence. An unforgettable smell surfing between a vintage past and a possible alternative way toward the future. (to know more +)