In a gallery here. I like the pencil lines on this one. It's from 1915.
The most beautiful guitar music-- he was picking-- like a Spanish guitar, and it wafted through the cobbled street as I wandered along.
Half dead, half alive. Still beautiful.
I guess a church. I didn't go in. I like the painting on the building.
A couple on the ground.
They've rebuilt this arch a zillion times, I read in my guidebook.
This church had dragons painted on the wall.
Used to seat 6,000, now I think it's about 3,000. Still amazing. And what a view!
I was a little sad to go back to Germany after my wayfaring in Bulgaria. The quiet, unassuming country of Bulgaria. There's something about Eastern Europe that feels like peacefulness to me.
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