Sitting on one of the tables outside the restaurant, I watched people walking by and the trams coming and going, all while enjoying my meal.

• As I observed this smooth public transportation system, I couldn’t help but reflect: why are people in my homeland left at the mercy of private transporters? Isn’t it the state’s duty to provide affordable and efficient public transport?

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

In November 2023, a thought crossed my mind during a quiet moment that ‘Morai Soomra, why not take a solo trip to Bulgaria?’ Without overthinking, I began making bookings — flights, taxis, buses, and a hotel. Traveling requires preparation, and while bookings can be a hassle, they are a necessary part of the journey.

On the 24th of November, I reached Stockholm Central Station to catch the airport shuttle bus to Skavsta Airport. As I stood in line, I was pleasantly surprised to see my university friend, Dr. Lea, join the queue. It had been quite a while since we last met. Lea, originally from Croatia, had settled in Sweden after completing her studies.

We spent the bus ride chatting all the way to the airport, catching up on life, discussing old memories, and sharing news about mutual friends. Lea was headed to Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, that same day. At the airport, we sat together for some tea and refreshments, exchanged warm wishes for our respective trips, and then parted ways.

I made my way to the gate for my Wizz Air flight to Sofia. Judging by the crowd, the flight seemed fully booked. Thankfully, after a smooth flight of around two and a half hours, we landed in Bulgaria’s capital, Sofia. The airport wasn’t very large, but it was equipped with automated e-gates where passengers could scan their passports and proceed without much hassle.

I had pre-booked a pickup taxi arranged by the hotel. As I stepped outside, the taxi was nowhere to be seen. I called the hotel and was told that the driver was on the way but slightly delayed due to traffic. Just as I was still on the phone, I noticed a pickup approaching — the driver reiterated the same: traffic delay. It was raining in Sofia, and the streets were slick and glistening.

The driver, who, I suspected, might also be the hotel owner, mentioned that snowfall was expected the next day. In about thirty minutes, we arrived at my hotel, Niky, nestled on Neofit Rilski Street. At the reception, I was informed about the breakfast timings and location. I thanked the receptionist, grabbed a city map, and headed to my room.

I didn’t have much luggage — just a backpack, from which I hung up my clothes in the closet. I put a water bottle and an umbrella in my bag, then stepped out to explore. Conveniently, the hotel was located in the heart of the city.

As I exited the hotel street, I soon reached Vitosha Boulevard — Sofia’s iconic pedestrian thoroughfare. There, I noticed an elderly woman seated in a chair with flowers laid out in front of her for sale. The rain had polished the street’s surface, making the cobblestones gleam in varying hues of beige, brown, and red. The boulevard was lined with branded stores, souvenir shops, restaurants, bars, and cafés.

Large flower beds and decorative trees adorned the sidewalk. Outdoor seating areas of restaurants were sheltered with large canopies to keep guests dry. The atmosphere felt cozy and inviting. The surrounding buildings were painted in distinct colors, each with its own character. Though the skies remained overcast and the air was cold, the city had a certain charm that warmed the heart.

Walking down the boulevard, I crossed a large intersection. On my left stood the Sofia City Court, a grand off-white building flanked by majestic lion statues. The area was bustling with people, colorful trams moved along steel tracks, and cars crowded the wet roads. A light drizzle continued, making the city feel like a scene from a moody romantic film.

I walked further and reached St. Nedelya Square, where the impressive St. Nedelya Cathedral stood. I wanted to step inside, but it appeared to be closed at the time. The rain alternated between light and heavy as I wandered onward to another square — this one particularly fascinating. Beneath the entire junction was an underground shopping center. People descended the stairs into the hub, which opened up to multiple pathways and stores.

Within this complex lay the Ancient Serdica Archaeological Complex, a modest yet captivating set of ruins located amidst modern buildings. Looking at these remains reminded me of Mohen jo-daro back home. Among the ruins was a small, medieval Orthodox church — St. Petka of the Saddlers.

Interestingly, the ruins were several meters below street level, making them visible to pedestrians above. Nearby stood important government institutions such as the National Assembly of Bulgaria, the Council of Ministers, and several churches and museums. Not far from there, I reached the Banya Bashi Mosque, a striking structure built in the Ottoman style. Worshippers were exiting after the Friday prayers as I entered to admire its interiors.

The mosque brought to mind the influence of the Ottoman Empire in the region. Bulgaria was, after all, under Ottoman rule for a long time. Interestingly, Prince Abdul Qadir, the son of Sultan Abdul Hamid II — one of the empire’s most powerful rulers — is buried somewhere in Sofia.

Close to the mosque are several historic fountains and monuments. Just a hundred meters away lies the Central Synagogue of Sofia, a Jewish place of worship, though I didn’t manage to visit it. Tourists were plentiful in the area, and I continued exploring — sometimes around the National Assembly, other times near the ruins.

There stood a grand Saint Sofia Monument, regarded as the city’s patron. After strolling through shops and alleyways, I made my way back up the stairs from the underground mall. A young musician was playing on the street, hoping for donations. The cold hit me again as I surfaced, so I pulled out an extra jacket from my backpack. Autumn had taken hold — trees were shedding their leaves, many already faded in color.

From Cathedrals to Christmas Markets

My next destination in Sofia was the city’s iconic landmark — the Saint Alexander Nevsky Orthodox Cathedral. I decided to walk there, guided sometimes by maps, sometimes by Google, and occasionally by asking people along the way. Passing through different roads and narrow alleys, I finally reached this monumental symbol of Sofia.

The cathedral sits at the center of a large square encircled by a wide roundabout, from which five or six roads diverge in different directions. It was raining, the cold was sharp, and people were out and about. Some were there for prayer, while others, like me, were tourists drawn by the beauty of historical sites.

From a distance, the cathedral’s golden and green domes glistened. The streets leading to it were mostly paved with stone bricks. Construction of the cathedral began in 1882 and was completed by 1912. It was built in memory of the Russian soldiers who died in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877–78, a conflict that ultimately led to Bulgaria’s liberation from the Ottoman Empire.

Nearby, just a short walk away, stand several notable institutions: the Bulgarian Academy of Sciences, Sofia University, the National Academy of Arts, the Central Military Club, the Geological Museum, Bulgaria’s old National Assembly building, the National Gallery, and a grand statue of Alexander II of Russia — also known as the “Tsar Liberator.”

I wandered the area for quite a while, soaking in the atmosphere. On my way back, I passed through the city’s Crystal Garden, where alongside human sculptures, there were also a few of animals. Not far from there are the City Garden and the National Theatre. Eventually, I made my way back to Vitosha Boulevard, which by evening had become vibrant and full of life. Restaurants, cafes, and bars were bustling, and the souvenir shops were visibly crowded.

Instead of heading straight to the hotel, I continued walking toward the other side of the boulevard, where I came upon a large park hosting a Christmas market. I decided to explore. Inside, the crowd was thick — it felt like a festival. Most of the stalls were dedicated to food and drinks. Children and adults alike seemed to be enjoying themselves. In the chilly, rainy weather, many were sipping on hot beverages. The whole market was beautifully decorated with lights and colorful bulbs.

Whenever I visit such temporary festive markets, I’m reminded of the Meena Bazaars in Moro from my childhood, though I doubt they exist anymore. I still wonder why they were called Meena Bazaars and what purpose they truly served — only God knows.

As the skies grew heavier with thick clouds, I found myself back on the hotel street. I entered a shop to buy a carton of milk. The shop was run by an elderly woman who didn’t understand English, so I used Google Translate to convert my words into Bulgarian — that solved the issue. Along with milk, I picked up some biscuits. Back at the hotel, I brewed a cup of tea in my room, enjoyed it with the biscuits, and listened to some soulful Sindhi music — a comforting to the cold, rainy day.

The next day, I was scheduled to travel to another Bulgarian city, Plovdiv, for which I had already made reservations. I made a quick call to reconfirm the time and location. With everything sorted and feeling well-rested, I headed out once more for a walk and to find dinner.

I had a brief chat with the receptionist, informing her that I would be leaving early in the morning for my trip out of Sofia. I requested her to book a taxi for me in advance — one that was cashless and could accept card payments. She agreed without hesitation.

Once again, I found myself strolling through Vitosha Boulevard, which was even more vibrant at night. Eventually, I reached the Sofia Court Square, where a Turkish kebab restaurant named Ali Baba had caught my eye earlier. I headed straight there.

Sitting on one of the tables outside the restaurant, I watched people walking by and the trams coming and going, all while enjoying my meal. As I observed this smooth public transportation system, I couldn’t help but reflect: why are people in my homeland left at the mercy of private transporters? Isn’t it the state’s duty to provide affordable and efficient public transport?

In my imagination, I saw modern buses, trams, and underground metros running in cities like Karachi, Moro, Sakrand, Nawabshah, Hyderabad, Sukkur, Mirpurkhas, Mithi, Badin, Larkana, and many others across Sindh. Suddenly, the sound of a tram horn brought me back to Sofia from those dreams.

After finishing my meal, there wasn’t much else to do. The cold and rain added to the sense of closure. I decided to return to the hotel. Once there, I browsed some books laid out in the hotel lobby, then retired to my room where I listened to some more music before drifting off to sleep