Obsessed with Buzludzha, the Remains of Bulgaria’s Communist Past

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while, but have put it off because I’m not quite sure how to unpack my feelings about Buzludzha.  Have you ever seen pictures of a place, and become so captivated by it that you are compelled to see it in person?  Even if, when you are first exposed to that single image, you have no idea where that place is?  And, when you follow clues and finally discover where it is, its remoteness doesn’t deter you, or even compels you further into obsession?  The first time I can remember this happening to me was with Erdene Zuu Khiid in Kharkhorin, Mongolia when I was maybe 13 years old – when I visited at 28 it was somewhat of a watershed travel moment.  It’s happened a limited number of times since – Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto, Japan, the Rossiya Cinema Complex in Yerevan, Armenia, and Three Brothers in Riga, Latvia come to mind.

And then I became so obsessively captivated by Buzludzha – several years ago, while I was taking a relative travel hiatus. And it was more severe than I had ever experienced before.

If you haven’t heard of Buzludzha (it must be your first time on this blog), here’s the cliff’s notes on the place.  Built in 1981, it was the grand meeting hall of the Bulgarian Communist Party until the party’s dissolution in 1990.  Bulgaria at the time was known as the greatest ally of the Soviet Union in the Eastern Bloc – neighbored by rowdy Ceaucescu in Romania and the less orthodox Tito in Yugoslavia.  After the fall of the Soviet Union and its communist buddies around Eastern Europe and Central Asia, buildings like this universally fell into disrepair.  But no building was built in such an extravagant fashion, and in such dramatic scenery as the Shipka Pass in the Central Balkan Mountains.

I can’t remember the specific place where I the image that first time, but more recently, I started seeing more and more travel bloggers of my ilk (off the beaten path types of folks, really) writing about visiting Buzludzha, and exploring the guts of the rotting concrete beauty.  At first, it was the urban exploration specialists and eccentrics, like Nate at Yomadic and Darmon at The Bohemian Blog. Tripadvisor reviews of the location, which were sparse to non existent in 2010, now seemed to be popping up weekly.  All the while, it seemed like Buzludzha was getting less and less accessible.  First they bolted the front doors shut, and my fears of the building being sealed (or worse, demolished) escalated.  I felt the need to go to Buzludzha soon, and feared that if it didn’t happen soon, it wouldn’t happen ever.

So it was serendipity that David and I were afforded ten days unfettered by work obligations in October.  As soon as the possibility of those ten days between cumbersome jobs entered my mind, I knew it was time for Buzludzha…and whatever else we could see in the region for nine days around it.

Buzludzha became the centerpiece of our inaugural Bitchin’ Balkans extravaganza.  We saw a lot of amazing things leading up to Buzludzha – we saw all kinds of religious history (medieval and more recent) in Kosovo, brutalist architecture to whet our appetites in Skopje, Macedonia, then relaxed on Lake Ohrid, and ran (literally) around Sofia.  But amazing and wonderful as those sites all were, they all were just snacks and appetizers before the main event.

It had been extremely foggy in the Central Balkan Mountains prior to our visit.  An Instagram connection had been there about a week before and barely saw the building emerge from the fog.  As we drove up Shipka Pass from Kalofer the morning we were to explore Buzludzha, David and I were quite in tense anticipation.  It was foggy as we climbed the switchbacks up the mountain, with leaves just starting to turn – late for the fall season, as it had been a warm year.  Just as we thought we’d suffer a similar fate as the urban explorer who’d come the week before, we emerged from the fog and was greeted by the object of my longtime affection.

We arrived and were the only people there by a longshot.  At the base of the structure we were afforded 360 degree views of fog lapping at the mountainsides a thousand feet below.  David and I giggled to each other as we surveyed the site.  I had read enough reviews that I knew the precise location of the entry point.  We popped in, and here’s what we found:

We stayed in the building for a few hours and, like the places that blow me away the most, I don’t feel like I can do it justice with my words.  Just go.  It exceeded my expectations tenfold –for anyone interested in modern history, architecture, the Balkans, the Russian sphere of influence, the modern art, anthropology…there is something there you will find fascinating and noteworthy inside the walls or in the journey you take to get there. I have real fears that the structure won’t be accessible in the near future – either it will be sealed permanently, or refurbished somehow to become some kind of mass market, viable tourist destination.

---

Buzludzha is located in the geographical center of Bulgaria, and is about a 2 hour drive from Sofia.  If you’re vacationing in Bulgaria, it makes a good halfway point between the towns of Plovdiv and Veliko Tarnovo – the most heavily touristed towns in the nation outside of Sofia and the Black Sea Beaches.  We had a car, so getting there was relatively easy – we used Google Maps and a wifi hotspot we rented from the car rental place and got there without difficulty.  If you don’t have a car, it’s possible to hire a taxi driver to take you there from Kazanluk or Gabrovo.  Yomadic also has connections in Plovdiv who make day trips to the monument.  Note that Buzludzha is not served by any public transportation, so you need to find a lift there.  In winter it can be snowy and icy, so roads may be treacherous.  The insides of the building are also exposed to the elements and dark, so wear sturdy shoes, work gloves, and a headlamp.  

Pin Me!