Abandoned in Bulgaria #6: Monument Бuzludja

Recently I finally went to see Buzludja. A friend called me around nine in the evening and said he was leaving the next day and there was a free space in the car, so if I wanted I could go. I wanted. Not by interest in the architecture of the building, nor by any special sympathy for the ideas he symbolizes. The next day I get up early, tighten up a bag with a little food, water and a sweatshirt, we wear a bright red t-shirt for the joke, and we leave with an hour's delay from our initial arrangement. Nothing, Sunday is, the whole day is ahead of us.

We climb a steep path, at the end of which we are well breathing. At one time the entrances of the chapels and the various saints of the fountains in the villages are built low so that one will not bow. Climbing to Buzludja Monument reminds me of this approach - as if the exhausted physical people are more prone to the impact of giant buildings designed to impose respect.

At the foot of the building we are already confronted with reality. From the impressive building, noisy water flows from the last rain, thanks to the many holes in the ceiling and now running through the same amount of holes in the floor. The official entrances to the building are either concreted or blocked with thick iron, but we soon find the side door and part of our group snakes in. For the short time I am waiting for, I see as many as a dozen people come in and go to the building, half of whom are foreigners. Outside, the building is ruined, broken glass, rusty iron, and graffiti, some conceptual, others plainly bland, but not all in the same way with its type and idea. The "Ruby" Pentagon, the building's tower, which has been decorated, has long been destroyed by greedy red vandal-like glasses.

Regardless of the feelings of the regime before the 89th - whether they were delusions, indifference or hatred, it is difficult when Buzludzha's visit did not perceive at least a part of the melancholy lurking around the building, typical of the abandoned toys and the images of the old courtesans. When I was a child, I had a Christmas tree that a family buys and decorates, and after the end of the holiday season it leaves to dry and finally burns and as we travel back, I can not compare the monument to Buzludja with the miserable tree of the fairy tale . A building in which huge amounts of money, labor, ideas and creativity are invested, even though ideologically conditioned, perhaps even a certain amount of love, insofar as the realization of any undertaking requires such. A building dressed in the shadows of long-lost slogans and embellished with new ones, the product of the hate of the post-communist generation, which, deprived of the opportunity to fight communism, chose to ruin its creations as if they were themselves guilty of origin Yours. A building that could be a museum if it is going to be ironic to collect the symbols of a period that even destroys any material trace of it will continue to exist as part of the history of the country, He wants to be different.

I'll add some more photos taken by me, as well as a video made by a friend of mine. I hope you enjoyed it.