Exploding hills and turbo-charged gentrification in the capital of culture you’ve probably never heard of

Amidst the excitement, the mayor suggested killing some pigs. His logic went something like this: Bulgaria’s second city was about to become a European Capital of Culture, so wouldn’t it be neat to slay and roast a couple of oinkers in the main square, just like the ol’ days.

Locals deemed the faded wintertime tradition unbefitting of a cultural capital. A public backlash followed, resulting in the pigs being pardoned and the mayor claiming it had all been a “social experiment”. That’s cleared that up, then.  

It’s not the first time the mayor has found himself on the defensive. Without getting too drawn into parochial politics, much ire has been directed at his office lately due to the overrunning refurbishment of Plovdiv’s Central Square, which was the scene of last weekend’s Capital of Culture opening ceremony. It wasn’t ready in time and locals didn’t know whether to wear party hats or hard hats.  

City Hall blamed the Romans. The problem, said the suits, was that as soon as you start digging up Plovdiv – Europe’s oldest continuously inhabited city, according to some estimates (yes, even older than Athens) – another vestige of the old empire is unearthed. And so it was with the main square, where more Roman ruins were discovered as workers moved in.  

Seems reasonable, but some locals aren’t having it. Then again, they seem to enjoy grumbling – a bit like the Brits.

“What you have to remember about Bulgarian people is that they like to complain,” explains Andrey Hristev, a hirsute bartender at the Cat & Mouse pub in Plovdiv’s trendy Kapana district.

“I’m tired of all the negativity,” interrupts Viktoria Tashkova, a local architect, who later invites me dancing with her pals. “People here are making the effort.”

There’s much to suggest she’s right. Not only have the good folk of Plovdiv mustered a successful Capital of Culture bid, but they’ve also tried to recast their city – population 344,000 – as Bulgaria’s capital of cool (much to the amusement of some Sofians).

EU membership, the arrival of budget airlines and Capital of Culture status have helped Plovdiv find its mojo. Policy has also played a part (take a bow Mr Mayor), particularly in the labyrinthine Kapana district – AKA “The Trap” – where the biggest changes have taken place.

Abandoned during the communist era, when the quarter was even earmarked for demolition, Kapana’s rundown lanes became a parking lot for the nearby high street, whose shops are to retail what Bulgaria Air’s in-flight rag is to journalism.

Nevertheless, the parade still trumps most European high streets simply for the fact that halfway down it there’s a partially-excavated Roman stadium and a gorgeous Ottoman mosque, two of Plovdiv’s main architectural highlights. Beats Argos and Ladbrokes.  

The rest of the stadium sits beneath shops, alas, including a local branch of H&M, where archaeologists were allowed in to excavate the basement. The exposed ruins now serve as a useful hook to get punters through the door.  

Back to Kapana, though, whose fortunes started changing after Plovdiv won its bid to become European Capital of Culture. The municipality started by banning cars from the streets and then offered entrepreneurs free rent for a year to help them set up shop. This turbo-charged a process of gentrification that has, in a few short years, turned Kapana into hipster central.

The district’s craft beer pubs, artisan coffee shops and concept restaurants are all faithfully on tone, with their sanctioned street art, filament lightbulbs and plywood furniture. Fixie bikes and beards are also de rigueur. There’s even a veggie restaurant, once anathema in the Balkans, where most meals contain something’s flesh.

“I don’t like that they push this hipster culture, but it’s cool, it works,” says Mario Boychev, an opera singer from Plovdiv, now living in Sofia, also drinking in the Cat & Mouse.  

Kapana was originally intended to be an arts hub and a handful of galleries opened when rents were free. But when curators had to start making ends meet, most were replaced by trendy bars and restaurants, which, for all their hipster clichés, give the city a youthful energy that has long been absent.

Like the rest of Bulgaria, Plovdiv experienced a brain drain after joining the EU in 2007, with younger generations seeking new opportunities abroad. Locals reckon the tide’s coming back in, though, bringing with it the flotsam of money and ideas.

“When I was growing up the city was dead, many people were leaving,” recalls Lina Krivoshieva, a local photographer, who herself made for Berlin. “But people are moving back – and they’re bringing ideas with them.” Many, it seems, make a beeline for Kapana.

You can quaff coffee with beard-stroking baristas in most cities nowadays. But only in Plovdiv can you climb the cobbled streets of the Old Town, through clowders of stray cats, to the ancient Roman theatre (pictured top).

Dating back to 90AD, or thereabouts, Plovdiv’s landmark attraction proves the city was a capital of culture before the EU said so. Drama here is not restricted to the stage: the theatre serves up spectacular views of the city and the Rhodope Mountains beyond.

Many a performer will creep the boards of the ancient theatre this year, predominately during the summer, when Plovdiv’s cultural programme properly kicks in (only masochists visit during the bitter winter months).

Plovdiv, incidentally, is affectionately known as the “City of Seven Hills”, which is misleading because there are only six. The seventh was blown up and turned into road ballast, which probably seemed like a good idea at the time.

Clinging to one of the remaining hills is the Old Town, which smells of woodsmoke and is lauded for its colourful, 19th-century houses. They went up during the Bulgarian National Revival, when ideas of independence and expressionism started sprouting from cracks in the Ottoman Empire. The top-heavy buildings are magnificent and almost meet in the middle along some streets.

“Owners paid tax on the size of the ground floor,” explains my guide, Nenko Manolov, a student from Plovdiv. “They took tax evasion to another level.” He did warn me about his jokes.

The Revival culminated in independence for present-day Bulgaria, opening the door to western ideas and culture. The communist regime of the 1940s soon put paid to that, though, stubbing out capitalism like the cheap fags that locals still enthusiastically smoke.

Bulgarians seem to harbour little desire to cling to the past, particularly the Cold War era. Consequently, there are plenty of relics from the regime days gathering dust in the Old Town’s antique shops, which sit alongside art galleries, pretty churches and souvenir stores.

The Ethnographic Museum provides another portal into the past. Dusty exhibits showcase Bulgarian folk traditions, which are also kept alive down the nearby Street of Crafts, where embroiders, carpenters and instrument makers ply their dying trades in timeworn workshops.

Most studios are closed when I visit, but from one crooked building I hear someone trying to coax a tune out of some bagpipes, another Bulgarian tradition. The sound is murderous, but with some practice perhaps one day it could be something beautiful. Who knows? Maybe the town square will be ready by then too.

How to get there

Ryanair flies to Plovdiv from Stansted. Other airlines – including BA, easyJet and Bulgaria Air – link Sofia with various UK airports. The Bulgarian capital is two hours by road from Plovdiv.  

Where to stay

Located in the Old Town and festooned with antiques, Hotel Evmolpia (hotelevmolpia.com) has bags of character. Free wine and cheese is served every evening.   

More information

For more information about the Capital of Culture programme, which focuses on the theme of togetherness, visit plovdiv2019.eu. Further details about the city can be found at visitplovdiv.com.