In part one of this article about Ignat, Gerry and I, a.k.a. Project I.G.I., we covered the in-door session at ' Power and Motion'. This second post, regarding subsequent events of that day, will delve deeper into our adventure and take you on a virtual walkabout to a most peculiar of places...
We stood staring at those taunting ruins across the river, my tremulous hands resting on the windowsill, both my friends already smiling, knowingly, at either side. We agreed that the task was only halfway done, and that there was more to be squeezed out of the situation. I braced myself, grabbed my lady's hand and jumped in the back seat of Ignat's car. The initial idea was to stop by our town's version of Subway and resupply for the trip to come. Aspirations of rewarding ourselves, for the good job done so far, evaporated quicker than a 2lbs bucket of protein powder on a kitchen counter. We arrived at the fast-food joint only to find it locked down for the weekend. Having admitted defeat, with growling stomachs and nothing but a bottle of water in the car, we set off towards the originally intended destination.
Driving up to the restaurant proved no biggie. Traffic was non-existent and Ignat's cruising made for a smooth ride. Hands down, we were at the spot. That's when the seriousness of the matter dawned on us. Apparently the roof of the structure had collapsed due to heavy rain those past couple of weeks.
The entrances to the building were wrapped with police line from top to bottom, sealing them off to the general public. According to local newspapers, a partial collapse of the interior had claimed the lives of two people in recent years. The way we saw it, there were two possible outcomes: turn tail and bail or go Bedrock style! Needless to say, option No:1 was immediately discarded. We were determined to see the shoot through, come what may. Keeping our surroundings in mind, and cautiously examining the scene, we made our way to whatever was left of the restaurant's once grand balcony.
Once on the top floor, safe and sound, we took our time, enjoying the peaceful view of the world below. Our world. People often refer to it as 'City of the Tsars'. There is no need here for gleaming epithets or lengthy descriptions, only a yearning hope that you, reader, would be able to one day find yourself in our footsteps and witness first hand the primal beauty of 'The Old Capital'.
The moment for romantic contemplation winked out faster than we would've liked, as we were reminded, by an increasingly loud rumbling in our intestines, that there was still work to be done. The lens was off and within minutes Ignat already had a fair number of shots to show us. Having to thread lightly, lest we find ourselves two stories down the quick way, and steering clear of the enormous cave in at the centre of the balcony, made for thrilling shoot.
Naturally, after being confronted by a worthy challenge, in the face of such unstable terrain, and retaining all of our limbs by the end of the session, we would have packed our gear and called it a day...
But!
One question kept us on that balcony. A nagging uncertainty that just wouldn't go away.
What if this was it? What if this was our final shot, the last we would see of this place? For all we knew, next time around the entire structure could be gone. The walls that have stood for years, perched on top of the hill, looming over Veliko Tarnovo, and the memories they held within, reduced down to nothing more but a pile of rubble.
With two whole floors to explore beneath our feet, each one with its own set of risks and potential, we decided to go for broke.
The end result?Well now... as a good friend of mine would say:
'... a tale I choose to be relived and retold,
a tale of friendship, adventure and gold.' (mm)
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