22nd April 1971

C/O British embassy

Boulevard Marshal Tolbukhin

Sofia

22/4/71

Dear Mum and Dad,

Just a short note to tell you what my plans are for May. I shall be going to Russe in Northern Bulgaria on Thursday and Friday 29^th and 30^th April. I shall try and get a ticket to come to the UK on Saturday from Sofia via Frankfurt.  In this case I will be home Saturday evening.

However if for any reason the plane from Russe is delayed on Friday I may miss my flight on Saturday as it leaves at 8.30 in the morning. Tomorrow I will do some shopping for your birthday. I have already bought a little something for Christopher and Nicola in Austria.

I hope Paula and David had a good time in the Isle of Wight.

Will see you soon

Lots of Love

Gillian and Tony

The visit to Russe was quite an experience. At Sofia Airport we were one of the first to check in for the flight and waited patiently near the door to the tarmac. When the flight was announced and the doors opened, all the passengers raced across the runway to the waiting Antonov 24. A small step-ladder had been lowered from the fuselage door and the passengers, now in a great bulge at the foot of the steps, pushed & shoved to get on. By now we were at the back of the queue and watched in surprise at the tussle on the steps as a short dumpy middle aged lady in bulky traditional costume, carrying a live chicken upside-down by its legs, pushed a business man out of the way to get on the plane. An orderly queue was unheard of at that time in Sofia.

The plane, a Russian built Antonov 24 with two turbo prop engines, had its 45-50 seats fully occupied once we were finally seated. Our destination of the city of Russe on the Danube in the north east was about an hour away, but didn’t have a commercial airport. We were to land at a military air base some way outside Russe. Strict instructions were issued that we were not allowed to take photographs or notes on arrival at the airfield. Normally, I was told, any military activity would be suspended for the arrival of this commercial flight. However, as we coasted in a group of Russian Mig jet fighters on a parallel runway were practicing ‘bumps’ landings (landing, taking off immediately, circling in turn, and then repeating the process over and over again). We were all hustled of the plane at top speed into a waiting military coach, with blinds drawn, and taken to a large corrugated iron shed where our documents were inspected. Then on to Russe by rickety bus.

Learning to fight your way onto planes and taxis left its scar. On a trip to the Uk, Gill found herself being tutted at as she jumped to the front of the queue at Euston Station when the barrier to the platform was raised. She looked up to see the British in an orderly line making comments like ‘Did you see that? She was behind me.’