Live Like a Local – with Kyossev as Your Friend and Guide

As two rather well-tailored Londoners (and a same-sex couple to boot), we approached our journey to a small Bulgarian village with a hint of trepidation. Would we be met with frowns and furrowed brows? Quite the opposite. From the very start, Nikolay enveloped us in kindness, and the villagers greeted us not with suspicion, but with smiles wide enough to rival the Pirin peaks.

Mornings began with the scent of dough and the sound of birds (somewhat more melodious than our London pigeons). Oliver, to his enduring credit, threw himself into banica with the dedication of a French pâtissier – and emerged victorious. Meanwhile, I discovered the joys of mountain air, hot springs, and conversations that ambled just as pleasantly as our hikes.

We played tennis in Sandanski (badly, but with enthusiasm), enjoyed two divine days at Pirin Golf (where we pretended to understand the sport), and visited Rupite and Baba Vanga's home – a visit made all the more mystical thanks to Nikolay's flair for the dramatic. The village of Dolene, meanwhile, was so idyllic we half expected talking animals and the sudden arrival of Julie Andrews.

And the wine? Oliver adored the crisp white, I fell for the rosé – but when the red came out, we both went completely quiet. Rare agreement. Glorious bottle.

We took charming detours to Thessaloniki and Strumica – and returned to Ilindenski each time as though returning to our countryside estate (sans butler, but with considerably better yogurt).

Truthfully, words rather fail. Nikolay didn't simply show us Bulgaria – he ushered us into its heart, soul, and kitchen. We left with lighter spirits, heavier luggage (banica ingredients), and the kind of gratitude one usually reserves for old friends and very good wine.