I told myself that maybe, one day, I would manage to capture a kestrel in a somewhat decent frame. But vultures? That would be the big league. That\u2019s where professional photographers from YouTube go, \u201creal\u201d photographers and mentors for people like me\u2026 not us, the ordinary mortals who get excited when the focus is right when photographing a pole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On top of that, I was convinced that such an experience costs as much as a serious vacation. And realistically speaking, what\u2019s the point of spending a lot of money if you\u2019re not yet at the level to get something out of it? You end up with no money and a memory card full of more or less questionable shots. So I left the idea there, for \u201csomeday\u201d… after years of work, experience and, probably, a serious upgrade in self-confidence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The trip starts to make sense<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
One day, I receive a link from my friend and photo trip partner. A site from Bulgaria, simple. Maybe too simple. The kind of site you look at twice before clicking anything and even then you cross yourself three times, say five prayers and ward off evil, just in case you\u2019ve infected your computer. In my head, the calculations had already started. Budget, days off and inevitably, a convincing story for my wife. Not that you leave home for vultures without a well-thought-out plan\u2026 or at least a good story told with enough confidence. Then I saw the price: 170 euros per person. Or 100 euros if we are at least two. I read it again. Then again. That\u2019s it?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n My entire mental construction of an \u201cexclusive, inaccessible experience\u201d collapsed in a few seconds. It was no longer a distant dream. It was the kind of expense you make and then pretend it never happened. Suddenly, vultures were no longer just for \u201cothers\u201d! Everything seemed arranged. Too arranged. As if the Universe looked at us and said: \u201cthis is too nice, too simple, too good.\u201d And decided to intervene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The first hit came indirectly, to my friend. Not serious, but enough to disrupt our rhythm. We thought it would pass. It didn\u2019t. Because immediately after, the second hit came, this time to me. The kind that leaves no room for negotiation. And just like that, our perfectly organized plan quietly returned to its favorite drawer: \u201cmaybe, someday\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A period of readjustment followed: professional, personal\u2026 and photographic. I still managed to save something, right before the final blow: a vacation in Greece, where I combined beach time with the family and my outings through wetlands, chasing pelicans, storks and anything that had the decency to stay still for two seconds\u2014as long as the family allowed it and didn\u2019t declare me crazy. It wasn\u2019t Madzharovo and vultures, but it was enough to not completely forget why I liked wildlife photography.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After a long winter and a period when photography was mostly on pause, the idea came back. This time, simpler. No big plans. No \u201csomeday\u201d. In January, I opened my favorite booking site and searched: Madzharovo. The result? Three accommodation options. Tough decisions, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I chose one without much philosophy: two rooms, decent price, payment at the property. Sounds like luxury when you don\u2019t have to pay upfront. I book, then make a short call to my partner in crime: \u201cOfficial notice: this spring \u2014 Madzharovo, vultures. Accommodation sorted. Attendance mandatory. Any objections can be submitted later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The answer was exactly what I needed: \u201cgood thing you told me in advance.\u201d Which, freely translated, means: \u201cI have no escape, this is my fate now.\u201d Next step: booking the photography day at the hide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few emails to the organization. A few days of total silence. At one point I was convinced my messages were being delivered on horseback to Bulgaria and coming back with a handwritten approval, only on sunny days. But eventually, the reply came. We had a reserved day. Saturday. The plan was finally becoming real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We decided to leave on Friday, no rush. Anyway, with Bulgarian speed cameras, the whole \u201clet\u2019s go faster to arrive sooner\u201d thing has become more of a distant memory. The only thing left that we couldn\u2019t control was the weather.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And inevitably, I kept thinking about the classic scenario: rain, cold, no birds\u2026 and an entire day in the hide, staring at each other and wondering where we went wrong in life. But after all the effort to get there, it didn\u2019t even matter anymore. This time, we were actually going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the big day, I decided to call the people who would take us to the hide, to set the meeting point and departure time. The return, according to the website, was calculated using historical methods: after sunset. Done and done. I call, a short, sharp voice answers: \u201cYes!\u201d. A \u201cyes\u201d that doesn\u2019t reassure you at all, but at least confirms you didn\u2019t call for nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With my heart in my throat, I start discussing details. Everything is fine\u2026 until I tell him where we\u2019re staying. A short pause, then: \u201cOh\u2026 OK\u2026 not so good. But I can meet you there. Take care!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A \u201ctake care\u201d that doesn\u2019t sound like concern, but like a warning. Freely translated: \u201cI hope you\u2019re still alive when I come pick you up.\u201d I hang up and call my friend: The hair on my neck stood up instantly. I decided to sleep on it. Around midnight I wake up suddenly, in one of those moments when your brain decides it\u2019s time to process every bad decision you\u2019ve ever made. First thought: they haven\u2019t charged me yet. Perfect!<\/p>\n\n\n\n In less than 10 minutes I was already on Booking<\/a>, looking for something else. This time, with a simple criterion: to be sure there is a next day for us. I find something decent. Twin room, similar price. No more luxury of a room alone, but a much more important advantage: real chances of seeing the morning. I book immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The next day, around noon, I call again to give them the new accommodation details and set the new meeting point. This time, the reaction is instant: \u201cYes! That\u2019s good. It is newly renovated!\u201d. Translation: \u201cWell done, you picked the option where I don\u2019t have to explain what happened to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The departure day arrives. The road starts classic: Romania towards Greece, summer vibes, like going to the seaside \u2014 because the Romanian coast has mastered the rare skill of combining Dubai-level prices with a fairground atmosphere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At Ruse \u2014 traffic. About half an hour waiting. And that\u2019s the good scenario since there\u2019s no more border control. We\u2019re in Schengen, but the bridge still seems to be negotiating with time. Work is ongoing on the Bulgarian side\u2026 at its own pace. One screw today, one bolt tomorrow\u2026 no rush, the process matters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We finally cross and the good part begins. Long road, but relaxed. No rush, no speed experiments \u2014 as mentioned, Bulgarian radars don\u2019t appreciate enthusiasm. Around 600 km ahead. Music, stories, landscapes. The last part of the road feels like going back in time. About 50 km of asphalt that looks like it was laid when people were still debating whether it was needed. You avoid one pothole and fall into two. At some point you start negotiating with the car: \u201cjust a bit more and I\u2019ll let you rest.\u201d But somehow, we arrive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On the sides of the road entering the town, an authentic countryside feeling, like when I was a kid. Cows, horses, goats and other animals peacefully roaming, untouched by time \u2014 let alone by two owls and a tiny car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We enter Madzharovo and right at the entrance, I look up. In the sky \u2014 two vultures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Big, calm, circling. Then I see two more. And two more. At that moment, the entire journey, all the calculations, all the emotions\u2026 disappear. It didn\u2019t matter how we got there. Not even if we were leaving. They were there. And for the first time, they weren\u2019t just in a photo from a course. They were real. And they were close.<\/p>\n\n\n And for the next day we finally had a clear promise: that we would truly see them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the evening, accommodation \u2014 solved mostly through gestures: in Madzharovo it seems only three people speak English \u2014 the guy on the phone, me, and my friend. After check-in \u2014 food. Starving, we try to order fries using the \u201cpoint at what the girl at reception is eating\u201d method \u2014 and it works. I froze for a moment. I never had a brother, and my father was fully Romanian, from near the Danube\u2026 that side closer to Tulcea, not Bulgaria. At best, I could\u2019ve been Lipovan, definitely not Bulgarian. The next day, at 5:30 in the morning, we meet the man from the phone. Surprisingly, probably the most pleasant interaction I\u2019ve had with a Bulgarian. Calm, with freshly made coffee in hand, just woken up, zero rush.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He came to pick us up with a 90s Mitsubishi 4×4, a car that doesn\u2019t impress anyone\u2026 but takes you anywhere, and most importantly, brings you back. The car was basically his office on wheels. He had everything he needed to stay for days in the area. On the way, he explained the rules very clearly: what to do, what not to do, when to move, when not to breathe too loudly. In short: if we want good shots, we listen. If not\u2026 we can just sit quietly and enjoy the landscape. He also told us about the area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And this is worth saying clearly: Madzharovo is not just \u201ca place with vultures\u201d. It\u2019s a protected area, almost a sanctuary. Vultures come here year after year, from Africa, for breeding. It\u2019s one of the few places in Europe where you can see this so closely.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I sat in the front. The car \u2014 right-hand drive. The road \u2014 narrow, muddy, full of bold rocks. The experience \u2014 like a rollercoaster without a seatbelt. At every bump, my body made decisions independent of my brain. My hand was gripping the handle, and my mind oscillated between \u201cit\u2019s fine\u201d and \u201cwhy are we doing this?!\u201d. The Bulgarian\u2026 relaxed, sipping coffee and talking. And oddly enough, that helped: his calm cut through the tension.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We arrive at the hide. Total silence. No introductions, no ceremony. Just silence. In that moment I realized something important: this is no longer a place for talking. My friend is the kind of person who always has something to say. And honestly, most of the time he\u2019s worth listening to. But here it was a different game. This is where patience begins. This is where silence begins. And without realizing it, I stepped into a space that felt familiar. That place where I can sit still for hours, stare out the window, talk to myself in my head, build scenarios: how the first vulture will come, where the light will fall, whether they\u2019ll fight, whether I\u2019ll catch the moment or be left only with the memory. Outside it was quiet. But in my head, the show had already started.<\/p>\n\n\n Click! The first photo of the eagle. I don\u2019t want to miss the opportunity, especially now that it\u2019s clear. Click! Click! More photos. I start to feel like I have control, like I\u2019m actually getting something out of what I\u2019ve done so far. And then the first griffon vulture appears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Total silence. My friend wants to say something. I signal to him, he stops. We both freeze. The griffon stands, analyzes, waits. A few more appear. They settle on the rocks, at a distance. This is no longer photography, it\u2019s chess… Suddenly, a few griffons take off abruptly. In my head: that\u2019s it, we ruined everything. Who moved? Did you move? Me? Did I speak too loudly? Did I breathe too deeply?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n No! The truth comes out of the bushes. Drawn by the smell, a curious jackal came to see what the chef is preparing on this beautiful day. It enters the scene uninvited, bold, hungry. Not long after, a fox appears as well. Smaller, more cautious, much more calculated. It approaches, analyzes, steals a bit, stays for a few moments. I manage to take a few shots. Then it disappears, quickly, as if it had never been there. The eagle leaves as well. The griffons and the black vultures remain. One griffon approaches the sheep and timidly begins to feast. The others are still waiting. They want to see if their friend will manage to eat or be eaten. One by one, they lift off from the ground, circle around, then slowly begin to approach. Now there are two eating. Then three, four, seven! And the feast begins! With all kinds of sounds, like a party that\u2019s been going on for three days and three nights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One griffon gets angry and attacks another. It spreads its wings. Jumps! The other falls, screams! The one above stays for a few seconds with its wings wide open, head held high. A moment where it seems to say: \u201csee? that\u2019s how it\u2019s done, I\u2019m the best!\u201d. Then it lets go and dives straight into the prey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As we were to find out later, the rule is simple: the hungriest ones enter the feast first. In case they arrive later, they make their way through this kind of fight. The rest\u2026 wait for the right moment to attack or (the younger ones) learn.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n For almost three hours, the show doesn\u2019t stop. Attacks, retreats, pushing, screams! At some point, around noon, the pace starts to slow down. We already have hundreds of good shots. And slowly, the vultures start to leave, one by one. First, the griffons begin to leave. They circle a few times above the hide, as if in a sign of gratitude for such a feast, then, in groups of two or three pairs, they slowly drift away. Then, the last black vulture leaves as well. In a way, it came first and it\u2019s also the one closing the bar. It comes back once more, as if it had forgotten the last bite on the plate and it\u2019s too annoyed to leave it behind. It swallows a bone, then stretches its wings and disappears into the horizon. The weather is on our side\u2026 until it isn\u2019t. Morning \u2014 perfect. Good light, a bit of fog rising from the valley, dream-like atmosphere. After noon \u2014 rain. Showers. Lightning. Hail. Small for us. Lower down, as we later found out, serious chunks, as big as a cherry. The roads had turned into rivers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wolves didn\u2019t show up. But honestly, it didn\u2019t even matter anymore. We already had everything we came looking for. We left with strong memories and a lot of photographs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My friend also left with a few bumps \u2014 the hide was quite low, and for someone who doesn\u2019t stay still for too long, the beams become\u2026 invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We leave the location right after sunset, with the same car and the same enthusiasm we arrived with. Only now it felt different. It wasn\u2019t that initial excitement mixed with uncertainty anymore. It was that kind of quiet satisfaction, where you know it was worth it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I couldn\u2019t wait to get home and open the first shots. Not because I expected perfection, but because I knew the entire experience was in them. But until then\u2026 we still had one more night in Madzharovo, with my new \u201cbrother\u201d from the shop, a hotel that in the meantime seemed determined not to kill me until morning, and another 600 km of road. On the way, we make what seemed like a good decision: \u201cLet\u2019s eat in Veliko T\u00e2rnovo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n It sounded good. It seemed logical. It wasn\u2019t. We parked. Didn\u2019t read the signs. Ate peacefully. When we came back\u2026 silence. The car was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We had parked in a hotel parking lot, and the hotel staff had called the local police. The car \u2014 towed. No phone call, no warning, nothing, even though our number was in the window and it was obvious we were tourists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The fine? About as much as the entire meal we had just finished. The kind of trip ending that brings you back down to earth a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sure, it was our fault. Tired, in a foreign country, thinking more about the road than about signs. But it doesn\u2019t help much when you realize that next to an empty parking spot. Luckily, everything got resolved relatively quickly. We recovered the car, paid the \u201clesson\u201d, and got back on the road. And inevitably, my mind drifted back to the photos. To the silence in the hide. To the first wings that appeared in the sky, to the controlled chaos around the prey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was, without exaggeration, one of the best weekends of the year. And probably the best way to return to writing, after a long break. Because sometimes you don\u2019t need perfect plans. Just a \u201cone spring\u201d that, at some point, actually happens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the page, written big: \u041c\u0410\u0414\u0416\u0410\u0420\u041e\u0412\u041e<\/a><\/strong>. And between the lines\u2026 vultures. Then I read \u201cHide\u201d (observation point), photographers, birds of prey. It was starting to sound suspiciously good. Now I had the place, I had the subject. The classic problem remained: how much does this cost and do I need to check if I still have both kidneys?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All that was left was to choose the moment. I looked over the periods, discussed it again with my friend, postponed a bit\u2026 and we both reached a very well-defined conclusion for the photography window: \u201csometime in spring.\u201d
In my head, the plan was already set: car \u2014 checked, location \u2014 checked, costs \u2014 checked. I had already started telling others how great it would be, as if I had already returned with cover-worthy shots. More than that, I even thought of turning everything into a mini family trip. If we\u2019re going to Bulgaria anyway, why not all go together and also pass through the Rose Valley? Let it be good for everyone: me with the vultures, the family with the roses, and the wallet\u2026 well, let it see what it can handle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7664-2048x1365.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\nDivine intervention<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Full stop. And restart.<\/h2>\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5434-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know how to say this without sounding dramatic, but our accommodation seems like the kind of place where sleep is guaranteed. Waking up, on the other hand, defies probability.\u201d
The answer comes relaxed: \u201cWe go and see. We roll the dice on life and maybe it works out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nFinally, departure<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
My friend, being a motorcyclist, has crossed Bulgaria in every direction, so we also get a built-in tour guide. We pass by Veliko Tarnovo. We quickly add it to the \u201cnext time\u201d list, like all beautiful places we pass too quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5459-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5451-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5452-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5458-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5449-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5445-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
Then we decided to go to the shop near the hotel to get something for the next day. We still had two other shopping options, but the other stores seemed either too far for that hour or suspiciously empty.
We arrive at the nearby shop, walk in and immediately: \u201cOh, my brother!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
First thought: that\u2019s it, we\u2019re losing money here!
And I wasn\u2019t far from the truth. My new Bulgarian \u201cbrother\u201d warmly recommended all kinds of canned food, snacks and things \u201cvery good for the hide\u201d. We bought them, of course \u2014 not because we needed everything\u2026 but because it was impossible to refuse a brother rediscovered after so many years.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe real experience<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5467-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC5633-scaled.jpg\")
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<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The griffons retreat, circle in the air, then return. The jackal circles around. It tries to reach the piece of meat in the tree, near the eagle. The sheep (what\u2019s left of it) is further away, near the vultures, but the temptation is strong. For a few minutes, it seems like he\u2019s running the game. Then he realizes where he walked into: one jackal, alone, among 7\u20138 griffons, two black vultures and an eagle\u2026 not the ideal combination. He leaves\u2026 Probably to bring some friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7473-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n\n
When they\u2019re not eating, they sit on the mountain ridge, analyze, wait or stretch their wings, drying them, like after a serious day of work.
In all this organized chaos, the opportunists appear as well: crows and ravens. They come in, steal, leave \u2014 fast, efficient and without shame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We remain in the hide. We look at each other. And we both understand the same thing: this is where the hard part begins \u2014 waiting. Because the rule is simple: if you want animals to come, they must not feel that you were there. No smell. No noise. No movement. Nothing! Especially if you\u2019re hoping for something rarer\u2026 maybe even wolves. So we do what we can: we play cards, we sleep a bit (on some improvised beds, but surprisingly okay), we sort through photos. At one point, the fox from earlier decides to pass by once more, maybe there\u2019s something left for it. It doesn\u2019t really find anything and leaves just as it came.<\/p>\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7230-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7240-scaled.jpg\")
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<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7563-scaled.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\nA small bump<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
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<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/negoita-alexandru.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/DSC7697-2048x1365.jpg\")
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<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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