The Suitcase Taverna sits on the edge of central Sofia and the surrounding suburban area. The taverna’s neighbourhood is a little run down and it resembles an old broken comb, with a few missing buildings here and there. The Suitcase operates out of the ground level of an old house, and has a little garden containing a few mismatched tables, wooden trunks, plastic chairs and creaky umbrellas. Inside, the basement bar is a warren of tiny, brick and plaster-covered rooms painted a variety of pastel shades gone dark from the smoking fireplace and clientele. I fell in love with it immediately.

We went with some Bulgarian acquaintances. The Suitcase was their old hangout; it was one of the first tavernas that appeared after the end of the communist period. In its day, it was a very busy place. Now, Sofia is filled with bars and restaurants of all descriptions, and the night we went, The Suitcase had only a few customers.

We sat and drank our beer and looked across at the empty building lot next door.

Our new friends were excellent companions, educated and engaged with the world. We talked about many things, about old friendships, the changes after the end of communism, the economic situation in Bulgaria, cultural and social attitudes in different countries and how age changes your perspective on events. They mentioned they never see anyone from the old days; most of their contemporaries have gone abroad.

The house next door to the bar was knocked down last year; the lot is being prepared for condo development. Our new friends worry that The Suitcase will be the next to go. As we sat together talking, I thought about all the changes that occur in our lives, and in the world around us, and about how there is a time for every season.