Hiking Bulgaria's Rila Mountains: From Monastery Base to Seven Lakes Summit

When I first started researching this trip, I quickly realized that despite being one of Bulgaria's natural treasures, the Rila Mountains remain refreshingly under-touristed compared to Western European destinations. This translates to authentic experiences and significant cost savings - music to my ears as someone who prefers to stretch my travel budget without sacrificing experiences.

I based myself in Sapareva Banya, a small town with thermal springs at the northern foot of the mountains. From here, accessing both the famous Rila Monastery and the Seven Lakes trailhead was straightforward. Accommodation options range from basic guesthouses at €20/night to mid-range hotels with thermal baths for around €40-50. I opted for a family-run guesthouse where the owners treated me to homemade banitsa (cheese pastry) each morning - the kind of authentic connection that makes budget travel so rewarding.

For navigating the region, I highly recommend downloading maps offline using the AllTrails Pro which proved invaluable when cell service disappeared in the higher elevations. The detailed topographic maps and GPS tracking kept me confidently on trail even when paths became less distinct above the tree line.

One planning element I initially overlooked was transportation between hiking points. While there are seasonal shuttle buses, their schedules can be limited. After a recommendation from my guesthouse owner, I connected with a local driver who charged reasonable rates for drop-offs and pickups - far more economical than renting a car that would sit unused during multi-day hikes.

My journey began at the UNESCO-listed Rila Monastery, a 10th-century Eastern Orthodox sanctuary nestled in a forested valley. Rather than treating it as a quick photo stop like many day-trippers from Sofia, I dedicated two full days to exploring both the monastery and the surrounding hiking trails.

The monastery itself is a marvel of Bulgarian Renaissance architecture - its bold striped arches and vibrant frescoes creating a striking contrast against the pine-covered mountains. Arriving early in the morning allowed me to experience the monastery before the tour buses arrived, when the only sounds were monks' footsteps echoing across the cobblestone courtyard and the distant murmur of mountain streams.

What many visitors miss are the exceptional hiking trails radiating from the monastery. The trail to Kirilova Polyana meadow (about 5km one-way) offers a gentle introduction to the region's terrain while providing spectacular vantage points back toward the monastery. For a more challenging day, I tackled the path to Malyovitsa peak, where the alpine landscape transforms dramatically as you climb.

Staying overnight in the monastery's simple pilgrim accommodations (around €15) provided a uniquely immersive experience. After the day visitors departed, a profound silence descended on the complex. I spent the evening on a stone bench in the courtyard, photographing the changing light on the monastery walls while sharing homemade rakija (fruit brandy) with a Bulgarian grandfather who spoke little English but communicated volumes through gestures and shared appreciation of the mountains.

For capturing the monastery's architectural details and the dramatic mountain backdrop, my wide-angle lens earned its weight in my pack many times over. The lens's ability to capture both the soaring monastery walls and the encompassing mountain landscape in a single frame helped me create some of my favorite images from the entire trip.

After bidding farewell to the monastery's spiritual tranquility, I embarked on what would become the most physically demanding segment of my journey - the trek to Malyovitsa region. This area represents the more rugged, wild side of Rila, where jagged peaks create a dramatic skyline that's irresistible to photographers and seasoned hikers alike.

The trail from Kiril Meadow to Malyovitsa Hut climbs steadily through diverse terrain - starting in dense coniferous forest before opening into alpine meadows dotted with wildflowers and finally ascending into a rocky landscape that feels almost lunar in its stark beauty. This 14km route with over 1000m elevation gain tested my endurance, especially when an afternoon thunderstorm rolled in unexpectedly, turning the trail into a slippery challenge.

During that sudden downpour, I was incredibly grateful for my waterproof shell which kept me dry while allowing enough breathability to prevent overheating on the climb. When hiking in mountain environments like Rila, weather protection isn't a luxury - it's essential safety equipment.

Malyovitsa Hut itself is a classic Balkan mountain refuge - utilitarian but welcoming, with communal dining tables where hikers share stories over hearty lentil soup and local beer. At roughly €20 for a bunk bed and meals, it represents incredible value while providing a crucial shelter in this remote area. The hut's caretaker, a weathered mountaineer named Dimitar, spoke enough English to share tales of winter rescues and point out the best photography locations for capturing the iconic Malyovitsa peak.

What struck me most about this section was how the landscape seemed to change personality with the light. During a brief break in the storm, I captured the granite peaks bathed in what photographers call 'god rays' - streams of sunlight breaking through clouds that transformed the forbidding mountains into something almost ethereal. These moments remind me why I carry my camera gear despite the extra weight - some experiences deserve more than just memory.

The culmination of any Rila Mountains adventure has to be the legendary Seven Lakes - a series of glacial pools cascading down the mountainside, each with its own distinctive shape and color. This natural wonder draws hikers from across Europe, yet somehow maintains its sense of pristine wilderness.

Rather than taking the popular chairlift approach (which deposits day-trippers directly at the lower lakes), I opted for the more challenging but rewarding multi-day circuit from Vada Hut. This route allowed me to experience the lakes at sunrise and sunset when the crowds had departed and the light transformed the landscape into something truly magical.

The full circuit covers approximately 25km with significant elevation changes as you climb between lakes. The trail is well-marked but technically demanding in sections, with loose scree and exposed ridgelines requiring careful footing. My trekking poles proved invaluable on both steep ascents and knee-punishing descents, providing stability on uncertain terrain and reducing impact on my joints after long days of hiking.

What makes this circuit so special is how each lake reveals itself as you climb - from the kidney-shaped Lower Lake to the perfectly oval Eye Lake and finally to the Tear, the highest lake nestled just below the ridgeline. The changing perspective creates a natural narrative that photographers dream about, with each view offering new compositional possibilities.

I spent a memorable night wild camping near the Fish Lake (note: officially only permitted in designated areas), falling asleep to the gentle lapping of water against shore and waking to alpenglow turning the surrounding peaks pink. As someone who spends most workdays in others' homes as a caregiver, these moments of solitude in vast landscapes provide a necessary recalibration of perspective.

The final day's hike along the ridgeline above all seven lakes offers what must be one of Bulgaria's most spectacular panoramas - a 360-degree view encompassing the entire lake system below and the higher Musala peak (Bulgaria's highest) in the distance. Standing there, buffeted by wind with my camera in hand, I felt that rare perfect alignment of place and purpose that makes all the blisters and muscle aches worthwhile.

Between the physical challenges and photographic pursuits, some of my richest memories from the Rila trek came from unexpected cultural encounters along the way. The mountain huts (or 'hizhas' as they're locally known) serve as more than just shelters - they're gathering places where hikers share meals, stories, and sometimes improvised music late into the evening.

At Ivan Vazov Hut, I found myself part of an impromptu cultural exchange when a group of Bulgarian hikers discovered I was Canadian. Soon we were trading hiking tales over homemade rakija, comparing the Rockies to the Rila range, and attempting to teach each other folk songs. Language barriers dissolved as they patiently explained the significance of local traditions, including the annual August pilgrimage when thousands climb to the lakes for a spiritual celebration.

The mountain cuisine deserves special mention - hearty, simple food designed to fuel hikers. Bob chorba (bean soup) became my daily staple, along with banitsa (cheese pastry) and shopska salata (cucumber, tomato and cheese salad). These dishes might lack sophistication, but after a day of climbing, they taste like gourmet meals.

While my primary focus was photography, I found my caregiver's perspective emerging in unexpected ways. I was struck by how the mountains seemed to provide a kind of collective therapy for locals who spoke of 'mountain medicine' - the belief that time in these peaks heals both body and spirit. As someone who witnesses daily the importance of holistic wellbeing, I could see the wisdom in this traditional approach.

One evening at Skakavitsa Hut, I shared my instant camera with the hut keeper's children, teaching them to frame and capture simple portraits. Their delight at watching physical photographs develop mirrored my own childhood wonder with photography, creating a connection that transcended our different backgrounds. I left several prints behind - small tokens of gratitude for the hospitality I'd received that somehow felt more meaningful than any standard tip.