Mindya business 

Photographer Tim Clinch could always be found nosing through some European flea market or other. These days, though, he mainly slakes his purchasing passion in the Bulgarian village of Mindya, where he’s been living for the past two decades. After years traipsing round the vibrant local bazaars, he’s sealed the deal on countless traditional treasures – from homespun blankets to ceiling-height stoves – as his home now attests
Tim Clinchs Bulgarian home
The kitchen ceiling in Tim Clinch’s Bulgarian home was repaired and repainted to echo the green ones throughout the house – one component in a colour scheme inspired by the country’s flag. The icon cabinet in the top corner is ubiquitous across Mindya

‘It’s all old junk from the market, picked up around and about.’ Tim Clinch, a professional photographer who has lived in Bulgaria, on and off, for nearly 20 years now, has certainly done more than collect ‘old junk’. Located in Mindya, a pretty village that sprawls out among the foothills of the Balkans, his house is roughly three hours from Sofia. It’s a beautiful spot, the landscape thick with trees and flowers, but the village itself has been somewhat neglected in the past few decades. One sees the occasional building abandoned and reclaimed by nature, with branches poking out through windows and roofs. But this is by no means the full story: for every house that lies empty, there are many more that show a great deal of care and attention – not least, Tim’s.

‘Property prices here were extremely reasonable,’ he tells me. ‘I got divorced in Gascony and lost everything, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A good friend suggested looking in Bulgaria. It was the first house I saw, although I looked at 30 or more. The view was perfect and the house was very affordable. Although I was fairly unconvinced at first, I soon fell in love with both the house and the country.’

A green mirror – a treasure found already in situ – hangs on a wall in the spare room, which is lined with an archetypal Balkan fabric

Tim has tried to retain as much of the original building as possible, with the exterior almost exactly as he found it. The interior is mainly red, white and green – after the national flag – and he’s refrained from modernising things too much for fear of losing the house’s ambience.

It’s a gesture appreciated by the previous owners, who still feel a strong attachment to the place. ‘They come round every year to put up a necrologue,’ Tim says. ‘It’s a strange and rather charming tradition. On the anniversary of a death, they hang a picture and a small biography on the house. It sounds macabre, but it isn’t really.’ 

The balcony boasts views across Mindya. When Tim first moved here, he ferried across his classic French fare, which didn’t fit in with the place’s warmly traditional feel. Among the Bulgarian pieces he bought to replace them are the house’s wicker furniture, like this rocking chair and breakfast table, and works by local makers – the sculpture on the balcony, for instance, was made by an art student in Gorna Oryahovitsa. ‘I got that for a euro!’

By and large, though, the vistas from his home are full of life: the best encompasses the village, the church and the tree-covered Balkans rising behind them. Despite various setbacks – precipitated by the downfall of communism and a rush towards urbanisation – rural Bulgaria is recovering its confidence, Tim feels, and Mindya in particular. While it’s doubtless a quieter pace of life, there are still things to see and do (including an annual rock concert). For his part, Tim likes to walk his rescue dogs, Bob and Bunny, around the neighbourhood and hit the wonderfully diverse local markets. There’s a weekly one in Gorna Oryahovitsa that’s a favourite: it was there that he was surprised by the sculpture that now sits on his balcony.

Tim’s bedroom wall is hung with a couple of portraits by a local artist. Ironically, the typically Ukrainian slippers under the chair are one of the few English things in the house, once belonging to Tim’s father

Having left most of his possessions behind, it makes sense that Tim’s spent a lot of time in flea markets recently – but they’re places he’s been drawn to all his life. ‘I have a great friend in Kyiv, and we were always hunting for things, scouring the markets, looking for anything that caught our eye,’ he tells me. Many of the place’s fabrics and finer details – a wicker cow’s head, for instance, which sits in Tim’s office – were bought in the Ukrainian capital, in happier times, over many visits in the past 20 years. ‘We would find things in our respective countries and swap them, like a cultural exchange.’ He gestures to the red-and-white fabric on a chest in the bedroom as a stand-out example: ‘It’s typically Ukrainian: I call it a “pop-on” because you can pop it on anything and it works. It goes with the green wine jar on top, which we found locally.’

Sitting quietly in a corner of Tim’s office, painted an unassuming white, is a traditional tall stove called a ‘jamal’: these sentries can be found in every room. The wicker cow’s head on the wooden bench, meanwhile, was made by an artist in Kyiv

The result is a motley mixture of objects collected over the years, enhanced by archetypal pieces nabbed from nearby. A striking instance of the latter sits in the end bedroom: a jamal, or stove, which resembles a wardrobe and reaches up to the ceiling. When he moved in, Tim also inherited an old Bulgarian blouse and apron, which now hang on the back of a bedroom door: their contrasting shades of green – light jade next to a lime cabinet – remain just as he found them. Here and there among the locally sourced items gleam objects riffing off them, too, designed by Tim himself (with a little locally sourced help).

His home is made up of three separate buildings: as you enter, on the right is the kitchen and bathroom; on the left is Tim’s bedroom and office, conjoined to the kitchen across a narrow central passage, which leads to a small simple garden, festooned with walnuts in the autumn. A stone terrace runs along the kitchen wall: this is the place to drink in those views of the church and mountains. In the corner is a log shed and, beside it, an old barn, now converted into a guest room and library.

Tim uses the restored barn for photography workshops and holiday rentals. Winter visitors shelter in the warmth of its box beds, piled with blankets from the Rhodope mountains. The painted chest stores further coverings, as well as Tim’s festival costumes, like the embroidered get-up reserved for Alphabet Day, celebrating the creation in Bulgaria of the Cyrillic script. To the wood burner’s right sit a trio of milking stools, while to its left, an icon case lies empty – Tim’s still in the market for a suitable artwork

‘With the barn especially, I wanted something really cosy, with traditional Eastern European beds,’ Tim says. These were built by a local carpenter, and the cosiness achieved through insulation for warm winters and cool summers. (The wood burner is an invaluable ally; unsur- prisingly, it was fetched from nearby – and ‘no more than 30 euros!’) Positioned side by side, flush against a far wall, each bed is ensconced in its own deep recess, allowing for relative privacy. They’re piled up high with blankets – many homemade, all brightly coloured with intricate designs. ‘Winters are very cold here.’

Along with these softer pieces, Tim’s collected a fair few paintings and somewhat larger objects of interest. ‘The paintings in the single bedroom are mainly of the nearby town, Veliko Tarnovo,’ he says. ‘The old dairy cart, used to deliver milk and cheese in the village, came to me from a neighbour. The plates above the cooker I’ve collected from all over the region: each village has its own distinct style.’ The old white table in the kitchen was reclaimed from a derelict house, along with the side-board, which was a hybrid of two different pieces of furniture. This sums up Tim’s tal- ent: bringing together a range of ideas and making them work – whether it’s eccentric with traditional, or contemporary with quintessential. Instead of creating friction, they harmonise. ‘The previous owners love what I’ve done here,’ says Tim Clinch warmly. ‘It always brings a tear to their eyes’.


A version of this article appears in the August 2023 issue of The World of Interiors. Learn about our subscription offers