She goes on to tell us that back then she was a gymnast and actually wanted to go on to become a teacher but her husband didn’t want her to study. She used to live in the centre of town but after the change she was ‘advised’ to give up her state-owned house and move to the outskirts of town. Now, she says, the old house has been bought and renovated… She harvests roses to pay the rent because her pension is no longer enough to live on.

The Roma family we meet all come from a village near Kazanlak called Maglizh which seems to be pronounced as a distinctly Scottish ‘Macliesh’. We will visit them tomorrow. In the meantime the rose harvest performance is intensifying in the presence of German, American, Japanese and Korean tourists. I could imagine that the latter two find echoes of their cherry blossom festivals here. Our attempt to actually join the musicians and rose scatterers in the field is thwarted by a determined policeman who explains that the white edge-of-the-road markings are a temporary border separating those who only have a hotel ID and those who have paid for an additional photo permit. It seems that the festival here has become a potpourri event, with characters involved that resemble the Austrian ‘winter chasers’ — hairy costumes, cow bell belts around their waists weighing up to twenty kilos.

There are also interesting modern adaptations in the traditional accoutrements: blonde, white, industrially-produced dolls sit atop black wooden masks. This is the side where we tourists snap and video our future memories. The dancers dance, diplomatic cars arrive representing Germany and Norway. Then the Rose Queen and her ladies-in-waiting pull up in a four-wheel-drive chauffeur-driven Lada. They all group together under the awning of a market stall for a while, ‘presiding over events’. In contrast I get drawn into the strange antics of a cow-like beastie with a very hairy face which nudges me in a not unfriendly way before moving on to do the same to someone else. When I look again the queen has left. We stay till the end and on the way back to the hotel I stop to look at a tiny convertible.