The tiny village of Bulgari experienced its annual upheaval last week when hundreds of people swarmed into the main square, blocking streets and pavements, and filling adjacent fields with their cars. They were attracted by the legendary Nestinari dancers' one-day ritual in honour of Saints Constantine and Elena, which culminates in a late night fire dancing performance to cleanse the Nestinari of evil and bring fertility and health to the village.

For early arrivals, the day began around eight in the morning when all present were invited to attend the 'blessing' of the sacrificial lambs. The audience, consisting mostly of journalists, gathered expecting a saintly ritual, but were treated to the sight of the three unfortunate victims being beheaded by a long sword, causing copious amounts of blood to spurt nauseatingly from their headless bodies. There was then a well-deserved break of several hours before the folk troupes began arriving from around the region and a powerful sound system was cranked up to broadcast their performances to the entire village and probably most of the surrounding area.

Traditionally dressed grandmothers were first up to sing traditional songs backed by a Roma band; they were followed by similarly dressed children who danced a series of traditional routines. Audience interest was muted to say the least as the sultry afternoon kept onlookers in the shade, drinking beer and consuming lamb kyufte (meat balls).

What caused a real stir among festival goers awaiting the promised evening spectacle was the announcement of the Roma belly dancers' appearance on stage. There was a virtual stampede as drinkers downed their beers in a gulp to wash down hastily swallowed kyuftes and run for the stage. A lively Turkish drum track introduced the girls, who were no more than 12 years old and dressed in silk bikinis and skimpy skirts. As they wiggled their hips in a provocative fashion and focused their dark eyes on spectators, the initial euphoria drained away a little as onlookers began to question the morality of what they were watching. Still, most stayed to the end of the performance and the child belly dancers were applauded with whistles and shouts.

Meanwhile, the two Nestinari women were preparing themselves in Bulgari's oldest church, a rickety affair stuffed with old icons blackened by candle smoke. Traditionally they fast for 24 hours while praying to Saints Constantine and Elena in order to reach a trance-like state. One Nestinari woman explained to journalists, who were the only attendees expressing much interest, that before they danced on the fire their feet and hands would become almost ice cold through meditation. Nestinari are by necessity extremely religious, and believe that the saints are pouring cold water on their feet while they dance. Various other rituals are involved such as bringing gifts to the eldest Nestinari dancer, who decides which dancer will light the fire. They must also light candles to the saints and receive directions from the eldest Nestinari on purging the village's sacred well.

The only male Nestinari lit the pile of beech and oak logs at around 5pm and the fire was left to burn down during the musical performances. As darkness descended, the increasingly restless audience, now numbering over a thousand, took up their positions around the cordoned-off red-hot coals, spread in a circle on the village square. There was more patient waiting and scuffles between photographers and film crews for best angle, before the Roma band began to play and the Nestinari marched into the square accompanied by icons of Saints Constantine and Elena. After circling Bulgari's other church several times, they approached the smouldering embers. Onlookers were tense with anticipation, but, obviously not willing to please so easily, there was more dancing around the edge of the coals and occasional mock approaches, before, finally, the male dancer walked calmly through the embers, eliciting cries of approval and a round of applause. The two elderly female Nestinari took turns to walk across, kicking sparks and coals as they ground their feet into the embers. Several more crossings followed before the dancers collected the icons and shuffled into the centre of the coals, kissing and bowing to the icons as sparks flew, photographers' flashes illuminated the scene, and the audience watched, momentarily more entranced than the dancers. The three Nestinari joined hands for their finale - walking together across the coals before retreating to the church leaving the audience wondering whether it had all been worth their while.

It's hard to say whether their yearly ordeal has been effective in terms of fertility and health - though Bulgari has a high proportion of sprightly pensioners, the village's population is shrinking rapidly. The commercial benefits of the Nestinari are obvious, but one resident warned that the ceremony was in danger of losing its significance by becoming a moneymaking exercise. The eventual much hyped meeting of feet with fire was a disappointment for more than a few of the audience that perhaps had expectations of a more spectacular display of element-defying antics, fuelled by elderly residents who had earlier told stories to tourists about days gone by when the Nestinari would dance up to their knees in flames.

The eager photographers that chased the dancers from just outside the circle of smoking coals, vying for the best close-up scorched foot shots, did nothing to help the authentic atmosphere of this ancient ceremony. Neither did the many market traders who set up their glitzy trinket stalls within sight of the fire, selling plastic inflatable animals, flashing earrings, toy Kalash-nikovs, and a medley of other useless items for the busloads of tourists and their children.

The final part of the evening's entertainment was provided by some of the audience's neo-hippy contingent, as well as drunken locals, who chose to dance on the coals as they cooled. Last year, an ambulance was called for three such dancers, but this year, despite the near fainting of one female fire dancer, and the collision of a drunken metal fan with a neo-hippy in the middle of the coals, no ambulance was called and spectators drifted home calmly, or hung around listening to the tunes of the indefatigable Roma band.