It's humbling to stand in a tomb dating from the late fourth century BCE. Millennia ago, a painter drew the delicate hand of a woman holding her chin. Perhaps the artist used a friend as a model for his drawing of a soldier carrying a spear. The plate of fruit a servant hands to the seated nobleman is like a plate of fruit one might find on one's own table.

Kazanluk is now officially one of my favourite cities in Bulgaria. The city itself is not the draw — though compared to other towns of its size, it compares favorably. The attraction of the Kazanluk area is the Valley of the Thracian Kings, a kind of enormous archeological site that some hope will radically change the interpretation of Classical history.

I was lucky enough to have a connection with the Kazanluk Iskra History Museum, where one finds many of the treasures found in the scores of ancient graves dotting the region, which is also known for its roses and products made from roses, including the rose oil peddlers hawk on the city's streets and delightful rose rakiya. In early June, the town hosts a rose festival and the tourists flood in.

My connection got me into the museum, which is now undergoing renovations, and into the original Thracian tomb that stands on the northern edge of town in Tyulbeto Park. This visit was an exceptional treat. Most people cannot enter the real tomb and are instead directed to the copy nearby. The copy is exactly like the real version, but it's a duplicate: like a magazine image of the Mona Lisa, it lacks the aura of reality that resonates in great art.

To enter the original tomb, we had to pass through a locked gate, a locked door, a chamber where we had to don white coats that would keep contaminants out of the tomb, another room containing climate control equipment and, finally, a small two-metre tunnel of ancient, sculpted rock until we reached the domed grave itself. The roof of the tomb contains some of the best-illustrated Thracian paintings in existence. They depict a scene of servants, soldiers and other attendants around a nobleman and woman. They are superb.

For 40 leva, we hired a taxi driver (another friend of a friend) to drive us around the countryside. We saw the well-preserved grave of Seuthes III, where the famous golden Thracian mask were discovered by Georgi Kitov. The Svetitsa tomb contained a deep grave site that was awesome for the simplicity of its gaping crypt, and where the only lock on the tomb was a stone on the ground holding the door in place. The Ostruma tomb contained a decaying set of paintings, only one of which remains preserved: a red-haired woman whose visage is so striking, one feels as if one knows her, despite the centuries.

The Valley of the Thracian Kings conveys a peculiar feeling of mingled times. Some of the grave mounds (called mogilas) are topped by obelisks and Orthodox Christian crosses celebrating the aid Russia sent to Bulgaria during its war for independence. The nearby Shipka Pass contains a monument to Bulgaria's victory in that battle. A Russian church nearby peeks out from the pine trees, its golden onion-domed spires like a signal in the distance. Then the tombs. Earthen mounds here and there among rose or sunflower fields, with communist-era high-tension electrical wires stringing across the landscape, ugly and heedless of the history around them.

Many Bulgarian historians feel that Classical history is slanted towards Ancient Greece and Rome, civilisations Western scholars have identified as igniting the sparks of democracy, liberty and artistic and economic dynamism that have made Europe and America the leaders of the world. The problem with that Western equation, some Bulgarians say, is that it leaves out Thrace, a nation that stretched from Serbia to Ukraine when Greece was at its height.

Of the 60 000 tombs thought to be in Bulgaria, only 15 000 have even been identified by authorities, according to the National Museum of History in Sofia. Even Western scholars acknowledge that Thrace is a black hole in Classical history, a field that has not been studied enough for anyone to make a definite judgment of its impact on Greece and Rome. So the Bulgarians might have a point. Or they might be making claims based on scanty evidence.

In Kazanluk, we stayed in a friend's apartment. But visitors who arrive downtown can try the Hotel Kazanluk, whose website ( http://www.hotelkazanlak.com/) lists a single room, with access to a swimming pool, at $42. Pricey, but easy to find. Streets radiating from the main square contain many restaurants. We found one off the beaten path, called Stoyanova, on Hristo Botev Street, a 15-minute walk from Hotel Kazanluk. A traditional folk restaurant, its fare was excellent and service was professional. For 20 leva, we enjoyed a fine meal of salad, grilled meats and drinks.