In one there is an old Trabant propped up on bricks, apparently in the middle of a probably never-to-be-completed overhaul. Driving on into the town centre, we pass metalwork factories – Gabrovo’s  industrial profile seems to have been a little like a small-scale Manchester.

We park the car near the pedestrian zone. High up, tucked into what seems to be a dormer window there is a television complete with curved screen and decorative wooden case.

It faces outwards, as if someone had been trying to emulate those huge public screens at sports events and concerts before the technology was available. In any case the set is turned off, and the screen, functioning as a Claude mirror, reflects the surrounding town square. There are many metal sculptures here, not only of national and local notables. Next to the Museum of Humour are Charlie Chaplin, Don Quixote and Nasreddin, a comic but philosophical figure common to many Moslem cultures: one day he is standing on a river bank when a stranger appears on the other side. How do you get across? shouts the stranger. You are across, says Nasreddin.