East of Malko Tarnovo, in the outermost reaches of Bulgaria, a bridge spans the Rezovska River. Once it had three high, beautifully crafted stone arches, but now only one remains – that on the Turkish bank. The thick Strandzha forest surrounding it is quiet, inhabited only by deer, wild boar and hornets. You can only find the dirt road leading to the bridge with a local guide, preferably driving a 4WD.

The story of how that bridge was built and demolished is a telling example of the difficulties you will encounter when trying to work out what part of Bulgaria's cultural heritage is Ottoman by concept, execution, influence or funding.

No written account for the early building history of the bridge exists but legends abound.

Until the 1800s that stretch of the Rezovska was uncrossable. The people of nearby Malko Tarnovo had to make a long detour to reach Kucuk, or Little, Samokov, now the modern Turkish town of Demirkoy. About that time a man decided to build a bridge over the river. Valchan Voyvoda was a Bulgarian haydutin, or brigand, who had won fame as a daring robber of Ottoman convoys carrying taxes to Stamboul.

Valchan Voyvoda hired a local Bulgarian master builder. Somebody – the myths are quiet about just who – secured the approval of the local Ottoman authorities. They were more than happy to see an important infrastructure project materialise without their having to spend a penny of the state's money.

Work started, and no one knew that one of the builders hewing stones on the site was Valchan Voyvoda himself.

The bridge was completed, a marvellous structure 15 metres long, six metres high and two metres wide, enough for both people and carts to cross. The locals gathered to celebrate the dedication of the bridge, Bulgarians and Ottomans together. When the ceremony was over and all the food and drink had disappeared, one of the builders stood on the river bank. He let out a shout and then jumped over the river. "Maşallah, maşallah!," the Ottomans cried in delight at this demonstration of skill and bravery. The man evaporated into the forest, and no one realised that this was "blood-thirsty" Valchan Voyvoda.

The bridge soon became a busy point on the road through the Strandzha, and elderly folk still remember how their grandfathers and great-grandfathers crossed it on horseback and even on camels.

The story of how the bridge was demolished is as bizarre and fascinating as the story of how it was built in the first place.