A couple of weeks ago, Marko Fakin had many people pick grapes in his vineyards around Bataji. This has become a tourist attraction in these parts. There was a young Japanese couple among them, and Marko told me that he was quite impressed with them. “They were not like all the others,” he smiled. “They would never stop picking even for a minute!” We were at his restaurant and café on the lower square at the time, and so I picked up a pad used by the waiters to write orders. I wrote down my favorite haiku by Matsuo Basho: “Yoku mireba nazuna hana saku kakine kana.” I read it to him, and told him to learn it by heart, so as to regale his Japanese guests when an opportunity arises. “They’ll be delighted no end,” I concluded. Ever since, he starts reciting the haiku every time he sees me. Once he is finished, he always adds the poet’s name. Which is what he did when he came to the lower square while I was having my morning coffee today. Marko finished his recitation proudly: “Basho!” And we burst into laughter once again.