The peak of the tourist season is over. People with kids are back home already, for the kids are returning to their schools. Now that the prices of accommodation have dropped across Istria, there are many more pensioners and school excursions milling about. In just a few days, Motovun is a different place. Mostly in their teens, the schoolchildren are rather annoying. Lost in space and time, they are dashing hither and thither in search of who knows what. Chances are they will never find it, anyhow. But the pensioners really got to me today. I went out for a cup of tea, but I returned home in a jiffy. Most of the pensioners are ugly beyond belief. Coming mostly from northwestern Europe, they are obese more often than not. Used to their cars, few of them can walk properly, and especially on cobblestone streets and squares of a medieval town. Having averted my gaze a few times too many, I left my tea unfinished and headed home. My pace surprised even me, for I was almost running. It appears that my disgust with the human species is reaching new heights. And obese women in their seventies and eighties take the crown. The last tourist adventure in their lives, I assume. Happily, tourists in their nineties eschew hilltowns such as Motovun.