This morning among mornings I was awoken by the garbage collectors. The banging of garbage bins down the street was as loud as ever. When I checked the time on my alarm clock, it was only a few minutes past seven o’clock. And Istria is a tourist region! In fact, it has nothing but tourism to survive on since so-called independence. The leading politicians on the peninsula keep blabbering about all sorts of things they are doing to prop tourism up, but they never spend a second thinking about the infrastructure that underpins it all. Including garbage collection, of course. Why in the world is the garbage truck sent to Motovun, a tourist town par excellence, at seven in the morning? What could be wrong with, say, nine or even ten o’clock? How come no-one responsible for such decisions understands that tourists are coming to these boondocks for a little rest from the hubbub in their busy lives? Stupidity reigns on the peninsula, no doubt whatsoever. Even I could not sleep any more after I got awoken by garbage collectors. Anger got hold of me in a jiffy. After twelve years in this miserable place, I still cannot get used to the collective stupidity of Istrian people, their jabbering politicians included. Infrastructure, idiots! Infrastructure!