Church bells sound late in the morning. Something is going on. I walk up Borgo. Almost everyone at the long square facing the river is dressed up. The faces are dour. I do not recognize anyone. The people are walking toward the church. Men wear dark suits with white flowers on their lapels. In the distance, I can hear a tuba. Funeral? The tuba’s pace is a bit too fast for a funeral, though. More and more people are walking up, and then a large group appears. Two people in front are carrying a wreath of white flowers. It must be a funeral! Then I spot the bride in a long white dress. A wedding? The groom is by her side in a dark suit with a white flower on his lapel. He seems to be pleased with himself. Several women behind the happy couple are wearing garish dresses, but all the men are dressed in dark suits. Some way behind the main group there is the tuba. There is an accordion, too. It is a wedding, all right. One of the locals watching the procession tells me the bride and the groom are from San Bartolo in the foothills of Motovun.