Most images of Istria are stripped of people. In much of the promotional literature, they are nowhere to be found. This is a clever ploy, it goes without saying. The locals only spoil the scenery, except if they are outfitted with traditional clothing that can be found only in musty museums set up generations ago. The tourists make the scenery somewhat more appealing, but only if they are young, handsome, and almost naked. The real Istria is rather different, of course. To begin with, it is crawling with tourists. Like locusts, they are everywhere. As a matter of fact, they are the scenery no matter where one ventures around the peninsula. Then, most tourists are old, ugly, and—alas!—almost naked. So, images of Istria, and especially those in the promotional literature, are crying for a clever intervention. An artist’s magic touch, that is. The real tourists must play the prominent part in the new images. They must be the stars. Clowns that most of them undoubtedly are, they can offer many a hearty laugh, too. And Istria as it has come to pass.