God only knows why, but pensioners of all lands overran Motovun this afternoon. It is not even weekend, but they all decided to visit the town at the very same time. There are busloads of them everywhere one turns. I happened to be at the hotel terrace when the invasion began. Every table was grabbed in a few minutes. The waiters panicked. I could not even pay my bill in time, and so I had to watch the spectacle for a while. The caricatures got to me all at once. Three tables down, there sat an old woman who could be best described as a cross between a frog and a wolf. Two tables down and two across, there was an old man who looked like a cross between a giraffe and a duck. And one table down and three across, there sat an old woman very like a cross between a penguin and a buffalo. Enough, though. In the end, I could not wait for the waiter any longer. I sprung to my feet and chased him all the way to the kitchen. And then I fled home as fast as my legs could carry me. As I write, caricatures rule the town.