Early this afternoon, I took a walk around Motovun. Or giro di Montona, as I like to call it. I went down Borgo, up the main access road to the cemetery, up Gradiziol, across the lower square, and down Borgo again. On my way, I saw three kids, one teenager, four adults, two tourists, and three cars with local people, all of whom offered me a ride. And that was all. The hilltown is nigh deserted this time of year. There are a few busloads of tourists on weekends, but there are nearly none of them during the week. Many shops, cafés, and restaurants are thus closed until Easter, when tourists will return in numbers. Although there were no surprises on my walk, I still felt kind of funny by the time I reached my front door. The ghost town is hard to swallow. Everything is fine at first sight, but people are sorely missing. And missing in perpetuity, it appears.