It was raining most of the night, and it continued in the morning. When I woke up, there were ominous clouds in the sky. It was only a question of when the next downpour would start, but it was clear that it would last all day long. “Gosh,” I mumbled to myself, “it will be teeming with tourists today.” By the time I went out for my morning coffee, there were many of them already. But the sky started clearing well before noon. And then the sun came out in all its glory. To everyone’s surprise, only a few clouds remained in the sky. The tourists kept coming, though. Disrupted from their beach plans, they all flocked to so many places every guide of Istria has on offer, and Motovun is definitely among them. Confused, they tried to figure out what to do next as soon as they finished with their breakfasts. It is mid-afternoon already, but the hilltown is still bathing in sunshine. And it is still packed with tourists bereft of palpable plans. There is hardly a table to be had, as a matter of fact. “Damn,” I mumble to myself every so often, “if only it were raining.” What with the season and climate change, the tourists are as clever about the weather as the locals. But all the forecasts warn of heavy rain both for the whole day today and tomorrow. Heavy rain, my ass.