Rumbling and banging awoke me around half past seven this morning. It was a garbage truck next to a neighboring house, which is rented out to tourists. It took me a while to fall asleep again, but I was successful in the end. Once again, I was livid about the timing of the garbage truck’s visit. Motovun is a tourist town. People come here to rest. Why in the world is the garbage collection schedule not adjusted to their needs? Istria will never cease to amaze me. The whole peninsula lives off tourism and nothing but tourism. How is it possible that no-one in these parts can figure out the connection between tourism and garbage collection? If the truck would come to the hilltown sometime between ten and eleven, say, everything would be hunky-dory. But why is this small adjustment in timing not obvious to so many authorities concerned with the only branch of the economy left in Istria? Well, why is it not obvious to garbage collectors themselves? Enough of silly questions, though. Istria is a mystery, and so is Croatia entire. The most obvious things are beyond these wretched people. The only solution to garbage collection are earplugs. If tourist only knew it ahead of time.