Marko Fakin showed me this morning a publication about Croatia published by the Croatian Airlines. “Thousands of copies have been distributed to its passengers,” he told me. A lengthy article with many wonderful photographs is dedicated to Motovun. Quite a number of them show vineyards surrounding the hilltown. Marko and Klaudio Tomaz appear on one page as prominent winemakers. Milica Pahović appears on another next to the restaurant she owns with her husband, Benjamin. Going through one page after another, I got ever more excited. “Great stuff,” I grinned at Marko and retuned the publication to him. “Motovun is certainly one of the top ten destinations in the country.” As we were talking by the door of Marko’s restaurant, Benjamin, Milica, and Martina, their daughter, walked past us on their way to the church. Marko showed them the publication, and there was much laughter. “All the best,” I waved after them as they approached the gate leading to the upper square. On my way home down Borgo, I was flying. I felt so happy that I started worrying a bit. Falling in love with Motovun for the second time is fraught with painful memories. Will I be wise enough not to let history repeat itself? And then I remembered good old Marx: “first as tragedy, then as farce.” By the time I reached my front door, I was grinning again.