In her early twenties, Ronia Zschoche comes to Motovun only during the summer months, when she is off her studies. She lives in Germany, as do her divorced but friendly parents. Her father shares a house in Motovun with his sister, who lives here all year round since several years ago. Ronia’s Croatian and English are on the rudimentary side, but they are getting better from year to year. As we were sitting at Miško’s together with a bunch of other friends, most of whom actually live in town, she turned toward me and started speaking in carefully measured English. “In this place,” she pointed toward the ground of the pizzeria’s terrace, “you can be considered what people here like to call ‘inventory’!” And then she raised her eyebrows to indicate that she had meant to ask a question rather than to make a statement. There was much merriment around the table.