A bit more than a month ago I slipped and fell in Motovun. As luck would have it, I came out unscathed, but it reminded me that I slipped and fell in the Alps a bit more than a decade ago. That time I nearly went to meet my maker. After some reflection, I remembered that I also fell in Motovun several years back, when I broke a rib. Each time I slipped on the left foot, though. I am almost ambidextrous, but not quite. My left side is a bit weaker. A bit less dexterous. And a lot more dangerous. Which is why the Latin terms for the left and right limbs keep pulsating in my mind for the last month or so: sinistra versus dextra. And sinister the left side undoubtedly is, especially when one’s life depends on it, like in hand-to-hand combat. Thus I am growing ever less confident in my left foot. Whatever I do, wherever I go, I pay much more attention to it than to the right foot. And the Latin terms are always with me.