“There is this family that hails from Dubrovnik,” I overheard a young man at a neighboring table in Kolding Caffe. “They smuggle everything under the sun,” he continued. “They have even smuggled apples from Venezuela!” Everyone at his table laughed. My thoughts turned to Venice, though. “Once upon a time,” I caught myself ruminating, “that was called trade.” Perhaps the only exception was the smuggling of Saint Mark’s relics from Alexandria, in which a merchant possibly from my own family was involved. Venice and its competitors, such as Genoa and Pisa, provided the links between the east and west. Given that there was no legal underpinning for the trade, all of it would be called smuggling nowadays. “Ragusa or Dubrovnik was a relative newcomer in this game,” I concluded my unexpected thoughts, “but it caught up swiftly halfway between Venice and Istanbul.” By the time I turned to the youngsters at the neighboring table, they were talking about university exams. A subject intimately related to smuggling, I would guess. And especially in Croatia.