If I cannot come up with much to praise Motovun, or Istria for that matter, how am I ever to sell my house? This question pops up in my mind every now and then. Goodness gracious, will I have to lie? Well, I can always hire a real estate agent. It is the agent’s job to lie, after all. But what if a potential buyer starts reading everything I have written about the hilltown on the World Wide Web? Here I am stumped, I must admit. Except that I can instruct the agent not to go for buyers who can read any English. There must be plenty of those, I assume. The proverbial rich Russian would be an ideal buyer, of course. English, what English? The only problem is that everyone in Motovun is dreaming of such a miraculous buyer, who asks few questions once the choice is made. Although my house is among the best on offer, the competition is pretty fierce at the moment. And rich Russians are becoming a bit of a rarity in Istria. Actually, I have not met a single person who has ever come across one. Shucks, how am I ever to sell my house?