This morning I talked about tourists with a waiter and a cook working in the same Motovun restaurant. “Germans are the best,” said the waiter. “Most of them are perfectly normal.” “Britons are the strangest,” jumped in the cook. “They want tomato soup and toast even while vacationing a thousand kilometers away from home.” “How about Italians?” I asked. “Well,” said the waiter, “they are quite unpredictable.” “But they do know their food,” nodded the cook with conviction. “Russians?” I continued. “They strike me as very cold people,” said the waiter. “They usually leave a good tip, but they do not give any clue about their appreciation of the food.” “Americans?” I asked. “Some are wonderful,” said the waiter, “but some are hard to figure out.” After some reflection, he adds: “It is as though they are wearing a mask, for they exaggerate when they talk about something they have just eaten.” The cook immediately jumped in with a theatrical voice: “Goodness gracious, this is sooooo delicious!” Both of them in their twenties, the waiter and the cook spoke without any malice. Practical to boot, their observations of different nations did not go beyond their personal experiences. If only everyone else took the same attitude as these young Istrians.