Walking through the Old City of Split today, I stopped to watch a quartet of traditional Dalmation singers performing in the ancient, domed edifice of the Palace оf Diocletian.

A flock of young school children also stopped, bored and tethered in place by a well-meaning teacher.

A few other strays.

Then a set of squat and elderly Germans, fine mustachios parted neatly over lips, bellies protruding proudly over high-waisted pants.

Then, about one minute or so into the song, three of the Germans — let me once more emphasize their stolid faces, their ages, their apparel, their guts — burst into operatic accompaniment.

The whole crowd would have gasped in amazement, if not rendered utterly speechless. Truly a moment to behold.