Lucca was lovely. A short walk to our B&B around the corner from the amphitheatre and we were ready to have a wander through the town within the walls. Concerts, exhibitions, eating and drinking places galore… this tiny town seemed to have more than enough for our short stop here.
We turned another corner… bubbles everywhere.
The pied bubble maker of Lucca was at work…
calling the children to play…
The next day the area was deserted and the children gone, as were the pied bubble maker and his bubbles, leaving grey sudsy slabs and greenish puddles behind.
After the day’s walkabout, a stroll around the tower area in the evening was the most likely choice, even if it meant coping with crowds. But as it turned out, not noticing them was easier than I’d hoped.
We had plumped for a morning walk, but the tower area was teeming with tourists. The city walls seeming like a decent alternative.
On that quiet and sunny autumn morning, we came upon 3 or 4 other people in as many hours, and ended up in a still and silent residential district.
A tiny sample of views to be had:
And my favourite autumn image so far this year:
As the sun was going down and warming up the rocks below St Peter’s Church, I wondered what that huge tanker had been doing there all day, and would it ever leave.
Then suddenly it slid out of view, only to return a few moments later.
My last evening at Portovenere. I will be back, once the tourist season has quietened down.
Well, one of them 😉. Byron’s (now collapsed) Grotto lies beneath this stone framed window that overlooks the Bay of Poets. Certainly peaceful shortly after 6 am in early June, but no doubt thronging with sunbathers and boats as the day grew hotter.
By now the sun had well and truly risen. After days of non-stop sunshine and intense blue skies, a different light appeared.
For days not a cloud in sight, but when I went out early on my first morning in Portovenere, the weather looked set to change. Would those clouds drop and block the early morning sun?
The boats bobbing up and down in the foreground, constantly changing position, were mesmerising.
I waited in the morning silence for the lights to go off and for the sun to come up over the horizon behind me and light up the palazzata a mare. Not a soul in sight.
Gradually the light and sky changed.
But it was clear that on this particular morning, the sun was not going to tinge the buildings with its early morning light, as the clouds had dropped behind me.
Worth the wait nonetheless.