landscape

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Last evening in Portovenere

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.

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Then suddenly it slid out of view, only to return a few moments later.

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My last evening at Portovenere. I will be back, once the tourist season has quietened down.

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Byron’s swimming pool

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.

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Daylight in Portovenere

By now the sun had well and truly risen. After days of non-stop sunshine and intense blue skies, a different light appeared.

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I waited and waited

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?
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The boats bobbing up and down in the foreground, constantly changing position, were mesmerising.

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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.

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Gradually the light and sky changed.

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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.

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Worth the wait nonetheless.


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Early morning blues

Up at 4.30, to wait for the early morning sun to light up the palazzata a mare in Portovenere. Far too early, considering that dawn was still an hour away, and the palazzata a couple of minutes’ walk.  But the peace and quiet that comes with those early morning blues is unmissable 😉

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Evening colours

In the village, the main street

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The tall coloured buildings along the seafront, the palazzata a mare:

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The Bay of Poets

Looking across the Bay at St Peter’s Church from a spot not far from the Castle, I found it easy  in the summer heat to imagine Byron swimming here. It was harder to visualise the sudden storm here in which Shelley is said to have drowned.

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