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 😉
In the village, the main street
The tall coloured buildings along the seafront, the palazzata a mare:
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.
It’s not all that difficult – there are nooks and crannies where you can shelter from the scorching sun without having to cram into the shade of a bar along with the beer-drinking crowds.
You can read about the Atlantic Reach project here. The proceeds are going to the Samaritans.
My contributions to the project are below.
I hadn’t planned to shoot a series of postcards 😩, but that’s pretty much how things turned out in the first days of my first visit ever to Cinque Terre and Portovenere.
But once the tourists and the heat have subsided, I will be back, and I will enjoy the cool and peaceful dawns, the sea breeze, and have time to seek out a few less clichéd and crowded corners of this beautiful part of Italy.
A word to photographers: go on your own, or with 1 or 2 like-minded spirits. It’s so easy to get around – just be prepared for a fair bit of walking up and down stairs and hillside paths 😉
Another attractive seaside village, although not exactly far from the maddening crowds, given the season and the weather. Here and there, vying for tripod or selfie space at the blue hour goes with the terrain.
… the Scottish seaside 😎
In the best possible company 😉
surrounded by welcoming signs 😳
Guarded by sentinels
and picnicking with the seagulls 😲
Some find it hot…
Others feel the chill
And some go paddling
Homeward bound at dusk
PS Shoulder out of action for another 6-9 months, making do with my phone.
… and as I was strolling along the sand minding my own business, up came this huge crab out of the water that started crawling along beside me demanding my attention.
How about a gentle stroll along a quiet beach, enjoying the breeze, away from the traffic, the noise, the crowds…
This sound I’m hearing, is it the wind reverberating through the twelve bens? An echo from across the ocean? Maybe a ghostly hungry moan lingering from the past?
(Or Yvonne: could it be the humming sound that comes from past-their-shelflife hearing aids when the batteries are left in overnight by mistake?)
Whatever the case, this “green swathe of soft glens, pasture and rainy hills” and the “swathes of white sand”, are places “fit for thinking”, as Tim Scott put it in The Guardian over a decade ago.
And photography is a way of thinking a place.
Neist Point Lighthouse at the tip. Beyond, the islands of North and South Uist, and then the Atlantic Ocean. Wet, windy and wonderful.
Lost that day: a dry bag used to protect camera & lens in between shots. Entire tripod, camera & lens almost came a cropper too.