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.
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.