Camogli

Today was just about a perfect day of solo travel.  This was the view when I got up - with the first beach umbrella being installed at 6.54 a.m.

And this, the view in the other direction.

A couple of hours (necessary) working on my balcony;

Then a half hour boat ride to the former monastery of San Fruttuoso - impressively sited; simple architecture, with some Genoan Gothic.

Entering the monastery, one had to give where one was visiting from, for statistical purposes.

"Los Angeles"

English woman, probably about my age, on a small tour, is nearby.

“Oh, sorry, I hope you don’t mind me overhearing- but did you say you were from Los Angeles?”

“Yes!” (bracing self for question about Riots)

“You’re English, though, aren’t you?  Do you know our Meghan and Harry?”

"Well, Los Angeles is a big city ... I don’t think we really move in the same circles." 

“But do you live near them?”

The view.  One of the things that's most impressive about the monastery - which only started to be restored in the early 1980s - is the attention given to the local environment.  Back in 1915, a whole wing, together with some houses, was demolished in a flash flood (the debris went to make up the current beach), and there have been other episodes since: now, all kinds of inventive anti-erosion schemes are in place.

I sat under some grape vines and drew.

Alas, I didn't see him.  Perhaps not quite a perfect day.

Then I sat and read on a bench on a cliff path, above this - which made me wish that I possessed a swim suit.

Dinner was not just tasty (including a dish of pasta made with chestnut flour, with pesto, potatoes and green beans), but came with the prettiest of plate settings.

a perfect sunset, making this look like a clichéd postcards (when you could buy postcards),

and then the view, again, with clouds.