Genoa to Camogli

I managed to spend most of the morning in my favorite cemetery in Genoa, the Monumental Cemetery of Staglieno, which has some wonderful (and wonderfully kitsch) nineteenth century sculptures.  I took a whole lot of photos there eighteen years ago: are these the same sculptured hands that I captured then, with a by-now faded flower, or a different pair?  I think different; I think the flower before was fresh ...

This time I turned right, not left, 

and went up the hill to the more overgrown part, which was full of northern European Gothic:

This recently ascended angel seems to be inscribing his own death date.

Something more cheerful!  

And then the train down the coast to Camogli, which is small and picture-postcard beautiful: two nights of listening to the waves crashing gently beneath me.

I know you'll be sorry you weren't eating dinner here at my hotel (using, I note, the same cutlery that we have at home, which we bought after encountering it at another Italian seaside hotel in 2017) -

but maybe not too sorry that you weren't dive-bombed by an enormous seagull as you were writing up this blog ...