It's a noticeably quiet Sunday morning in Campiglia Maritime, with, yes, bells ringing at the church up the street. Mark's t-shirt may be irreverent but appropriate:

Here are a few more pictures from walking around the village:

This is a wisteria vine--the mother of them all?

Looking down from our bedroom window to where we duck into the hotel's bike room at street level; the white bird silhouette is one of a trail that shows the way to an exhibit about the swifts:

And a few more photos of what's pretty typical for cycling:

A few days ago we poked around a little bit in Venturina, the busier, more urban town between Campiglia and the shore, where we were delighted to find these lamps in the pedestrian street, taking after the poppies that grow along the roads and in the fallow fields:

We walked back up to Campiglia following a route set out by red-and-white marks along the way.

Friends have arrived from the US so we make up a gang of seven now, with Ron and Marion Miller, John and Ruth Wood, and Mark Mahan Our Fearless Leader between H and me: