Suddenly we realized that all the greatest majority of people we had met was composed by old ones…or senior citizens, as I would call them if I respected political correctness. Actually I'm always respectful of all people, but I like calling things by their names, since I don't think there is any harm in words. The bad side is only in the meaning we give to words, not in their essence.
Then I'm old too, even though I must confess I felt slightly less old in company of all those very active and pleasant elderly people, starting from the gentleman who owned the flat we had rented. I might have already mentioned he was at least 90.
On the small bus which took us to Portovenere people were nearly all quite old, with the exception of a couple of young tourist with enormous rucksacks. There was also a group of travellers all over 70 and extremely energetic.
For reasons I cannot analyse right now, all those splendid old people felt a sudden urge to communicate and, already on the bus and then while we tried to find our way to Portovenere from the bus stop, they started speaking to us as if we were all old good acquaintances.
Here I took a quick portraits of two very kind local gentlemen who warmly suggested us were starting our random visit from.