The seaside boulevard runs for kilometres along the bay, and before nine in the morning it belongs to runners, old men fishing off the railings and a few of us who simply like to walk.
I go most days in summer. The air still has some of the night’s cool in it, the water is flat and silver, and the towers across the bay look almost soft in the haze.
My route
I start near the funicular, walk west along the water to the little pier with the blue benches, and come back through the park when the sun starts to bite. It takes about an hour with a stop for tea.
By ten the city is loud and bright. At eight it is still yours.
