Colors can be seen at night by a full Amalfitana moon. Off to the nearby village of Praiano, suspended between the mountains and the sea, our mouths water as we approach a dimly lit piazza by the small sea port surrounded by cliffs.

Colored boats and nets line the shore as old men, looking more like crustaceans than humans, sit around tables playing cards, listening to the sea. They are waiting for calm, when they will jump in their boats and paddle out for the catch.

A boy of about eight rides his bicycle, a bit too big for him, around and around the piazza dodging everything in sight. It’s a night for cats. Some friends and I thought we would prowl around as well, for che c’e c’e. “What there is, there is. ”