Sarakiniko

Sarakiniko is a bay on the north coast where the volcanic tuff has been sanded by wind and sea into a smooth, bone-white landscape with almost nothing growing on it. Photographed against the deep blue of the Aegean it reads as lunar, and the scale is deceptive: ridges that look like distant hills are two metres high, which lets a photographer build layered frames within a few steps.

Light is the whole game here. At midday the white rock throws so much glare that faces go flat and there is not a scrap of shade anywhere on it. First light and the last hour are when the surface picks up texture, the shadows come back into the folds, and the inlet in the middle turns turquoise instead of white. Dawn has the second advantage of emptiness: by ten the inlet is full of swimmers and the parking above it is full of cars.

The rock is chalky and slips underfoot where it is dusty, and the drops to the water are unrailed. Flat shoes, and no walking backwards while framing. It is a five-minute drive from Adamas, which makes it the easy half of a two-stop session with Klima.