The King of Aragon staircase

The Escalier du Roi d'Aragon drops from the edge of the haute ville to a ledge just above the water: 187 steps hacked into the limestone at an angle that feels close to a ladder. The legend is that Aragonese besiegers cut them in a single night in 1420; the likelier explanation is that Bonifacio needed a way down to fresh water at the foot of the cliff. Either way, from the top the frame is vertical and unusual — a stair running straight down a white wall of rock with the sea filling the bottom of the picture.

The strongest images are from the top of the flight looking down, and from about a third of the way down looking back up at the town on the rim. Going further is a scramble rather than a walk, and there is no room on the steps to work with a subject once other people are on them.

Practical, and not negotiable: it is ticketed, the stone is worn smooth and often damp with spray, and it closes in strong wind or heavy rain. Check on the morning, not the week before. Flat shoes with grip, no long hems, and nothing carried loose in a hand.

Go early. By the middle of the day the queue on the steps is continuous, and there is nowhere to let it pass.