The marina in the calanque

Bonifacio's harbour is not a bay, it is a drowned valley: a narrow inlet running more than a kilometre inland between limestone walls, which is why the place reads like a fjord in photographs. Boats moor along its whole length, the cliff rises on one side and the town sits on top of it, and the quay at the bottom is flat, open and easy to work.

The quays are the practical half of Bonifacio. Everything else here is stairs; this is level ground with cafés, masts, painted hulls and reflections, and it stays usable in wind that has stopped the boats and closed the staircase. Look up for the town on the rim, look along for the row of masts against the cliff, and look down for the reflections, which are cleanest in the first hour of the day before the water is stirred.

Evening is the picture. The inlet runs roughly east-west, so the last light comes straight up it and lights the cliff and the houses on top while the quay is already in shade — a warm background with soft light on your subject.

The boat trips to the caves and to the Lavezzi islands leave from here, and they are the only way to get the town from the water. Buy on the quay, and check the day's sailings, because a strong libeccio cancels them.