Ainhoa's one painted street

Ainhoa is a bastide village that never grew: one street, houses on both sides, church at one end and open country at the other. The fronts are white with red or dark green timbers, many carry a carved lintel with the builder's name and a date in the sixteen or seventeen hundreds, and the whole line is close enough to fit in one frame from the middle of the road. Beside the church, a fronton — the high wall Basque pelota is played against — closes the view with a flat white rectangle that photographs like a studio backdrop.

Work it as a corridor. Stand in the road and use the receding fronts as a lead; the street is long and straight, so a longer lens stacks the balconies into a wall of colour. Then step into the church, which is dark, low and lined with two tiers of wooden galleries — a completely different register for a portrait, and honest about being a church, so ask, keep quiet and stay out of services.

Coaches come through in the middle of the day and park on the main road; before ten and after six the street is essentially empty. The village faces roughly north-south, so first and last light run down its length instead of across it, which is exactly what you want.

There are no barriers and no fee, but this is a residential street with cars on it. Watch for traffic behind you when you back up for a wide frame, and keep out of the doorways.