‘The island of Santorini some way north of Crete shouts long and hard about the beautiful sunsets that can be witnessed from atop its impressive caldera. But the whispered secret of the same event to be seen from the easterly beach in Paleochora is that it is no less spectacular and is a more intimate experience for being clandestine. In keeping with its diffident air, after dark the town bustles but doesn’t shove. As the town blinks and wipes the afternoon sleep from its eyes, it comes awake. Somewhere in the distant lanes a baker leans to knead his dough and the sultry crescent of the moon looks on dispassionate. The tavernas are busy but the air is casual and the visitor can meander contentedly soaking up the pleasures of the streets.’