The bougainvillea drops petals onto the whitewashed steps like pink confetti, not for you, specifically, but it feels that way, as you climb the narrow alley toward the old town of Chora on Folegandros. The church at the top, Panagia, perches on the cliff edge with a view of the Aegean that makes you sit down involuntarily. The sun drops into the sea, the sky goes from orange to violet to the deepest blue you have ever seen, and the woman selling honey at the roadside stall smiles as if to say: yes, this happens every evening. Yes, it never gets old.

Greek Island Romance: A Category of Its Own

There is a reason the Greek islands dominate lists of romantic destinations. It is not just the sunsets, though the sunsets are ludicrous. It is the combination of factors that no marketing department could invent: the light (the Mediterranean sun at a latitude of 36-40 degrees produces a clarity that painters have been chasing for centuries), the architecture (the Cycladic white cube was originally practical, whitewash reflects heat and lime plaster disinfects, but the result is visually intoxicating), and the rhythm of island life, which simply does not accommodate hurry.

Islands for Two: Choosing Your Chemistry

Santorini: The obvious choice, and still the best, if you know how to do it. The caldera view from Oia at sunset is a cliché for a reason, but the crowds are punishing (cruise ships disgorge up to 10,000 day-trippers in peak season). Stay in Imerovigli, the highest point on the caldera, fewer hotels, views just as spectacular, and book a cave suite carved into the volcanic cliff. Dinner at Metaxi Mas (inland, not on the caldera, half the price of the cliffside restaurants) serves Cretan-Santorian food, fava with caramelised onions, tomato fritters, grilled octopus, that tastes the way sunset looks. Book an 8pm table and watch the sky perform while you eat grilled lamb chops that cost €14.

Hydra: No cars. No scooters. The only transport is donkeys and your own feet, and the silence, actual silence, broken only by the clip of hooves on cobblestones, is the most romantic thing about the island. The harbour at dusk, with the fishing boats bobbing and the lights of the tavernas reflecting in the water, is a film set waiting for its director. Leonard Cohen bought a house here in 1960 for $1,500; his ghost is everywhere. The walk to the monastery of Profitis Ilias (40 minutes uphill) rewards with a view of the Peloponnese across the water and a picnic spot that you will have entirely to yourself.

Milos: The island of colours, Sarakiniko beach is a landscape of white volcanic rock sculpted by wind and sea into curves that look like a lunar surface dropped into the Aegean, and the water in the sea caves at Kleftiko is an impossible shade of turquoise that makes you question your phone camera’s colour balance. Rent a small boat (€80-120 for the day, no licence required for boats under 30hp) and explore the coastline at your own speed. Anchor in a cove accessible only by water. Swim naked. Nobody is coming. The island has over 75 beaches, more than any other Cycladic island, and the variety, white cliffs, red sand, black pebbles, thermal springs, means you can choose a different shoreline every day.

Folegandros: The island for couples who want Santorini without the Santorini circus. The Chora (old town) is a perfect Cycladic village, squares so small you could stand in the middle and touch both walls, bougainvillea in riotous bloom, kafenions where old men play backgammon and do not look up when you sit down. The church of Panagia sits 200 metres above the town; the zigzag path takes 15 minutes and the view at the top, sunset, the sea, the silhouette of Sikinos in the distance, is the kind of view that makes you a little sad when the sun finally disappears because you wanted it to last longer. Dinner at Chic in Chora (book ahead, the terrace seats 12) is candlelit, creative Greek, octopus carpaccio, lamb with honey and thyme, and costs about €45 for two with wine.

Sympatra (Nafplio, mainland, island spirit): Nafplio is not an island but it has the soul of one. The first capital of modern Greece (1829-1834), a Venetian fortress town with a waterfront promenade, three castles (Palamidi, 999 steps from the town to the summit, built by the Venetians in 1711-1714), and an island fortress, Bourtzi, sitting in the bay like a stone ship, that you can reach by a five-minute boat ride. The narrow streets of the old town are lined with neoclassical mansions painted in ochre and pistachio. The gelato at Antica Gelateria di Roma (the owner trained in Italy) is the best in Greece. The view from the Palamidi at sunset, with the Argolic Gulf spreading out below you and the mountains of the Peloponnese folding into the distance, is a strong contender for the most romantic panorama in the country.