Evora is a beautiful baroque and rococo (hoorah!) walled city, reminding me of something out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, not least because the town was full of old people who all knew each other, and perhaps because I couldn’t see any children. Indeed many residents were hot contenders for the position of Child Catcher.
The youth hostel was an old hotel slap bang in the centre of town, and with a great breakfast served up each morning setting me up for the day it maintained my faith in hostels as an alternative to hotels. I had always suspected youth hostelling was just a way for Aussies and Kiwis to meet up and shag, but with hotel standards and general cleanliness it’s a great way to travel around. I admit I’m a little slow on the uptake of youth hostelling, having only spent a few nights in them as a cub scout, and I’m sure many of you have already done the travel thing via hostels, but I’m a convert.
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