Too tired to prepare a meal ,we spot a bar nearby that looks shut, but follow a local into a dim interior. Three generations of owners are chatting. Without much hope I ask if there is food. Granny switches on the lights, and gets everyone into action, providing freshly made goats cheese, then pork for Mike and baccalau cod for me, washed down by a carafe of red.
We stay awake long enough to stock up for breakfast at a big nearby supermarket, the first we have used for weeks, having to search out tiny village shops until now. We fear the very noisy amorous frogs in the field behind may keep us awake, but they quieten down as dusk falls.
Next day we take time off pedalling to join a sprinkling of tourists looking at the sights of this well preserved medieval town. The old walls encircle the centre, where local marble is so plentiful it's used everywhere, doorsteps, pavements, 3 big pink fountains, and even the white stripes in zebra crossings. A big town, but it's more like a village with it's myriad of narrow twisty cobbled streets of little houses, with a few grand squares and churches. All the house are smartly painted white with a yellow ochre border. Where the aqueduct enters the walled city, houses infill each arch.
A 2nd C roman temple is the best preserved in Portugal, as it was walled up for years, and is now restored to its Corinthian glory.
Obviously there are uncountable numbers of coffee shops.
Location:Evora
