Even if I had all the money in the world, I think I would probably still take holidays in youth hostels. There’s something about them, what’s a good word…they’re cosy? Don’t get me wrong, posh hotels are very enjoyable and make for nice special treats (I will never forget our honeymoon, for example) but for me personally I feel like I can relax more truly in places that are more simple, less distracting and less pretentious. Places where I can go and make myself a proper cup of tea and wear my pyjamas to breakfast. I like camping and I like youth hostels. I like the back-to-basicsness of them; they push my reset button.

My husband was never much of a hosteller…before he met me, that is. When I first presented him with the idea of hostelling a few years back he reacted with “But people take guitars to youth hostels” and feared that evenings would be spent to the accompaniment of tuneless singing. “Oooh no, don’t be silly” I said and a couple of hostel visits later this stereotype was proven wrong. Not a guitar or other similarly stringed instrument in sight. Or should I say within earshot. “Hostels aren’t like what they used to be” I reiterated.

Until we stayed at Pigeon Point, that is. And what a fine example…

But in honesty, neither of us actually minded that much really. They did indeed sing songs well into the evening (Puff the Magic Dragon was a particular personal highlight *ahem*) but all it did was add to the charm of the place and made for some happy, happy memories. And shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I actually rather like it when people bring along their guitars (sometimes they’re really good…sometimes).

PS keep a little lookout at around 39 seconds for Oliver’s latest little party trick. He’s been doing this for a couple of weeks now and is getting rather good at it, clever little boy xx