Good Hotel Guide
Hostels and Hotels in Brighton
All B&Bs, Hostel and Hotels welcome to list their property here – any of these locations then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.
Arundel, Brighton, Eastbourne, Hailsham, Hassocks, Henfield, Hove, Lancing, Lewes, Littlehampton, Newhaven, Peacehaven, Pevensey, Polegate, Seaford, Shoreham-By-Sea, Steyning, Worthing
For UK travelers going abroad, we recommend Tenerife, with feel of the UK yet all the sun of Tenerife. Read an extract below from More Ketchup than Salsa, the story of a English couple who left the UK to set up life in Tenerife. Info on how to buy the book can be found below.
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Below you will find short extracts from More ketchup than Salsa by Joe Cawley – not to be missed.
Short Extract
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Families herded their belongings together. Their holiday started here and shirts were already off, revealing pasty torsos desperate to be toasted. As with all travel, replacing familiar surroundings with the unknown fires an electric charge that awakens a sense of adventure. Even those whose pool of adrenalin had long been suffering a severe drought were caught in this buzz of excitement. Ahead in the queue a beer belly flopped up and down as its exuberant owner heaped embarrassment on his two young daughters with a middle-aged rave. Daaaad! Grow up. Everyone’s looking. Stop being stupid.’ Holiday-hey celebrey-yate. Don’t be boring. We’re on holiday now. Come on pet, get in the spirit.’
Arundel, Brighton, Eastbourne, Hailsham, Hassocks, Henfield, Hove, Lancing, Lewes, Littlehampton, Newhaven, Peacehaven, Pevensey, Polegate, Seaford, Shoreham-By-Sea, Steyning, Worthing
In the evenings, Travel Scrabble saw a lot of action and when word blindness set in, we would master an ability of seeing how many coins we could simultaneously spin on the apartment’s marble floor. Occasionally we would babysit for holidaymakers, introducing their toddlers to the wonders of Monopoly or impressing them with our coin-spinning prowess. During our stint, Joy did manage the odd shift in the local supermarket and I was promised a job with one of the island’s pioneers in bullshit. We were savouring the sterility of the hotel bar in celebration of a new world record in gyrating 25-peseta coins eleven, if you’re interested. All the furnishings were from the ‘sit on the fence’ school of design, created to neither offend nor favour any particular taste. The tables and chairs were busily patterned with green and white leaf motifs, the tables faux bamboo. As much thought had been given to mood lighting as to the gallery of pictures hung on the wall. Spanish tourism posters showing impossible-to-find coves were clipped behind smudged Perspex. We made two pints of beer last as long as possible so that our bowl of complimentary peanuts was kept replenished. A conversation in the adjacent quartet of armchairs had caught our attention. An orange-tanned man in his mid-forties was trying to play it cool with a young, suited Spaniard. No easy feat when you’re wearing Elton John sunglasses.
There were also those foolish few who insisted on wearing beach wear all the way back to the arrivals gate at their UK airport. The wisdom of their choice would be seriously questioned when they stood ruffled and shivering, shuffling from foot to foot at the luggage carousel, as clouds of breath carried muttered obscenities across the empty luggage carousels. The end of a holiday is like the day after Christmas. The thump of reality presents itself in many guises; the Hoover lying in wait when you return the suitcases to the cupboard under the stairs; the pile of florid laundry seemingly out of place in such familiar and faded surroundings; the thick waft of cold air as you put the cat out last thing at night. All serving to remind that the fortnight of fantasy is now just another memory, destined to fade as quickly as an Anglo-Saxon tan. Right, Joe, thanks for all your cooking. We’re off now.’ Another family had popped their heads into the kitchen to say goodbye. This always made me nervous, as it was usually at this point that one of the hardier cockroaches that had somehow escaped the exterminator would be taking an evening stroll along the ceiling or one of the white-tiled walls. Take care. It was nice meeting you. See you next year.’ I waved them off with a dripping spatula.