Hostels and Hotels in Gloucester
If you have a hotel in one of these areas then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.
Badminton, Berkeley, Blakeney, Cheltenham, Chipping Campden, Cinderford, Cirencester, Coleford, Drybrook, Dursley, Dymock, Fairford, Gloucester, Lechlade, Longhope, Lydbrook, Lydney, Mitcheldean, Moreton-In-Marsh, Newent, Newnham, Ruardean, Stonehouse, Stroud, Tetbury, Tewkesbury, Westbury-On-Severn, Wotton-Under-Edge
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
The young couple spoke in singsong Wolverhampton tones, an accent that Im ashamed to say I find hard to take seriously. It was as such when Wayne announced on the last day of his holiday that hed be back in a few weeks. Sure he would, I thought. However, one morning after a frenzied breakfast rush, Joy and I sat flicking baby cockroaches across the bar top when suddenly, Wayne appeared in the doorway. ‘All right? he waved. ‘Us told you Id be back, didnt I? He was alone. Becky had not been as convinced as him about stepping out of the dole queue in Wolverhampton to make a new life for herself overseas. ‘Us dumped her, us did. She wasnt for moving, boring cow. Wayne was one of the many wannabes who we had automatically strung along with half-hearted suggestions of employment if he ever returned, which naturally we thought he wouldnt. ‘If you come back, look us up. We might have work for you, we said. Its surprising what benevolence four large beers can evoke. Fortunately for Wayne, he arrived at a time when we were wondering who we could find that would work for low wages in appalling conditions, and be trusted to put more pesetas in the till than they would take out. We had all liked Wayne. He was cheeky but sincere. He had no reservations about telling us of his dodgy past and short spells spent at her Majestys pleasure, then quickly adding ‘but that was all in the past. We decided that we would give him a few DIY jobs, coupled with a few hours collecting glasses during the busy times. In return, we could pay him just enough money to afford rental on a studio apartment and would also provide him with a meal while he was working.
Badminton, Berkeley, Blakeney, Cheltenham, Chipping Campden, Cinderford, Cirencester, Coleford, Drybrook, Dursley, Dymock, Fairford, Gloucester, Lechlade, Longhope, Lydbrook, Lydney, Mitcheldean, Moreton-In-Marsh, Newent, Newnham, Ruardean, Stonehouse, Stroud, Tetbury, Tewkesbury, Westbury-On-Severn, Wotton-Under-Edge
Apparently, the unfinished apartments at the top of the complex were the problem. In Tenerife, the builder is obliged to provide electricity and water until the complex is officially finished and handed over to the community, by which time the responsibility is passed to the individual owners. Our builder had decided that he had finished all the work that he was going to do and informed the electricity company, who duly noted that nobody else had applied to take over the electricity account, and promptly pulled the plug. Everybody on the complex was affected apart from those who had found out about the need to apply for a private supply and had already had individual meters installed. Our two jovial Johns had heard about the new requirements by chance and were two of very few on the complex who had not been plunged into darkness. For want of anything better to do, they were now wandering through the complex, gloating at everybody they could find. Its a bit serious, isnt it, said John One. ‘I mean, a bar without electricity? What can you do? Become a salad bar? Aye, a salad bar. Good one, John. Salad and water warm water, mind. They both set about laughing. This was getting us nowhere apart from feeling more irritated by the two clowns. What do you suggest? I asked, interrupting their mirth.
One morning, emerging from the cold, dark, hush of Ashburner Street, I was still deep in thought about warm quilts and soft pillows, hands burrowed in my donkey jacket, collar turned up in defence against the biting chill, when suddenly I was eye to eye with what appeared to be a large shark, grinning at me from atop a trestle table in the middle of the market hall. The heart-stopping apparition was indeed a 3-metre shark, Pats latest ‘attention-grabber. It had certainly grabbed mine. Pats beam matched the sharks as he noticed my shock. ‘Think you can sell that? he asked. Its a shark, I said. Top marks, Einstein. I can see educations not been wasted on you. But this morning it was fauna of a different kind that was destined to draw the gapes of Boltons plastic bag brigade. A fresh delivery of live crabs had arrived and Sandra had carefully arranged a dozen of them on their backs, little legs cycling in unison between the cockles and mussels.