Good Hotel Guide
Hostels and Hotels in Outer London 2
If you have a hotel in any of these locations then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.
Marylebone, Mayfair, Merton, Mill Hill, Moorgate, Muswell Hill, New Southgate, North Finchley, North Kensington, Notting Hill, Paddington, Palmers Green, Plaistow, Poplar, Redbridge, Richmond upon Thames, Shepherds Bush, Shepherd’s Bush, Shoreditch, Soho, South Tottenham, Southgate, St John’s Wood, St Paul’s, Stamford Hill, Stepney Green, Stoke Newington, Strand, Stratford, Sutton, The Hyde, Tottenham, Upper and Lower Clapton, Upper Edmonton, Upper Holloway, Upton Park, Victoria Dock, Waltham Forest, Walthamstow, Wanstead, Wapping, West Ealing, West Kensington, West London, Whetstone, Willesden, Winchmore Hill, Wood Green, Woodford
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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In times of trouble, faced with the prospect of having to go and find work, it’s amazing just how far you can stretch a measly subsidy. Mealtimes forced a creative compromise between economy and edibility. One-pan cooking was the trend, the ingredients being relatively inconsequential. Tuna, sausages, cheese, potatoes, eggs, rice, tomatoes, peppers, vinegar and oil were united in what we called ‘stir-fry surprise’ and what usually proved to be only palatable if preceded by copious quantities of carton wine. The ingredients were donations from kind holidaymakers who we befriended by the resort pool. ‘Meet us on the hotel steps on Friday and we’ll give you whatever food we’ve got left over,’ they would say. Fridays were like Christmas, racing home to see what presents had been left in Santa’s supermarket bags. 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.
Marylebone, Mayfair, Merton, Mill Hill, Moorgate, Muswell Hill, New Southgate, North Finchley, North Kensington, Notting Hill, Paddington, Palmers Green, Plaistow, Poplar, Redbridge, Richmond upon Thames, Shepherds Bush, Shepherd’s Bush, Shoreditch, Soho, South Tottenham, Southgate, St John’s Wood, St Paul’s, Stamford Hill, Stepney Green, Stoke Newington, Strand, Stratford, Sutton, The Hyde, Tottenham, Upper and Lower Clapton, Upper Edmonton, Upper Holloway, Upton Park, Victoria Dock, Waltham Forest, Walthamstow, Wanstead, Wapping, West Ealing, West Kensington, West London, Whetstone, Willesden, Winchmore Hill, Wood Green, Woodford
Is there something you know that we don’t?’ I asked, squinting in the sun. Thick gold chains rested on tanned chests. Both had silver hair, combed back away from identical Ray-Bans. Although each had a reasonable physique, I guessed they must have been in their 60s. You’ve been cut off,’ said the shorter John. Aye, snipped,’ dittoed the other. Not just you. Everybody. Everybody’s been cut off. Apart from us, that is,’ continued John One.
David and Faith grew increasingly exhausted over the next 48 hours. Their eyes bore the red marks of too little sleep, too many tears. Faith had decided to leave despite David’s pleas for her not to go. She argued that she didn’t want to move to Tenerife in the first place, nor get married in circumstances that she felt had been forced on her. Now she found herself in a business partnership where she not only disliked the nature of the business, but also where she wasn’t treated as an equal partner. She was leaving Tenerife and David for good. The marriage was over. On the morning of her departure we didn’t open the bar until 6p.m. allowing David time to help Faith pack and take her to the airport. Joy and I didn’t see her before she went. Instead she wrote us a letter explaining her reasons for leaving and apologising if the decision left us in the lurch. It did, but the inconvenience was secondary to the rage I felt at her abandoning my brother. He came in to the bar at 7.30 and worked silently in the kitchen until the last order had been sent out. He left the bar with two bottles of red wine, to return to an empty apartment with his marriage in tatters. David’s bid for a golden opportunity had already cost him dearly. I wondered whether he contemplated following Faith back to save his marriage or if he felt more compelled to stay with the business. Time would tell. Surprise!’