Good Hotel Guide
Hostels and Hotels in Oxford
If you have a hotel in any of these locations then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.
Abingdon, Bampton, Banbury, Bicester, Burford, Carterton, Chinnor, Chipping Norton, Didcot, Kidlington, Oxford, Thame, Wallingford, Wantage, Watlington, Witney, Woodstock
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.
List your Hostel in Oxford
Below you will find short extracts from More ketchup than Salsa by Joe Cawley – not to be missed.
Short Extract
Get the book
The woman bobbed her head from side to side trying to catch sight of what lay inside. She manoeuvred a little closer to the glass doors, still sweeping back and forth. Her husband remained on the other side of the wall, encouraging her to go closer. As she reached the short width of patio tiles directly outside the doors, she flicked the brush to and fro once more before pushing her nose against the window, shielding her eyes from the reflection to get a better look. Her gaze moved methodically from right to left; from the white sideboard, to the black armchair, the arched reading light, the magazine rack at the edge of the sofa, and thenÂ… Her eyebrows shot skywards taking cover behind a fringe of tight ginger curls. Joy and I smiled and waved from the sofa. She jumped back and began sweeping in double time back to the wall. Her husband must have heard her hisses of ‘they’re in, they’re in’ and had ducked behind an expertly manicured bougainvillea before scuttling towards his own patio doors, head down as if dodging sniper fire. The next morning, obviously embarrassed by their failed undercover operation, the snoopers came a-knocking. Maureen and Pete were in their late 50s. She was a highly-strung redhead with a screeching Midlands accent. He stood at least a foot shorter than her and had disproportionately small eyes like a premature piglet. His black hair was combed in defiance of a balding crown, a flop of unchecked fringe sprawled across a barren expanse.
Abingdon, Bampton, Banbury, Bicester, Burford, Carterton, Chinnor, Chipping Norton, Didcot, Kidlington, Oxford, Thame, Wallingford, Wantage, Watlington, Witney, Woodstock
We all clubbed together and bought you something for the bar,’ said Pat. The others were standing around watching. He handed us a box. Inside were an elaborately framed dartboard and two sets of darts. ‘I bet your bar doesn’t have one of those, does it?’ No, I’m sure it doesn’t,’ I said. ‘Thanks Pat. Thanks everybody.’ We were touched that Pat had taken the trouble to arrange a going away gift, irrespective of the fact that the price tag signalled Whitakers of Bolton had unwittingly donated it. Pat had spared us a final end of day clear-up. We were keen to get home to start packing. There were only three days to go before we were due to fly out and suddenly it seemed like we had a mountain to climb. I wasn’t ready, neither physically nor mentally. I had intended visiting the hunting ground of my schooldays in Glossop. Subconsciously I wanted to be transported back to a time where anxiety, responsibility and financial burden had yet to surface. I wanted to recapture those carefree feelings of walking to Su’s at lunchtime when the biggest decision was whether to have batter bits with my chips. I wanted to stand outside the Surrey Arms where my first serious relationship was sealed with a long kiss, when nothing in the world mattered apart from spending every minute of every hour with Lesley Allen.
Charley poured four glasses of champagne and we toasted her new job and extended holiday. Have you noticed the jeep that parks outside our house some nights?’ I asked Charley. I noticed Charley’s cheeks flushing. ‘No, I can’t say I have,’ she replied. There’s a man that sits in it all night, watching. He makes us kind of edgy. I’m thinking about calling the police. What do you think?