B&Bs and Hotels in Paisley

Good Hotel Guide

Hostels and Hotels in Paisley

If you have a hotel in any of these locations then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.

Appin, Ballygrant, Bishopton, Bowmore, Bridge Of Orchy, Bridge Of Weir, Bridgend on the Isle of Islay, Bruichladdich, Cairndow, Campbeltown, Colintraive, Craighouse, Dalmally, Dunoon, Erskine, Gourock, Greenock, Inveraray, Isle Of Coll, Isle Of Colonsay, Isle Of Gigha, Isle Of Iona, Isle Of Mull, Johnstone, Kilmacolm, Lochgilphead, Lochwinnoch, Oban, Paisley, Port Askaig, Port Charlotte, Port Ellen, Port Glasgow, Portnahaven, Renfrew, Rothesay, Scarinish, Skelmorlie, Tarbert, Taynuilt, Tighnabruaich, Wemyss Bay

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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As the soundtrack changed from a fanfare of blaring trumpets to the ambient swirls of synthesiser music, the pièce de résistance began. A black rectangular box was wheeled from behind the backdrop. After much posturing, Monique climbed inside and waved au revoir. Only her head and feet remained visible. Gaston pushed the box from one side of the stage to the other to show that both Monique’s feet and head were moving. As he did, I thought I heard another loud crack. Wayne was beyond caring at this stage, having smoked himself into oblivion. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his eyes half-closed and a grin plastered across his face. Gaston began to saw the box in half, pausing occasionally to check if Monique was all right. As the blade was nearly halfway through the box, I noticed the right-hand side of the stage had begun to part company with the left. Unfortunately, Monique was positioned over each half of the separating sections. Gaston began pumping frantically with the saw to keep up with the rapidly widening gap. The saw broke free at the bottom of the box and Monique, who was oblivious of the external problems, cried out theatrically as if in pain. Gaston stepped back raising his saw in mock horror and stamping a foot behind him for effect. This was as much as the right-hand side of the stage could take and the outer supports collapsed. The two pieces were now only held together by a handful of assorted screws that Wayne had used to unite them. The discrepancy in levels was enough to start Monique’s feet on a slow roll to the right. Gaston stretched out his left leg, jamming a foot under the castors to foil the escape while trying to maintain a smile. The sudden shift in weight caused the screws to release their grip and the left side of the stage kicked free. Monique’s feet trundled right, her upper half began to roll left. Trapped inside her wooden coffin, she could do no more than strain her eyes to see where she was heading. Gaston threw down the saw and made a brave effort to jam his other leg under the other half of his assistant but having adopted the ‘splits’ position, he discovered he was in no shape to sustain it. He toppled backwards with a fit of Gallic expletives, watching Monique’s boxed head gain speed as she edged closer towards the left-hand lip of the stage. Fortunately although Monique may not have viewed it that way rather than rolling straight off and toppling over, the first set of castors dropped over the edge, tilting the box just enough to thud Monique’s head firmly against a store cupboard door, wedging her at an unlikely angle but saving her from any further injury.

You can’t have had much to put down as a deposit, I guess. Were you working in England or on the dole, bleeding the country dry like all the other youngsters too lazy to get off their backsides?’ We both worked in retail,’ said Joy. In what capacity?’ continued Pete. Sales.’ I replied.

Yes, come in, he’s just finishing his breakfast.’ I followed Mrs Tanner inside. Barry was sat at a table in the bay window, finishing off the last remnants of a full fry-up. Three grey-haired ladies sat with him, watching his every mouthful. On seeing me he started to choke on a piece of bacon rind. Mrs Tanner strode over and gave him a hearty whack between the shoulder blades. I er I was just coming to tell you,’ he spluttered. ‘They’ve left.’ When?’ About half an hour ago. Elsie here was kind enough to make me breakfast while I was on stakeout. It would have been rude to refuse.’ He looked at me apologetically. I rolled my eyes. Mrs Tanner gazed at Barry lovingly, then turned back to me.