B&Bs and Hotels in Kirkwall

Good Hotel Guide

Hostels and Hotels in Kirkwall

Do you have a hotel or B&B in one of thses towns then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.

Berriedale, Brora, Dunbeath, Forsinard, Golspie, Halkirk, Helmsdale, Kinbrace, Kirkwall, Latheron, Lybster, Orkney, Stromness, Thurso, Wick

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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Thankfully, in the absence of webbed obstacles, I managed to cast my line without any immediate threat to Joy, Frank or myself. The bright floats played peacefully on the surface of the ocean while Frank and I watched them like protective parents. Joy had already lost interest in her line and had reclined as much as Frank’s boat would allow. The sky was an unblemished canvas of vivid blue, reflecting its glory in the vast ocean. Suddenly my reel began whirring. ‘Got one, you bastard,’ Frank shouted. He put down his rod and turned his attention to mine. ‘Give it a jerk and start reeling it in,’ he said. The fish didn’t put up much of a fight, presumably saving its energy for face-to-face combat. It broke the surface a couple of metres from the boat. I lifted the line and it swung in towards Frank’s face, missing by inches. Now, don’t believe every rubber-suited wet-head who boasts of the unspoilt beauty that lies beneath the waves. There are some damn ugly creatures living down there. I’m not saying that the undersea world doesn’t have its fair share of fetching characters. The unjustly named Bastard Grunt has a certain cutesy appeal with its delicate shade of pink while large gangs of Turkish wrasse with Day-Glo blue decorate the water like hand-painted ornaments. But let’s face it, sea cucumbers, weever fish and moray eels are not going to win any underwater beauty pageants. These unsightly monsters understandably spend much of their time hiding their afflictions in dark caves or camouflaged against the seabed until some scuba diver starts adding to their misery with a spear gun. It’s the downright hideous that elicit most gasps and I had one of their brethren dangling by the lip. Back on the market this was not a fish that would have sold at three for a fiver, even ten for a fiver. Its brown and white body was mottled with a profusion of tiny warts and its dorsal fin was clearly designed to be left alone by the sensible.

Berriedale, Brora, Dunbeath, Forsinard, Golspie, Halkirk, Helmsdale, Kinbrace, Kirkwall, Latheron, Lybster, Orkney, Stromness, Thurso, Wick

The woman began to brush our lawn, eyeing the patio doors for signs of life. Satisfied that there was none, she climbed over the wall and continued to sweep the grass. What’s she doing?’ sniggered Joy. Brushing our lawn, I think.’ 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.

Just as the two Johns tried to impress on the new customers that they were frequenting their bar, so it was on the island in general. Whether in Las Americas or in the secluded villages like La Caleta, the expats treated the island as if it was their own, making it perfectly obvious that holidaymakers were naive and ignorant in the ways of their land, and were fair game to be parodied. Dos El Dorados por favor,’ those brave enough to make the effort with the local language would ask at our bar. Dos Dorados? You’re not asking for a TV programme, you know,’ mocked John One. ‘You mean Dorada. It’s not dorado, it’s Dorada. Dos Doradas por favor. If you’re going to speak the language, speak it properly.’ This was from a man whose Spanish vocabulary came to a spluttering halt after exhausting his knowledge on two beers, a hamburger and shouting ‘oy, guapa’ (oy, beautiful) at anything with smooth legs and a pulse. Mind you, our own attempts at ploughing into the local lingo had not altogether harvested the desired results. All of the delivery companies were Spanish and rather than call them all ‘Manuel’, as many of the expats did, we gave them nicknames: Chop delivered the meat; Captain Birdseye brought the frozen fish; Crusty took our bread order; Marine Boy dropped off the bottled water; Popeye was our soft drinks man; and Bill and Ben, two rotund beer truck drivers, delivered the barrels of Dorada.