B&Bs and Hotels in Western Isles

Good Hotel Guide

Hostels and Hotels in Western Isles

Got a hotel to list? – any of these locations then please contact us to list your hotel below, free of charge.

Castlebay, Harris, Isle Of Benbecula, Isle Of Lewis, Isle Of Scalpay, Leverburgh, Lochboisdale, Lochmaddy, Stornoway

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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Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ I interrupted. This was in danger of becoming serious. ‘From having a bar job in Tenerife, we’ve gone into partnership with my brother and into debt with Jack to the tune of a hundred-and-sixty-five grand. All on an island two thousand miles away with a population that doesn’t speak English. And all behind my back. Where exactly does my opinion come into all this?’ Joy became defensive as she always did when she was on the offensive. ‘Calm down. It’s just an idea. Just forget I ever said it and tomorrow we can go back behind that crappy stall and stink of fish for the rest of our lives.’ Several pints later – I suspect that they had been laced a little – the whys and wherefores had progressed to whens and hows. I hadn’t seen my brother for several months. Like me he was drifting through life waiting for an opportunity to be handed to him on a plate. Over the three days since the seed of the idea had been planted, I assumed that like me he’d begun to think that this could possibly be it.

Castlebay, Harris, Isle Of Benbecula, Isle Of Lewis, Isle Of Scalpay, Leverburgh, Lochboisdale, Lochmaddy, Stornoway

If there was a certain amount of self-interest in the proposition, there was also a smattering of sense in Jack being the one to suggest it. After decades of flogging houses on the home front, he had retired from his UK partnership the year before and had set up a similar venture for property investors overseas. Tenerife was the first port of call, as residential tourism was just starting to follow in the footsteps of its package holiday popularity. For UK investors seeking a red-hot winter bolthole while the rest of Europe turned blue, the Canary Islands had recently emerged as a leading contender, with one advantage over the Spanish Costas – winter sun. Located less than 100 miles from the coast of North Africa, the seven islands of the Canarian archipelago had all the assets that a North European citizen looking to escape grey winters could ask for. Perma-sunshine, an eternal spring climate, safe bathing and an enlarging expat community. Historically this septuplet of islands had drawn the attention of many British visitors, most of them unwanted. In 1595 the Canarians beat off Sir Francis Drake as he tried to conquer La Palma. In 1797 Nelson and his arm parted ways during an ill-timed attack on Santa Cruz de Tenerife. And while docked off the same island in 1832, Charles Darwin was thwarted in his lifelong ambition to explore the archipelago because of the risk of a cholera epidemic. With all the chronicled exploits of the early visitors, it’s surprising that it wasn’t until the late 1980s that the masses cottoned on to the appeal of the Canaries. For Joy and me, though, it wasn’t the beaches, pine forests or volcanic badlands that had provided the lure. If Jack had diverted his attentions towards pig farming in Lithuania and dangled a means of becoming swine entrepreneurs, I think we would have been equally enthused. It was merely the dream of an adventurous escape from our usual drudgery but with the added incentive of daily sunshine, and a potential pot of gold if we managed to avoid spectacular failure.

Many holidaymakers used more of their luggage allowance on catering packs of bacon, frozen sausages, boxes of PG Tips and tins of baked beans than on summer clothes, guide books and sun tan lotion. This need for familiarity created the demand for British bars abroad, the same need that created the supply. What better way to satisfy the desire for familiarity with a need to earn a living? To own your own pub is a pipedream for many British men. To have that pub in a sunny climate just adds to the attraction. But the majority who fulfil that dream in a resort destination like Tenerife return home to the UK with their vision in tatters, having acquired a lighter pocket, an alcoholic addiction and, if they went with their partner, a severely strained relationship. In Las Américas, whole streets are dedicated to George and Dragons, Red Lions, White Horses and other British-themed pubs and they all compete for the same custom. Few have anything new to offer, most relying on the lure of David Jason, John Cleese and Jeremy Beadle reruns or pints of beer at five pesetas less than the bar next door.