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Attention Tax

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about interruptions at work; not just obvious interruptions like phone calls, Teams messages, or someone asking “got a minute?” (although they can be a pain too), but the hidden cost that comes after the interruption.

I think most workplaces still treat interruptions as a simple time problem, where if somebody interrupts you for 10 minutes, then supposedly you've lost 10 minutes of work.

But that isn’t really how it works is it. Well not for me anyway!

You'll notice it especially if you’re doing deeper work ... writing, planning, problem solving, analysing data, designing something, trying to properly think something through ... the interruption itself is only part of the damage.

There’s also the refocus time afterwards.

You have to mentally reload the task back into your brain. Remember where you were. Rebuild the momentum. Re-enter the thought process you were already halfway through before somebody derailed it.

Sometimes a 2 minute interruption can cost 20 minutes of useful thinking.

I’ve started thinking of this as an “Attention Tax”.

Every interruption taxes your concentration a little bit. One interruption is manageable. Ten in a day starts fragmenting your thinking completely.

And I think this is partly why some days feel mentally exhausting even if you’ve technically “done loads”, you haven’t spent the day doing productive work, you’ve spent the day rebuilding momentum over and over again.

Modern workplaces almost seem designed around interruption now.

Side note: I remember when I started by career in British Telecom in 1987, been told that when it was still the civil service, managers had flags attached to their intrays, and if a red flag was showing, you couldn't talk to them ... I sometimes wish I had that here. 

Emails. Teams notifications. Meetings. “Quick questions”. Artificial urgency. Constant deadline pressure.

We also seem to reward responsiveness, it's deemed to be a good things if you accept the interruption and rude if you don't, but I’m not convinced we reward depth anymore.

I touched on some of this already in my post about why I hate deadlines, but I think there’s probably a bigger idea buried in all this somewhere.

This is definitely a seed post for now. I think there’s more to explore here.

Best Way To Get AI to Sound Like A Human

OK, I've been working with AI for quite a while now, and honestly I love it for writing content.

But one thing still stands out ... what's the best way to get AI to sound like a human instead of a polished marketing robot?

This is the current base prompt I use. It works reasonably well across most AI tools.

I will keep adding to it and updating it because AI writing styles keep evolving. What sounds human today probably becomes tomorrow's obvious AI pattern.

I've tested variations of this across ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and Copilot, and while none of them become perfectly human, this sort of structure definitely helps calm down a lot of the obvious AI writing habits.

"Write like an experienced human writer, not a marketing template or assistant.

Vary sentence length and structure naturally. Mix short, medium, and longer sentences. Let the rhythm feel uneven in a human way.

Use plain English, active voice, and concrete wording. Prefer everyday phrases over jargon, buzzwords, or corporate language.

Humans like contractions (hasn't, wouldn't, and couldn't etc), so add a good mix of these types of word were appropriate, as they make communication sound more natural and fluid.

Avoid clichés, filler, forced transitions, and predictable paragraph patterns. Do not make every paragraph the same length or end with a neat concluding sentence.

Use contractions naturally. Address the reader directly where appropriate.

Keep a calm, confident tone. Avoid sounding overexcited, overhelpful, or overly polished.

Cut unnecessary words. Rewrite awkward phrasing instead of adding explanation around it.

Use specific observations, grounded examples, and occasional conversational phrasing where it improves flow.

Avoid repetitive grammar patterns, repeated connector words, and overly balanced sentence construction.

Do not use em dashes.

Prioritise clarity, rhythm, and readability over sounding impressive.

Ordinals when written as numerals should always have a suffix: '-st' ('first', '21st') '-nd' ('second', '32nd') '-rd' ('third', '103rd') etc

If a sentence sounds robotic when read aloud, rewrite it."

The interesting thing is that no single prompt can fully force AI to sound human. You still need task-specific modifiers underneath it.

Things like:

"Write academically"
"Write casually"
"Write for UK tradespeople"
"Write for beer enthusiasts"
"Write for busy business owners"
"Write for someone aged 18"
"Write like a newspaper column"

etc.


Carters of Knottingley Brewery

There’s something strange about finding history on your own doorstep. I've lived in and around Knottingley for a very long time, I've spent years drinking beer, and more recently started writing about it, yet I had no idea that Knottingley once had its own proper brewery. Not a small operation either, but a serious one with tied houses, its own identity, and a long run in the town.

Once I found it, I couldn’t unsee it. And once I started reading more, the thought crept in… what if it came back? Not as a museum piece or a nostalgia exercise, but as a living Yorkshire beer again. This isn’t a business plan, it’s more of a running note, somewhere to collect the story and see where it leads.

The early days

Carters begins around the turn of the 1800s, built on a partnership that brought together three very different people and strengths.

  • Mark Carter came with brewing knowledge from an established family
  • Edward Gaggs brought money and local influence through his work in limestone and shipping
  • Robert Seaton added financial weight through banking. 

It’s a strong mix when you look back at it now, and it explains how quickly things moved.

At first, brewing took place in older buildings near the town, but that changed within a few years. By 1807, land at Mill Close had been bought, and by 1808 to 1809 a purpose-built brewery stood at Hill Top alongside Lime Grove (opposite where Morrisons is today). That quick and dramatic shift says a lot. This was never a side project; it was set up to be a proper, long-term operation.

Building a proper brewery

Through the early 1800s, the brewery established itself as a known local producer. By 1822 it appears in trade directories as “common brewers” at Mill Close, which gives a sense of its standing at the time. The site itself had real advantages, with deep bore water drawn from limestone, likely early use of steam power, and strong links to local transport and industry. It grew alongside the town rather than sitting outside it.

The Carter family years

The Carter name stayed central as ownership passed through generations. In 1836, Mark Carter stepped back and John Carter took control, and then in 1873 George William Carter succeeded him. By this stage the brewery had moved beyond being just a local concern; it had scale, structure, and a recognisable identity, it wasn't starting to become known as a never capable brewer of decent ales.

One detail from this period stands out more than most. In 1877, the brewery registered a trademark featuring a Talbot dog taken from the Carter coat of arms. It’s a small piece of history on the surface, but it carries real weight. If the name ever returned, that symbol would be the natural bridge between past and present.

Expansion and peak

In 1892, the business became a public company, with Carters’ Knottingley Brewery Company Ltd formed to acquire the brewery, Lime Grove, and 66 tied houses for £170,000 (approx £28m in todays money, that's not much less than the £33m it cost Tilbury Brands to buy BrewDog in March 2026). That figure alone tells you the scale of the operation at the time, and it marks the point where the brewery was fully established as a regional player.

At its peak, Carters was producing somewhere around 6,500 to 7,000 barrels a year (about 2m pints to you and me) and controlling close to 68 licensed houses. That puts it firmly in the category of a serious Yorkshire brewery rather than a small local outfit.

Trouble and takeover

The early 1930s brought problems. Internal struggles, legal disputes, and pressure on the business began to take their toll, and by 1935 the end came quickly. The brewery was taken over by Bentleys, and brewing in Knottingley stopped that same year.

The name didn’t disappear overnight, but the brewing itself did, and that was the turning point. What followed was less about beer and more about ownership on paper.

The slow disappearance

After the takeover, the brewery became part of a much larger chain. It moved through Bentleys, then into Whitbread, then Interbrew, and eventually into AB InBev. That corporate path explains why the local identity faded, as the brand was absorbed into something much bigger.

By 1965, the Hill Top site was sold off, and not long after it was demolished and replaced with housing. At that point, the physical brewery disappeared completely, leaving only records and fragments of the story behind.

Where that leaves it now

So what’s left today is not a building or a working brewery, but something just as interesting. There’s a clear founding story, named people, production figures, tied houses, and even a registered trademark with a strong visual identity. That’s more than most modern breweries ever start with, and it gives the whole idea a different weight.

The idea that won’t go away

This is the part I keep coming back to. There’s a difference between inventing a brand and picking up a dropped one. Carters isn’t made up; it existed, it brewed, and it mattered locally. Bringing it back would not be about pretending nothing changed, but about continuing the story in a way that feels honest.

If it ever did return, it would need to stay grounded. Yorkshire first, a clear link back to Knottingley, a modern take on the Talbot symbol, and no overblown claims about heritage. Just a straight line from then to now, with a long pause in the middle.

Where this goes next

For now, this stays as a working note. A place to collect dates, names, ideas, and the odd bit of inspiration as it comes along. It might grow into something more practical over time, or it might simply remain a record of a brewery that used to exist and still probably should.

Either way, it’s not going anywhere now I’ve found it.

 




 

A Move to Spain

My wife and I never really talked about moving abroad. It never crossed our minds.

Life was here in the UK. Family was here. And now there’s a grandson in the mix too. That should have been enough to keep us rooted... but something suddenly changed.

I guess recent family events have a way of doing that. They changed the way we thought about life. Both my wife and I suddenly realised that life is for living. It has to be fun and enjoyable, and maybe a move abroad could do that for us.

We could stay in Yorkshire, or in the UK at least, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But the reality is our family is already dotted all over the UK. It’s not like we’re all on the same street.

My wife watches a lot of A Place in the Sun, and the life you can have out there, especially in early retirement, looks pretty idyllic.

And if any of our kids turned around tomorrow and said they were off to live abroad, we wouldn’t hesitate to back them.

It was while we were holidaying in Salou, Spain, at the Costa Durada Hotel, in September 2025 that we both suddenly twigged that Spain could actually be our place in the sun. A new home, maybe.

It ticked a lot of boxes for us. A good and cheaper holiday base for the kids and grandchildren, PortAventura World right next door, only around a two-hour flight from the UK, and roughly 7 to 9 hours of sunshine a day for much of the year. In summer, it regularly hits 10 to 12 hours a day. Great.

Within a couple of days, we had drawn up a draft five-year plan. That plan is below, but I've also added for download in my Google Drive.

We went to A Place in the Sun Live in Manchester earlier in 2026. It was good. Useful. Also a bit of a blur. Too many talks, too many options, too many people telling you slightly different things.

We came away with more questions than answers, but probably a little more eager to look into it properly.

The A Place in the Sun guides have been a massive help too. They don’t make the move look effortless, which I actually like. They make it clear that Spain is still possible after Brexit, but there is paperwork, planning, tax, healthcare, visas, and a fair bit of patience involved.

That feels more useful than pretending it is all sun loungers and cheap wine.

Spain stayed on our radar. It’s familiar, it’s proven, and there’s a big expat community, which makes the whole thing feel less like jumping off a cliff.

But at the same time, neither my wife nor I want to just recreate the UK in warmer weather. We want a mix. A bit of familiarity, yes, but also the language, the culture, and the everyday differences. We would like to become more integrated into Spanish life.

The loose idea is simple. Rent first. See how it actually feels when it’s not a holiday. No pressure, no big commitments straight away.

I personally think I’d get bored just sat in a Spanish home watching the sun rise and set every day, so maybe we need something that keeps us busy and generates a small income.

Something flexible. Copywriting makes sense for us. It fits around life rather than the other way round, and we’ve done it before as a small business.

We’re not rushing into this. Five years feels about right for us. Long enough to do it properly, not just react to a feeling. Long enough to get plans, figures, and ideas properly into motion.

What follows is the plan as it stands. It will change over time as we get things sorted.

I have also started putting together a simple downloadable five-year moving plan checklist for anyone else thinking along similar lines. It doesn’t replace proper visa, tax, legal, or property advice, but it gives you a year-by-year framework to scribble on, tick off, and adapt.

Download the generic five-year Spain moving plan checklist

The Shape of the Move

This isn’t planned to be a clean break. Certainly not from the beginning.

We want it to feel like we’re easing ourselves into it.

We’ll rent in Spain first. A couple of months to start with, maybe longer if it feels right. Just to see what everyday life looks like when the novelty wears off a bit.

Back here, the house stays. At least for now.

While we were at A Place in the Sun Live in 2026, we spoke to a wealth manager who pointed out that a house in the UK can still drain cash. Yes, it’s an asset, but we would have to pay someone to manage it for us. We would also have repairs and maintenance to pay for, even though virtually everything is brand new, including the roof, doors, windows, bathroom, and kitchen.

He recommended selling and using the cash to live off.

I must admit, the most appealing part for me is keeping it. But the thought of strangers living in it and not keeping it as I would like does bother me.

All that said and done, right now, we are still thinking about renting it out. Keep it as an asset. Keep a bit of security behind us. If it works, great, it helps fund things in Spain. If it doesn’t, we’ve still got options for returning.

Our Perfect Property

  • At least two bedrooms and two bathrooms (need a bath)
  • Good garden space (bonus)
  • Terrace and/or solarium
  • Pool (either private or shared not too bothered)
  • Parking 
  • Size - above average. Something over 85 square metres
  • Aircon and heating, a heat pump would be perfect
  • Open plan living area is OK

Our Perfect Location

  • Somewhere thats busy but not too busy
  • No more than 20 minutes drive from the coast
  • We would like a small ex-pat community, but we also want that traditional Spanish community
  • Need easy access to an airport

The Plan as it Stands

These are my working notes.

2026 - Property and Budget Groundwork

Mortgage paid off in August ... finally. That still feels good to say.

Where might we move to?

We had looked at Salou a couple of times now. We are actually out here now at the H10 Salou Princess, which is why I decided to write this. We like the area, and there is PortAventura World on the doorstep, airport is handly, lots to see and do, which is useful for when family come to stay. But it is perhaps a little too busy, and if we are being honest, as it's very popular, the prices of property do reflect that.

As of May 2026, minimum of 70sq.m, 2 bed, air con, balcony, parking and the use of a pool, you're looking between £145k - 210k.

In the Province of Murcia the prices tend to be between £85k - £470k, yeah a wider range of prices, but lots available in what appears to be more affordable (granted, we need to see what these properties are like!), so ours next trip will be further south, to take a look at the area around Murcia (between Cartagena and Águilas).

From here, it’s about building a proper buffer. Moving costs add up quickly when you start looking at them properly. Deposits, removals, visas, legal costs, translations, insurance, and a bit of breathing space on top.

We did find out that transporting the dog to Spain could cost us £3,000 alone (apparently she'll neeed her own pallet in the hold).

Passports valid for 10 years checked and OK.

We’ll start clearing out the obvious clutter. Nothing dramatic. Just stop holding onto things we don’t need.

I also want a rough handle on finances. Pensions, savings, and how they behave if we’re living somewhere else. Not deep detail yet, just enough to avoid getting caught out.

And we’ll keep an eye on local rental values. If the house is going to work for us as a rental, it needs to stack up financially.

We also need a proper Spain living budget. Not holiday spending. Normal life spending. Food, utilities, healthcare, travel, insurance, dog costs, car costs, eating out, and the boring things that keep life ticking over.

2027 - Health, Legal, and Reality Checks

This is where it starts to feel a bit more serious.

Healthcare is a big one. We need to understand how it works in Spain, what we need in place, and what it actually costs. Private health insurance will need proper research, especially by age, cover level, exclusions, and any waiting periods.

We also need to understand how healthcare changes at State Pension age, including whether an S1 form applies to us later. That one feels important.

Same with tax. I’d rather ask HMRC early than guess and regret it later. We also need proper advice on Spanish tax residency, especially if we keep the UK house and rent it out.

One thing we are already learning is that becoming tax resident isn't always as simple as spending 183 days in Spain. Where your income comes from, where your assets are, and even where your spouse lives can all play a part. Definitely one for proper advice rather than guesswork.

Visa rules will probably change between now and then, so this is more about staying up to date than locking anything in. The non-lucrative visa looks like one possible route, but the digital nomad visa may also be worth looking at if we keep some kind of remote copywriting income going.

We need to check what each visa allows, what it rules out, what income we need to prove, and whether any work has to come from outside Spain.

We also need to understand Spanish wealth tax and inheritance tax. From what we have seen already, these can vary by region, so where we live may matter more than we first thought.

That feels like proper advice territory, not “read a few blogs and hope for the best” territory.

We’ll also start learning Spanish. Slowly. Probably badly at first. But it’s part of it.

And we’ll spend time in Spain outside of peak season. Not the shiny version. The normal version.

2028 - Line up the Move

This is when it starts to feel closer.

We’ll begin speaking to estate agents in Spain and properly looking at rental options.

At the same time, we’ll get a feel for the cost of moving everything over. Or whether it’s even worth it.

We also need to check the driving licence rules, including whether our UK licences need exchanging and what happens if we become Spanish residents.

We’ll need to make sure money moves easily between the UK and Spain. Income, pensions, rental payments, and any savings. It all needs to work without becoming a monthly headache.

We also need to look into Spanish banking, currency transfer fees, and whether our UK banking apps, pensions, and mobile numbers will still work smoothly once we are spending longer periods abroad.

If we end up buying later, we need to understand NIE numbers, Spanish bank accounts, notaries, lawyers, property taxes, and all the official steps that come with buying or registering properly.

We also need to get important documents organised. Birth certificates, marriage certificates, and anything else likely to be needed for visa or residency applications. Some may need translating and apostilling (legally authenticating an official document so that it is recognised as valid in Spain).

We also need to understand Spanish urbanisations if we look at resort-style areas or managed communities. Community fees, rules, shared maintenance, pools, gardens, and any restrictions around rentals could all make a big difference.

This is also when we need to look properly at removals. Since Brexit, taking belongings into Spain is not as simple as just hiring a van and driving over. We’ll need proper quotes, customs advice, inventories, insurance, and a decision on what is worth taking.

And then there is dog transport. The £3,000 figure sounds high, so we need to compare options. Specialist pet transport may be worth it, but we should also understand what can be done ourselves, what paperwork is needed, and what Hela would cope with best.

And this is where the proper clear-out happens.

Hela needs sorting too. Vaccinations, paperwork, travel requirements. All of it.

2029 - Decision Year

This is the one that probably matters most.

We’ll spend a full month in Spain. Not as visitors, just living. Shopping, cooking, getting bored, dealing with normal life.

That should tell us what we need to know.

We’ll also decide what happens with the house. Rent it, or sell it. Right now it’s roughly £175k value and about £1,000 a month rental, but that’s just a guide and needs checking closer to the time.

If we keep it, we’ll need proper numbers. Letting agent fees, maintenance, insurance, tax, empty periods, and the emotional side of someone else living in our home.

Visa applications start here. Residency. Bank accounts. Documents. Translations. Apostilles. All the paperwork that turns an idea into something real.

This is also where we need to get organised with wills and estate planning. UK assets, Spanish assets, inheritance rules, and what happens if one of us dies first. Not cheerful, but necessary.

2030 - Move Year

If it still feels right... we go.

Move into a rental, or something more permanent if it lines up.

Sort the UK house properly so it’s not something we’re worrying about from a distance.

Then comes the official stuff. TIE, padrón, healthcare registration, local paperwork, banking, insurance, and whatever else we have missed along the way.

One thing the guides repeatedly stress is not leaving the paperwork until later. Registration, residency documents, and local administration seem to start almost as soon as you arrive.

And then just settle.

Find a vet for Hela. Register with a doctor. Work out where we actually like going for a coffee. Find the local shops. Meet people. Keep learning Spanish. Start building something that feels normal.

Where My (Our) Head’s At

It still feels a bit strange writing this down. Some days it feels exciting. Other days it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

The thought of leaving family, the kids, and a grandson is difficult. But like I said earlier, we wouldn’t stop any of our family moving away. They are already in different corners of the UK as it is, and we know they wouldn’t stop us.

But we keep coming back to the same thought. We’ve spent years doing what we should do. Working, paying the mortgage, building something stable, bringing up a family, and doing the right stuff.

And all that has been right.

But this feels like something we want to do.

This isn’t locked in. It’s not a perfect plan, and it doesn’t need to be. I’ll keep adding to this as we go, changing bits when reality gets in the way, or when something better comes along.

At the very least, we’ll still have a decluttered home, some brilliant memories, more trips to Spain under our belts, and hopefully a bit more Spanish than we have now.

How’s it Going?

Progress is slow. Very slow.

It’s currently May 2026, and here we are again in Salou. Possibly our last visit here for now, just to see if we generally like the area and to take a look in estate agents’ windows.

Property here is a little more expernsive that other areas we have looks at, we have decided that our next trip is likely to be down in Murcia (between Cartagena and Águilas). 

Still don’t know the ruddy language.

But we do like the area, so it is still on our shortlist.

Next, we’ll probably look at southern Spain, most likely around the Murcia region.

We also have a cruise lined up for November 2026, which takes in Vigo on Spain’s northwest coast, so our next proper Spanish move trip may have to wait until 2027.

Carling Black Label UK Review

So here I am, currently sat in Spain, in the sun, drinking a proper Spanish lager … and my mind has wandered back to a recent beer review I did in the UK.

I’m not sure you can call the return of Carling Black Label to the UK the most anticipated launch of the year … but it’s definitely stirred things up.

Molson Coors have brought it back alongside their standard Carling, and opinion seems split right down the middle. No middle ground. People either shrug at it… or take a swing.

Let’s be honest. Regular Carling at 4% ABV has never been a world-beater. It’s cheap, consistent, and on the right day, usually stood next to a BBQ, it does a job. Crisp, easy, and gone before you’ve really thought about it.

I’ve never exactly been its biggest fan. I had it down at 4 out of 10 at one point. I even preferred the Aldi version, Carters, which tells its own story.

So when Carling Black Label landed at 4.7% ABV, I was curious more than excited.

And to be fair … it is a step up.

It’s got a bit more about it. Slightly maltier. A touch more hop character. The extra strength gives it a fuller mouthfeel, and it doesn’t disappear quite as quickly as the standard version. It feels like it’s trying to be taken a bit more seriously.

Just to be clear, this isn’t the 5.5% South African version, which has a bit of a following. This UK one sits lower and feels more like a tweaked Carling than a full reinvention.

That probably explains the reaction. If you already don’t like Carling, this won’t win you over. But if you’re happy with a no-nonsense lager and just want a bit more body and flavour, this gets closer.

Here’s my full review if you want to see it properly poured and talked through:

Watch the video review

It’s not going to change the beer world. But it’s better than I expected… and that’s probably enough.

Give it a go. You might be pleasantly surprised.

One last thing. You’ll see people saying this is just Madri in a different coat. I’ve done a side-by-side comparison … and it isn’t.

Private London: A Good Read, I Just Expected More

Private London by James Patterson and Mark Pearson is another entry in the ever-growing Private series, and once again the short, punchy chapters keep the pace moving quickly.

I enjoyed the story overall, but this one felt a little uneven compared to the others I’ve read so far.

It actually started very strongly, then seemed to take a bit of a nosedive before a decent plot twist in the middle pulled me back in again.

By around the two-thirds mark I’d pretty much worked out what had happened, which spoiled some of the tension towards the end.

One thing that also stood out was some of the "high-tech" elements in the story. The book is around 14 years old now, and some of the technology that once felt futuristic now feels a little dated.

That said, it’s still a decent, easy-to-read thriller and another solid holiday read. Just not quite as gripping as the other books in the series that I’ve picked up so far.

Score: 7/10

 

Others in the Private series I have read and reviewed:

#1 Private
#2 Private London
#22 Private Dublin

We’re Claiming Compensation for Sun Loungers Now?

Just read this on the BBC News and honestly… I had to comment.

BBC News - German tourist wins payout after losing sun lounger race

A German tourist has won compensation after repeatedly failing to get a sun lounger during a family holiday.

The man reportedly paid £6,211 for an all-inclusive holiday in Spain, but found that other guests were reserving loungers early in the morning, leaving his family without places together around the pool.

A court awarded compensation of £852.89 after ruling that the hotel failed to provide the expected holiday experience.

I honestly think I’ve heard it all now.

Now before anyone jumps in… I do actually understand the frustration. If I’d paid more than £6,000 for a family holiday, I’d probably expect to be able to sit around the pool together too.

But there are a few things in this story that I’d genuinely like to understand.

First of all, did the guests complain to the hotel or tour operator at the time? Surely you have to give somebody the chance to put things right before taking legal action afterwards.

Secondly… were they also not up early trying to get loungers?

Because let’s be honest, nobody discovers "the great sun lounger race" by accident. If you know towels are going down at 7am, chances are you’ve been down there at 7am yourself at least once.

And another thing… were there actually no loungers available at all, or just none together?

Because those are two very different complaints.

Anyone who has stayed at a busy family hotel abroad knows the drill. You either get down early, accept sitting separately, or spend half your holiday glaring at people who have "reserved" loungers with a paperback and a single flip-flop.

I just wonder where this sort of thing ends.

Can people now claim because the lifts broke and they had to use the stairs? Been there, done that.

Or because it rained for two days during a beach holiday? Been there too.

What about exchange rates moving against you while you’re away, so everything suddenly costs more than expected?

Or because the "sea view" involved leaning over the balcony, squinting between two palm trees, and technically spotting a blue line in the distance?

Or because the hotel buffet chips were somehow both undercooked and cold?

Or because the evening entertainment was a man with a keyboard murdering ABBA songs while dressed like a cruise ship magician?

At some point holidays stop being holidays and start becoming consumer disputes with swimming pools attached.

Don’t get me wrong, hotels should absolutely provide what they advertise, and some hotels genuinely do a terrible job managing lounger shortages. But part of me feels that modern holiday culture has become obsessed with compensation.

Sometimes things just go wrong.

Sometimes the pool is busy.

Sometimes you end up three floors up because the lift is broken.

And sometimes somebody called Klaus has put a towel on six loungers before sunrise and vanished until lunchtime.

That’s not a legal case… that’s just being on holiday.

H10 Salou Princess Review

Stayed: 2–9 May 2026
Room type: Half Board, double room with twin beds
Overall score: 8/10

We stayed at the H10 Salou Princess in Salou (Spain) from 2–9 May 2026, in one of their double rooms with twin beds. There were no double bed rooms available for our stay.

From the moment we stepped into the lobby, the hotel had a more grown-up feel to it, which we liked straight away.

This stay also felt a little different for us, as we are starting to look at areas in Spain for retirement. Salou, or the surrounding area, may well end up on our shortlist.

The room was a typical size for this kind of hotel, with a TV, air conditioning, fridge, safe box at €3 per day, free WiFi, and a balcony. The bathroom had a bath with shower over it.

Our room looked out over the front of the hotel onto a busy main road. The road starts to get busy from around 7:30am, and traffic noise is only  slightly noticeable during the day, but we did not think it was too bad at all.

Accommodation

The room was clean and well appointed. It was a typical size for this type of stay, and nothing felt old or worn out.

Everything worked as it should, and the room felt properly maintained throughout our stay.

It would have been nice to have a couple more power sockets. We had three, which was fine, but there were no USB charging points, so bring plug-in USB chargers or a power supply. First world problems, I know.

Pools and facilities

There is one large main pool with a kids pool next to it, and plenty of loungers around the pool area.

The pool was clean, and the lifeguards were attentive. Towels were available from reception for a small refundable deposit.

They also have four Balinese beds, also known as Bali beds. We used them on three of the days we stayed, at €25 per day.

They added a lovely touch of luxury around the pool, and as it was my wife’s birthday, it felt like a nice treat for her too; plus up by the top beds (#3 and #4), it tended to be very quiet.

Food and drink

The more grown-up feel carried through into the dining area. It was well laid out and served buffet-style food, but the whole experience felt calmer and more relaxed.

Breakfast was a typical mix for this kind of European hotel, with both English and Continental options.

There was fresh fruit, sausage, eggs, bacon, beans, mushrooms, yoghurt, pastries, cereals, cold meats, cheese, and a surprisingly good choice of alternative milks, including plant, oat, and almond milk.

Hot drinks and fruit juices were included at breakfast.

Dinner had the usual mix of soup, pasta, salads, fish and meat dishes, fried food, chips and wedges, plus a show cooking area.

Drinks were not included with dinner. We stuck to the 1 litre bottles of filtered water at €2, which was enough for the two of us.

This is where the different clientele at this hotel showed. Lots of people were drinking water, soft drinks, or wine. It was not families downing pints of cheap Spanish lager.

Sweet treats were always available, including ice cream, small cakes, puddings, and fresh fruit.

As a vegetarian, I did find the choice a bit limited. There was always something to eat, but it was not always especially interesting. Salads and pasta are fine, but over a longer stay it would become repetitive.

Surely it cannot be too difficult to put on a couple of proper vegetarian dishes, such as curry, lasagne (strangely a day after putting this review live, a lovely vegetarian lasagne was available!), or something similar.

My carnivore wife liked the food and the surroundings so much that we ended up going Full Board for the last four days.

BTW, if you want to upgrade from Half Board to Full Board, do it officially at Reception rather than paying for the extra lunches in the restaurant, it was a much cheaper way to do it).

Because the dining experience felt more formal, there were no overloaded plates and very little waste to be seen. Overall, it was a decent dining experience, apart from the lack of vegetarian options.

Busy times for the restaurant:

Breakfast busiest after 9:30
Lunch wasn't particularly busy at all
Dinner busiest after 20:30

Staff and service

As you would expect in a good hotel today, the staff were friendly and helpful throughout our stay.

In the restaurant, the waiting staff were attentive, and we were always seated very quickly. Plates were cleared fast, and the service felt well organised.

Atmosphere

The atmosphere was quiet and chilled.

It seemed to attract a slightly older clientele, which gave the hotel a more relaxed and informal feel. That suited us perfectly.

Other facilities

I think the hotel wristbands are new for 2026. They act as your room key, but you can also add money to them and use them for payment around the hotel.

The hotel seemed to have live entertainment most nights, including local bands and tribute acts.

The Legends Sports Bar reminded me of a mix between an old, dark English pub and an Irish pub. It was cosy, with dark beers and Spanish beers available.

If it is still on, the Bock Damm Negra Munich is a gorgeous beer. Voll-Damm is also a lovely beer.

There was also a small café by the pool for quick bites, opening from 12:30. It served things like chips, hot dogs, pizza, soft drinks, and alcoholic drinks.

There is apparently a sauna and gym in the hotel, but we did not use them.

Top tip: when we were there, the top terrace, past the first two Bali beds and up the steps, was nice and quiet.

The Verdict

H10 Salou Princess is a clean, friendly, and well-located hotel with a slightly older clientele and a relaxed feel.

It felt more grown-up than some of the family-heavy hotels in Salou, and that made a big difference to the stay.

The room was clean, the staff were excellent, the pool area was pleasant, and the food was good overall.

The main downside for me was the limited vegetarian choice. It was not terrible, but it could be much better with just a bit more thought.

Overall, this was a really enjoyable stay, and it is definitely somewhere we would consider returning to.

Scores

Accommodation: 8/10
Location: 9/10
Food and drink: 7/10
Staff: 9/10
Atmosphere: 8/10

Overall score: 8/10

A clean, friendly, well-located hotel with a more grown-up feel. Relaxed, informal, and a very good base for a stay in Salou.

A Move to Spain!

We are actually considering a move to Spain, follow our journey here.