If Kafka Had a Pint with Vic Reeves: Welcome to The Hotel Avocado
Imagine being emotionally blackmailed by a talking pigeon while navigating a legal conspiracy, a long-distance relationship and a suspiciously lifelike fibreglass avocado sculpture. If that sounds like your idea of a relaxing beach read, congratulations you’re either Bob Mortimer or have spent too long inhaling bathroom sealant. The Hotel Avocado is the wonderfully bonkers sequel to 2022’s The Satsuma Complex and it somehow manages to be even more peculiar, heartfelt and laugh-out-loud ridiculous.
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Plot Summary: A Love Story Wrapped in Legal Shenanigans and Vegan Sculpture
Our protagonist, Gary Thorn (returning from The Satsuma Complex like a man who took a wrong turn into his own sequel), is back—still awkward, still baffled and still somehow charming. He’s left behind the drab comforts of Peckham to visit his girlfriend Emily in Brighton, where she’s renovating a hotel inherited from her father. But love isn’t easy, especially when you’re being followed by a shadowy villain named Mr. Sequence who wants you to shut up about some workplace corruption thing. You know, normal relationship stuff.
The hotel—named, of course, The Hotel Avocado becomes ground zero for a surreal collision of romance, intrigue and farcical chaos. Add in a nosy neighbour who thinks he’s Colombo, an avocado sculpture that might be a legal liability, and a wisecracking urban pigeon named Alan, and you’re in classic Mortimer territory: part dream logic, part kitchen sink realism, and all entirely daft.
Bob Mortimer’s Voice: Like Being Hugged by a Madman with a Degree in Law
Mortimer’s prose remains as conversational as a pub chat with your favourite uncle who once fell into a canal but still insists it was part of a plan. His tangents—detours into the lives of side characters, imaginary what-ifs, and mental rabbit holes are where the real gold is.
And yet, amidst the surrealism, there’s an emotional core. Gary’s uncertainty, his flailing attempts to hold his life together while everything around him spirals into absurdity, is oddly relatable. He’s basically a British everyman, if the “everyman” were stalked by pigeons and vaguely menaced by vape-addicted bureaucrats.
The Pigeon in the Room
We need to talk about Alan, the aforementioned pigeon. In any other novel, a talking bird would be the kind of device that signals the author is one bad review away from a full psychotic break. Here? It works. Alan is sardonic, world-weary and disturbingly insightful. A bit like a gritty reboot of the pigeon from Animaniacs, if he’d been trapped in Croydon for 15 years.
He’s also a perfect reflection of Gary’s internal monologue: blunt, confused and oddly poetic. If you’ve ever wanted your own sarcastic spirit animal who occasionally craps on things, Alan’s your bird.
Strengths: Bonkers But Brilliant
- Wit: Mortimer writes like a man with no filter and too much imagination. And it works. The humour is warm, weird and sneakily clever.
- Characters: Every single one feels like someone you might meet at a funeral and immediately want to have a pint with.
- Dialogue: You can practically hear Mortimer’s own voice in every exchange, like he’s narrating a bedtime story after three espressos and half a lager.
- Emotion: Beneath the silliness, there’s something real here. Loneliness, ageing, anxiety—he wraps serious themes in bacon and deep-fries them in whimsy.
Weaknesses: For Fans of the Bizarre Only
Let’s be honest: if you didn’t get on with The Satsuma Complex, this book won’t change your mind. It’s more of everything – more meandering digressions, more surreal twists, more characters with names that sound made-up during a pub quiz. For readers seeking tight, plot-driven fiction… go read John Grisham and be at peace.
Final Thoughts: Like a Cup of Tea That Talks Back
The Hotel Avocado is an absolute joy, if you enjoy joy laced with madness and peppered with absurdist commentary on the mundanity of British life. Mortimer’s talent lies in making you laugh, then feel something, then laugh again—usually at yourself for caring.
It’s the literary equivalent of a talking dog in a courtroom drama: completely implausible, but you’ll be grinning all the way through the cross-examination.
The Hotel Avocado
CHOSEN BY WATERSTONES AS ONE OF THEIR BEST CRIME & THRILLER BOOKS OF 2024
'As a comedian, Bob Mortimer spins a shaggy-dog story like nobody else, and this is a rollicking old-school yarn' The Guardian
‘Mortimer’s verbal specificity and off-kilter humour will keep his fans chuckling’ The Times
WARNING - this book includes: heavy crimes, car journeys, dreadfulness, large fruits, romance, planning applications, and a lot of pie.
Gary Thorn is struggling with a big decision. Should he stay in London, wallowing in the safety of his legal job in Peckham and eating pies with his next door neighbour, Grace and her dog Lassoo, or should he move to Brighton, where his girlfriend Emily is about to open The Hotel Avocado? Either way, he’d be letting someone down.
But sinister forces are gathering in a cloud of launderette scented-vape smoke, and the arrival of the mysterious Mr Sequence puts Gary in an even worse predicament: soon he might be dead.
All Gary wants is a happy life. But he also wants to be alive to enjoy it…
THE HILARIOUS AND GRIPPING NEW NOVEL BY NUMBER ONE BESTSELLING AUTHOR BOB MORTIMER
‘Sweet and funny’ Closer
‘A stunning sequel… It’s genuinely difficult to put this book down – you’ll be entranced by Mortimer’s humour and obvious story-telling skills’ Press Association
‘Characters are layered with carefully observed detail and a huge serving of hilarity’ Heat
