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Published: January 2nd 2022
Dear All
Greetings in this, my third and final entry on my lovely little break on the Isle of Man. I shall relate my adventures on my third full day on the island, along with the day of my journey home. There is lots more to tell, and I visited even more of the island on my last two days.
After another good night’s sleep in the annex, I walked again, this time only 20 minutes to a small village called The Hope, whereby I timed my arrival with another fairly rare bus that comes off the main Douglas-Peel road and picks up little people like me in the middle of the countryside once in a while. It was another 30-minute or so trip back into Douglas again, and upon arrival I decided to explore the shopping area of the city along Strand Street, which I had missed on my explorations of the island’s capital two days earlier. Having firstly arrived at the town’s main Christmas tree, a party of school children had just shown up to sing Christmas carols – yay! They started with “Jingle Bell Rock”, and I’m not sure what they continued with as they weren’t
very good to be honest, but hey – it brought a cheery spirit to the Christmas shoppers. It was comforting to see the usual British shops on this separate political entity of an island, and after passing Marks and Spencers, Boots, Waterstones and TK Maxx, I headed back to the town prom again for a walk back to the bus station to take my next bus, this time heading to the north of the island.
Indeed, I took a bus first to the absolutely delightful little coastal town of Laxey, with a significant industrial past and a spectacular setting built up and down a large ravine which the Laxey River had carved out on its way to the sea. The most famous sight in Laxey is the really quite stunning Great Laxey Wheel, nicknamed Lady Isabella after the wife of the island’s governor at the time it was built. At an impressive 22 metres in diameter, it is the world’s largest working water wheel, and was constructed in 1854 at the height of the island’s industrial revolution, which saw the mining town of Laxey boom based on its rich deposits of lead, copper, zinc and silver. The wheel helped
pump water out of the mineshafts, up to 670 metres below the town, and the ore was carried along the great river glen for export at Laxey Harbour, mainly by two very tiny steam trains nicknamed Ant and Bee (I expected the second one to be called Dec…!). Sadly, as with most things on the island out of tourist season, the Laxey Wheel was closed to the public, and the steam trains were hibernating for the winter. I still managed to get a good close-up look at the wheel from the entrance gates though, resisting the temptation to hop over their waist height as I’m sure I would have gotten into trouble for that. Unfortunately also, the local mountain railway which carries tourists up to the island’s highest peak nearby, Snaefell at 621 metres, was closed too. This was a shame I thought, as a fascinating fact about Snaefell is that on a clear day, one can see a total of six different countries from the peak – England, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, Ireland, and of course the Isle of Man – rather remarkable really, surely there can’t be many views in the world that can take in six countries
The Legs of Man Sculpture
Ronaldsway Airport, Isle of Manin one fell swoop! I am not a big fan of climbing mountains myself, so I was content to see its mist shrouded slopes from Laxey Wheel instead.
After the wheel, I headed back into town again to take in the town’s other not-so-famous wheel, the Snaefell Wheel, this one given the nickname of Lady Evelyn, after a lady who supported the Laxey Mines Research Team. This was also impressive, at 15 metres in diameter. I also spent time in the lovely Laxey Woollen Mills, with a shop run by the very gentleman who worked the bicycle-powered loom on the shop floor to make all sorts of clothing items, mainly from the local sheep wool, from the very unusual Loaghtan sheep variety, more on that below. I bought a Loaghtan wool flat cap from the shop, and a Manx Tartan scarf from the tartan shop next door. Yes, the Isle of Man has its very own tartan, which I did not know until my visit. It is a beautiful mix of colours reflecting those seen in the Manx landscape: mainly blue for the sky, but also purple for the heather, yellow for the gorse bushes, green for the hills,
Manx Home
The Hope village and white for the traditional croft houses. I really enjoyed my time in Laxey, the views and setting of the town were amazing, as the houses and buildings simply wound their way up and down the edges of the spectacular gorge.
By around lunchtime, I was ready to move on, and I took the same bus route further north to the island’s northern settlement and second largest town with a population of around 8,000 people, the ramshackle and faded-Victorian-glory seaside resort of Ramsey. I’m not sure I enjoyed my time in Ramsey very much if I’m honest. I didn’t find the local people too friendly or welcoming, although I was intrigued by the dilapidated Victorian prom-side buildings, some of which had been restored, others in a decaying state, and one apparently being used by a group of squatters. I felt the town had a bit of a backward feel to it, and there seemed to be quite a bit of c-word-related fear. Lots of masks being worn outside, and by single drivers of cars, and a couple of people still risking their lives with traffic and walking into the road to give others a two-metre space. The first place
I had found for a lunch spot requested my contact details, even though this was not needed or recommended by government requirements, neither on the island nor in England, so I was not gracing them with my presence or hard-earned cash. Instead I found an amazing, super-friendly little lunch spot, with wonderful food at bargain prices, and a very lovely waitress from London who had travelled on the same bus as me from Douglas. This was certainly the antithesis to the mood of the town, and a very welcome place indeed. I enjoyed an absolutely delicious dish of Manx pork belly with focaccia bread, washed down with a coke.
Suitably rejuvenated, I continued my walk around the town, taking in its famous and massive 685 metre Queen’s Pier, jutting far out into the Irish Sea, though unfortunately not open to visitors due to its dilapidated state. I also walked along the much shorter North Pier, which was open to walkers, for lovely views across the sweeping ten-mile Ramsey Bay as far north as the island’s northernmost point, the Point of Ayre. I then headed inland towards the town’s main tourist attraction, a Victorian house which is supposed to be
Strand Street
Douglas Town Centre caught very much in time back in the Victorian days, the Grove Museum. Again, it was closed due to the off-season, but the bicycle loom worker and shopkeeper back at the Woollen Mills in Laxey reliably informed me that the fields around the museum are home to some of the island’s very famous Loaghtan sheep. I was intrigued. I had just arrived at dusk, and the sheep were at the other side of the field, but I think I was just about able to capture the famed horns of these sheep. The local Manx breed, the Loaghtan sheep, is famous for having four horns! The sheep I was viewing there seemed to have these just about visible, but I think it is the rams which have the impressive huge versions. I did not see a Loaghtan ram during my time on the island, but I did take a photo of a stuffed version back in the Manx museum. I was also unsuccessful in my search for a Manx cat on the island, the native breed famous for having little or no tale. A local lady in Laxey informed me that most domestic cats on the island now have tails, and
Strand Street
Douglas Town Centre Manx cats are rare to find on the island nowadays. Again, I did capture a stuffed version on camera back in the Manx museum though!
A quick look at my bus timetable then informed me that there was a very very rare bus due just outside the museum, heading up into the remote northern villages on the northern tip of the island. Without any hesitation, I hopped on when it came for a sightseeing round-trip tour of the northern villages of Andreas and Bride, without realising until I boarded that it was a school service – arrghhh! The whole double-decker bus was chock-full of schoolchildren on their way home. I had not been on such a school bus I think since when I was in school myself all those 25 years ago…! I felt a little awkward, but also quite pleased that along with the southerly tip the previous day, I was getting to see the northerly tip of the island. I even managed to take a very distant photo of the remote Point of Ayre Lighthouse at the island’s northernmost point. Most of the schoolchildren got off at the first village of Andreas, so it was a little
Motorcyle Shop
Douglas Town Centre more peaceful after that. When the bus arrived back in the bus station in Ramsey, I had five minutes before my next bus was due to take me all the way back directly to St John’s via the island’s north-west coastal route, which I had not yet been along. Perfect timing! The bus which took me around the villages disappeared around the back of the tiny bus station building, and then returned again with the same bus driver on this next bus which would take me onwards again. The Isle of Man sure is a small and cute little place!
By this time the sun had very much set unfortunately, and I wasn’t really able to see much along this north-west route. I could just about tell that the Irish Sea was to my right for most of the journey. Nonetheless, it gave me the feeling that I had pretty much explored every inch of this small island, so it was a satisfying bus journey to take. The 30-minute walk from St John’s back to my accommodation was a little trickier this time, being in complete pitch blackness. The torch on my mobile phone came in handy, as did
TT Shop
Douglas Town Centre the headlights of the odd passing car or two. I did get very spooked by a huge Great Dane dog that jumped out at me once, fortunately its owner had a firm grip on its leash. I was glad that I only did this walk once under the cover of darkness.
So I returned to the annex for my final evening before flying home the next day. Although there were still a couple of further places to explore with the time I had before my return flight, and both places were right nextdoor to the airport, so were very handy and a lovely end to my trip.
On my final morning on the Isle of Man, the very kindly host of my accommodation offered to take me to the airport, after I had asked about booking a taxi the evening before. This was very kind of him indeed, as the airport is around eight miles from Lower Foxdale. I was actually heading to the absolutely delightful little town of Castletown just a mile to the south of the airport, and he took me there, dropping me off at the quaint little harbour in the middle of town. I
Jubilee Clock
Douglas Town Centre had two hours before I was due to check in for my flight, and thought I would walk to the airport from town.
Castletown was actually for centuries the capital of the Isle of Man, until this honour reverted to the town of Douglas in the 1860s. It is thus filled with history, as well as very pretty little alleyways and side streets leading from the town square down to the harbour. It is home to the famous medieval Castle Rushen, an exquisitely perfect-looking castle rising from a hill overlooking the picturesque harbour below, as well as the old parliament building called the Old House of Keys, and a lot of beautiful old buildings around the town square. None of these buildings were of course open given it was out-of-season, but it was a lovely little place to wander around. A local gentleman came up to me in the town square and started a conversation. I thought he was from Liverpool with his accent, but it turned out he was Manx born-and-bred. I came to notice during my time on the island that the islanders speak with an accent which is a curious mix of northern English and posh
Merseyside, with a very very slight hint of scouse. The gentleman recommended a nearby walk along the coast towards a headland called Scarlett Point, as well as a couple of eateries in town. I headed to one of them, called The Garrison, and actually met him again there, but for some reason he didn’t act as if he recognised me, which I thought was a bit odd. The staff there were very friendly though, and were able to look after my backpack for an hour while I explored the town further.
I took the earlier gentleman’s recommendation for a short walk along the coast towards Scarlett Point, and was very impressed with the beauty of the coastline there, sitting on a bench and observing the numerous bird species going about their business in the various rock pools in front of me. I then walked back into town and explored its gorgeous little streets, and nooks and crannies, before returning to The Garrison for a spot of lunch. I was still unable to find a place serving the Manx speciality of grilled kippers, but I wasn't complaining when instead I had asparagus with serrano ham in a Hollandaise sauce, and
a small portion of patatas bravas on the side. It was delicious, and again the service there was so very friendly! I got talking to one of the waiters, who was on the English mainland during the lockdown last year, and sadly spent Christmas alone there as the Isle of Man had quite infamously closed its borders completely for most of 2020. In fact, I must admit, I was a bit nervous about visiting the island, as I remember their drastic anti-c measures and restrictions which completely closed its borders to the outside world. They were said to have ended the c-word on the island at the time, but at what expense to the islanders’ mental health I do wonder. I remember one rather romantic story of an English guy jet-skiing to the Isle of Man to see his girlfriend, but when making landfall he was actually arrested and imprisoned!! I was pleasantly surprised to see a very relaxed attitude towards the situation during my visit, a very balanced and calm government manner over it, and a similarly balanced presentation of the statistics and information on it by the island’s media outlets. These are things the British government and media
could learn a great deal from. I wonder if this is a response borne out of realising that their previous zero-c approach was extreme and created more harm than good.
After a delicious lunch, I realised I had just that little bit more time to visit one more place – Rushen Abbey, around a mile to the north of the airport in the village of Ballasalla. I knew it wasn’t open during the off-season, but since the place holds so much importance as being the religious centre of the island from the 12
th to the 16
th centuries, and the place where the Chronicles of Mann, source of much historical knowledge of the Isle of Man, was written by the Cistercian monks there, I thought I could just about have a quick look-see before my flight. A bus had just arrived in Castletown to take me there, but upon arrival I could only gain a very small glimpse of the abbey from between two fence posts at the back. The rest of the place was completely fenced off from even being seen from the outside unfortunately. I was a little disappointed, but at least I tried, and I was able
to take a photo through the gap in the fence. I then walked the mile-or-so from Ballasalla to the airport, and for the second time in my travelling life, after Guernsey, I arrived at an airport on foot!
There was still one last sight for me to see though, even at the airport, and this is its famous sculpture of the Three Legs of Man symbol of the island. The island is absolutely full of this symbol, everywhere you look, and it certainly is famous for it in England. I remember my gymnastics coach as a child telling me when I'd not kept my legs straight in a move, "that was like something from the Isle of Man!". The symbol's origins are unknown, but I like very much what it represents: in Latin, "Quocunque Jeceris Stabit", or, "Whithersoever you throw it, it will stand". This seems to signify the desire for the Manx people to remain strong no matter the circumstances they find themselves in, and can certainly be learned and applied to anyone's life. The airport sculpture of the "triskelion" was an interesting 3D version of it.
Before I sign off, I just have to get off
my chest the awful experience I had at the Isle of Man airport. Looking at the airport’s reviews, I am certainly not the only person with such an experience, and it seems it happens more to non-islanders rather than islanders. It happened going through security. My backpack was selected to be searched, and was pretty much completely emptied, including my medicine bag full of all my various medicines I take when I travel, so that all my belongings were spread around three large security trays. I was really fuming, and it took me ten minutes to re-pack everything. I have been through a lot of airports in my life, but I have never had such an intrusive and invasive inspection as that, not even in notorious places such as Mexico, Peru, Tokyo or Newark International. This is the Isle of Man for goodness sake, not some drug-smuggling capital of Latin America or something – talk about little-man-syndrome!! I decided I was going to make a complaint, and requested the lady’s name who rummaged through my belongings. She refused to give it to me, I’ve never had that before. Instead, she called over another lady, who in turn called over her
Cloud-Covered Snaefell
The Isle of Man's highest mountain, at 621 metres high supervisor. I explained my feelings on the situation and that I would like to make a complaint. The gentleman was completely intimidating and aggressive, and spoke right in my face around 40 cm away. I felt uncomfortable and turned away to continue packing my things, to which he told me to turn back to him as he hadn’t finished speaking yet!! I was worried the situation was going to escalate, so I did so, and calmly said at the end that I have taken his name and will make a written complaint when I return home. I have since done so to the airport administration, and if I don’t hear back from them, will take it further to the tourist board and beyond if I need to. What a shame that such a lovely visit to such a lovely island ended in such a way, and again judging by the reviews, it seems I’m not the only person who sees the Isle of Man airport security staff as jumped-up little backwater wannabes.
Well, at least after this, everyone else on my journey home was super-polite and lovely, and the flight was practically bump-free, the take-off and landing as smooth
as can be. I arrived in my lovely home around an hour after landing at Gatwick Airport, and enjoyed a few days at home before spending Christmas with my family in Sheffield.
I had a really wonderful time on the Isle of Man. I did not realise how packed it was with history, culture, mystery and legend, and thoroughly enjoyed exploring every part of the island. I have returned with a new-found confidence in continuing to travel abroad throughout the year ahead. As mentioned, I have a trip to Ireland booked for February, and Boston and New England for April. I am excited, and hopefully will be writing plenty more travel blog entries to come.
Thank you for reading, and wishing everyone all the best, and a Happy New Year 2022!! 😊
Alex
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Well done!
You managed to see every nook and cranny of the Isle of Man. It is a great location. I bought a pair of running man earrings while we were there. I'm so sorry to hear of the awful treatment you received at the airport. I do hope you hear back from them. I would notify the tourist board also. Great idea. So sad really. A few can spoil things.