ISLE OF MAN

9-13 March 2023

Having spent the better part of a week with the family in Waterford, it was an easy connect to hop to Isle of Man for a weekend.

Christian had flown into Dublin Airport to join me and the family had graciously offered to drive me to Dublin, so we left Waterford at 10am in order to synchronise the meet-up (including a quick stop-in for a brunch snack at the heavenly Avoca Café en route.

It was bittersweet; sad to leave the family behind but pleased to see Chris again and to be embarking on a new adventure.

Despite well-oiled logistics seeing our plan executed perfectly, we were delayed in Dublin by our plane arriving late. 

Surprisingly, even though we only landed in Isle of Man just before 6pm, it was not yet sunset and we were able to get our rental car sorted and hit the road while it was still light.

We had booked to stay in the capital, Douglas, for 3 nights. Since the island is so small, it was easier to unpack and make one hotel our homebase and then explore the length and breadth as satellite trips.

Having downloaded offline Google Maps, we found our accommodation very easily. Arrandale House, a modest and well-priced hotel in the city centre opposite Hutchinson Square park, had easy access to the promenade, shopping streets, as well as the main artery road that would link us to the other towns.

There was snow everywhere, so we kitted up before heading out to explore our new surrounds. Hats, scarves, gloves, jackets… not the usual seaside outfit!

Down to the Promenade which, even in the dim evening light, looked impressive with its long crescent of Victorian facades lining the land side of the blue orb of the natural bay.

It was that witching hour of the evening when you get the best mix of people doing their thing in public places. While there were still some people jogging and cycling (in this weather, gasp!), there were others who had already had a ‘long day’ and were (hopefully) headed home, and others (like us – heading in, bearing in mind this was Friday night and a seaside holiday destination) on a mission to get fed and/or watered.

We walked from one end to the other to get our bearings and earmark things we wanted to see in the light of day, and then headed to the top-rated chippie for a fresh ‘n delicious seafood feast of bacon and garlic scallops to start, with crunchy battered flaky cod and salted vinegary chips as the main event to warm the cockles.

It had been a long day of travels – especially for Chris – and we had Netflix in our hotel room, so we opted for a movie night in so we would be fresh and ready to road trip the next day.

SATURDAY 

One of our criteria for accommodation was an inclusive breakfast package. Being largely stomach-driven, it adds immeasurable admin to have to source breakfast before the day can even start.

The Arrandale did us particularly proud with cereals, yoghurts, fruits and juices self-serve while the hot breakfast you choose off the laminated menu on the table is prepared. A hot bevvie of choice is also served almost immediately. Rare but appreciated, hot chocolate was an option… and served as a whole pot, which is usually a decadence reserved for tea!

With a full day ahead, the Full English was the only smart option. We’d barely had time to neck our starters and first cup of coffee/chocolate (respectively) when the plate of fried deliciousness was served to us.

Ready to take on the world, we packed all our warm gear into the rental car and hit the road, headed north.

Although Chris had prepared me with the knowledge that Isle of Man is 32 miles from north to south and 12 miles across at its widest point, I still had “road trip” in my head, so boy was I surprised when we got to our first stop, Onchan, in six minutes. 

It was so sudden that we didn’t even stop. It really felt like an extension – a suburb – of Douglas, so unlikely to produce any new adventure.

Soldiering on, at a leisurely 40 mph, we were still in the next stop, Laxey, in 20 minutes. 

We parked the car close to the primary landmark: the Great Laxey Wheel. 

Built in 1854 to pump water from the Great Laxey Mine complex, the ‘Lady Isabella’ (as it was fondly dubbed, after the wife of the Governor who commissioned it) is a feat of Victorian engineering. It was constructed as a power source; while the rest of the world was moving to steam power, Isle of Man had no coal so decided to use the abundance of running water as a hydro power source rather than being reliant on importing coal. It is still the largest working water wheel in the world today.

We returned to the car via Ham and Egg Terrace, so-named because the enterprising ladies who lived in this row of terrace houses – the longest under a single roof on all the island back then – served tea and refreshments to the stream of tourists who flooded in from the UK to have their holidays on Isle of Man and came to see Lady Isabella. One of these tea rooms still exists; Brown’s, established in 1906.

Having walked Laxey from end to end, and with nothing open even though it was midday on a Saturday, it was time to move on.

Again a short hop, Ramsey looked a lot more lively. We took a walk along the quayside and what looked like it must be an important bridge at the harbour, when the wind picked up and cut through us with its iciness.

With a sign outside The Commercial Hotel promising Guinness at £4.20 a pint, a short stint in front of the fireplace (and a logging on our Guinness Index) was exactly what the day needed.

The pub was already quite busy, so we occupied ourselves with eavesdropping the colourful conversation being passed between the bar lady and the (clearly regular) patrons that covered all sorts of things ranging from politics to very domestic situationships!

Plucking up the courage to resume our tour, we returned to the car and continued the journey to the north, to Point of Ayre, with its famed lighthouse called ‘The Winkie’.

It was so cold and windy that we did little more than nip out of the car, take some snaps and jump back into the car like we’d escaped an ice age!

It was very rewarding sightseeing, thanks for the super-short travel distances and easy access to points of interest so we felt the levels of achievement for the day warranted an early return to Homebase.

We got back to Douglas just in time. The rain had started to set in and the temperature had plummeted. Since our hotel room had Netflix, we took a couple of hours out to relax and hole in from the inclement weather outside.

Being Saturday night in Douglas, we needed to at least put some effort into trying one or two of the acclaimed pubs on the promenade.

It was a bit hit-and-miss, as we realised there were some pivotal sporting events that had the more popular bars full to bursting. Never shy of an Irish pub, we settled in O’Donnells in the shopping street for a pint while we planned next steps.

Following online recommendations, we tried the Thirsty Pigeon next, where a local called Finney adopted us, having seen my curiosity at the open entertainment section that he had discarded on the communal bar counter in front of him. 

I showed interest in the crossword blockbuster and asked the waitress for a pen; he introduced himself and joined in the game. We spent a couple of hours talking to him about the island while we populated the brainteaser games in the newspaper together. 

It was very definitely past our dinner time and Chris was highly motivated for an Indian meal so we headed back in the direction of home to hit up the curry den we’d earmarked on our way out.

Almost as if Finney had conjured the weather to illustrate the story he’d shared of Life on the Island, it was blowing a gale of cold air from the sea, exacerbating the light rain. Like a novice, I had our holi-brolly out, thinking it would combat the elements. On the contrary, the wind kept catching it and concaving it so forcibly and repeatedly that the poor thing didn’t stand a chance; the spokes buckled and it was soon sent to an undignified final resting place, rammed into Her Majesty’s bin.

A couple a few steps behind us chuckled good-nature fly as they witnessed my surrender. Clearly locals who knew better than to even bother. Tightening my hood and shoving my gloved hands deeper into my pockets, I joined the ranks of Grin and Bear It.

We arrived at a warm and dry Flavours restaurant ready to commit. Unfortunately they were not. “Fully booked”, they said.

Pfft.

Not skipping a beat, we went around the corner to Taste of Bengal. Also fully booked. We should have thought to reserve ahead as soon as we noted the drunken Stag parties and very very drunken Hen do at the Pigeon.

Sticking to theme, we resorted to a kebab instead, having passed one that smelled particularly alluring on our curry-hunt.

Quick, fresh and tasty, we were not disappointed! 

SUNDAY

Mixing things up a bit, I had the kippers – an Isle of Man speciality – for breakfast. Served in place of the sausage and bacon on an otherwise Full English plate, it was a bet well-placed. Yum!

The quest for the day involved crossing the island to Peel, on the West Coast. What may sound like a massive undertaking was in actuality only a 17km journey.

We were soon parked in the Old Market and picking a direction to explore. Drawn by the Castle, we headed quayside. 

On closer inspection, the castle was not open for access so we made do with a walk around the castle wall and imagining what had gone on inside.

We then took a turn through the Cathedral gardens. With the building boasting having occupied its position since the 4th Century, the gardens had been cleverly crafted into a timeline of exhibits of relics commemorating the bishops who had made their mark on it over time. 

Making use of the good weather, we added Port Erin onto our itinerary for the day. Although our origin and destination were both coastal, Google Maps took us on an inland route.

Despite not having fresh snowfall for days, the exposed hilltops combined with the icy winds had preserved the snow and made for a white-knuckle drive over the (fortunately) short distance.

Christian was forced to steer the little rental Noddy car to where mightier vehicles had forged tyre trails, and periodically give way to motorists from the other direction. Fortunately, the drivers in Isle of Man seem to be very unhurried and polite so it wasn’t difficult to negotiate oncoming traffic.

Arriving in Port Erin, we parked the car and struggled to find something to do. Town was shut tight for the weekend, so we did a bit of window shopping along the main street, and then walked along the quay side to the building at the end, which we hoped would be something interesting. It was not.

On the return journey, we did a stop-in at Bushy’s in the Bay Hotel to warm up, and have a swift pint. With the blazing fire, and a good playlist, it made for a very relaxing ‘excursion’.

On the way back to the car, we were horrified to see that there were people swimming in the sea.  Clearly not all locals were that crazy though, since there were friends and onlookers on the beach, dressed pretty much the same as we were with jackets, scarves, hats, gloves… Exactly what you would expect under these conditions. 

As now-seasoned tourists, we cleverly checked the curry house times upfront. We planned our evening around it so as not to be caught short again. 

We had a last few things to see in Douglas, so dropped off the car and hoofed along the promenade to the old town.

Masterfully ticking off the end of the To Do list, we were at Taste of Bengal in time to be their first table for the evening… We smugly worked our way through multiple courses with our bottle of red (from the dingy Off Licence downstairs) as the tables filled up around us. Fool me once, indeed! 

MONDAY 

We awoke to sunshine on our last morning. Well, sort of sunshine. It was bright and not raining.

… Until we were half way through our run on the promenade!

Fortunately we were dressed for it so didn’t get too drenched. And nothing that a hot shower, a pot of hot chocolate and a full English breakfast couldn’t cure.

Ahead of schedule, we enjoyed a leisurely drive down to Castletown. We had a couple of hours to wander around before getting to the airport for our flight to Belfast.

With no particular agenda, we made our way to the main attraction, Castle Rushen, first. The large wooden entrance door was shut tight.

While we were reading the information board and reviewing the open times, the door opened and a man appeared. He told us we were early for opening. And not just a few minutes; the castle was only opening for viewing for the season from 1 April. We were weeks too early!

Seeing our disappointment, he told us he had some business to attend to but to come back in half an hour and he would then let us in to have a quick look. 

It was easy to wile the time away, doing a quick circuit around the old town and reading the monument boards on the various historical landmarks.

We learnt that Castletown was once the ancient capital of the Isle of Man and the House of Keys across the road from the Castle was home to the Manx parliament between the years 1821 to 1874. It was at the centre of 19th-century political life and has been restored to its former appearance of 1866, a milestone in Manx history because the self-elected house took its first steps along the road to modern democracy by becoming a popularly elected Body, in essence forming the first parliament in the world.

Returning to the Castle at 11:30, the door was again shut tight. We pressed the bell, and another man greeted us at the door. He introduced himself as the Pest Control Guy and inviting us in. He directed us to our original host, who was in his office.

We were treated to a full hour of private tour into every nook and cranny of the castle, with commentary along the way as to how the castle had grown and provided service for more than a millennium.

Our host guided us through a couple of dining rooms, decorated to illustrate the very different eras that had enjoyed the space. We saw the Lord’s Chambers, the vault, the banquet hall, and got to see spectacular views from the castle battlements, right at the top of the building, with clear view as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Our host narrated the tour throughout, complimenting the living history exhibits with information about modern Manx, the people, the language, the economy and even his experience of the most recent plight, the Covid pandemic.

Thanking him profusely for his time and being so accommodating, we tackled the final strait to the airport to conclude our weekend.

We had seen and done everything on our list – and a few things that weren’t – and still only done 108km in total!