Tuesday 12^th April

We drove to Laxey after saying good byes at the B and B. We like Port Erin and the stay had been relaxing. This morning should have been 6 miles of more steep hills, labelled, “ Not for the feint hearted!” but the cold, grey and wet weather wasn’t inspiring us and we just walked some of the heritage trail up to and around the wheel.

We parked in an empty (no surprise) car park by the beach. This area was used for the “jack store”. Black Jack was another name for zinc ore.

 The 3 to 4 hundred year old bridge that crossed the river had been washed away in the autumn and there was a lot of work going on here. A bridge made from scaffolding now connects the 2 sides. As we came back from our walk, workers had a large flexible bucket with one trout and several young salmon they had taken out the river as they worked on the old bridge, removing the huge boulders of rubble. This is a very good sign. I had read by the Wheel at the mine that the ore had polluted the waters. The salmon are back.

We visited the Woollen Mills that started life as powered corn mills until acquired by a silk weaver from Clitheroe who followed John Ruskin’s principals, using the motto “ from mountain track to the wearers back”. Steam production was only briefly used in the 1940s and 50s but today it is back to hand production. We watched Manx tartan being woven on a noisy loom. The mill sells souvenirs- perhaps a little pricey, though I am pleased with my sheepskin rug at £35. A rich chocolate brown , we hope it is Manx. It should be judging by the numbers of sheep we have seen on the island.

It costs £5 to visit the world’s biggest water wheel that is the Lady Isabella of 1854. It was used for driving the pump rods to force water out of the mine. It was a lovely walk to this, passing a heron, statuesque by the river. High up a hill is a school. They’d be fit around here! Nearby is yet another impressive waterfall.

 

 

The wheel itself can be climbed. In red, white and black paint it is an impressive site. It was working and it seems such a small amount of water is needed to turn it. We donned hard hats and walked the few steps you can go into the mine, glad of the protection as we bumped our heads on the ceiling.

We decided that we would have time to visit another Glen before going for the boat home. Groudle Glen is near Douglas. There was a car park marked on the map which wasn’t anywhere to be found today. The large hotel had closed and was boarded up though it looked like someone lives in parts.

We walked up and down trying to find an entrance after parking on the road. By the pub was a stone arch which we went through and down the steps. The path is quite steep and there are ferns all over the banks. The Victorians planted many different trees here to enhance the glen as a visitor attraction. It once had a dance floor, bandstand, fortune tellers, stalls and a playground. The narrow gauge railway that extends ¾ mile to the headland is the only attraction left and that wasn’t running today. It runs to “Seal Lion Rocks” station named after seals and polar bears kept in the zoo there in the glen’s heyday.

I prefer the ruins, especially the defunct and rusting water wheel, named Little Isabella, where a fisherman stood precariously with his dog fishing the waters. It would have been interesting to walk to the end of the train track if we had time.

Manannan left from Douglas a little late but without all the drama of the journey here. Apparently it had broken down on Saturday and had to have a tug take it in to port. Our car was one of 4 inspected by customs. None of us looked particularly shifty, in small cars and of retirement age. What criteria do they use to choose who they search?

It was calm on the sea and we had a delicious beef pie for our tea arriving back in Liverpool after 8. We both had better memories of the isle of Man than we did when we took our children in the 1990s. It has become more child centred and we liked the real ale from Man. Also we like that there is a reciprocal thing going between Manx National Trust and the National Trust which made visiting places much cheaper.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Monday 11^th April

 

Today we decided to spend the morning around Ramsey while it rained and then later do the cycle route taking in Peel and St John’s where Tynwald Court is held. This route is marked on the ordinance survey map.

We visited Grove House, Victorian and untouched by the present day, in fact it seemed like the 19^th century owners had just gone out for the day. Ship builder Duncan Gregg from Liverpool bought and developed the original cottage to the much larger house ( though by mainland N. T. properties it is quite small) He was worried about cholera in the summer and sent his wife and daughters away here for healthy holidays. It became their permanent home later after Duncan became the victim of embezzlement. The 2 daughters lived in Grove House all their lives and Janet the longest survivor bequeathed it, intact, in her will to the Manx nation. I like the fact that Duncan used ship flooring and the wallpaper looked original and undamaged by sunlight. Having little money meant the sisters couldn’t afford to change anything.

 Resourceful, they were self- sufficient. Upstairs is a beehive and the guide said he thought the bees had all left but we noticed a few arriving through the tube to the outside. Alice had worked in a munitions factory during the war and there are touching love letters across the years to and from her young man. The sisters were dutifully following their aunt’s request that neither would marry and would look after the house, garden and pony!  Years later, after the first world war, the 2 sisters were quite poor but living as if they had money-keeping up appearances. It is rather sad that they could have sold up and lived a more comfortable life.

We went to Milntown House for a coffee and if the weather was better we would have explored the gardens. I was impressed with their gluten free scone. It was so light and crumbly and with jam and cream, delicious! They were laying the tables for lunch, examining glasses and cutlery with precision as if for gentry but it felt relaxed and friendly.

We decided to find a waterfall which should be good after all the rain we had today. Between Peel and Kirk Michael is one of the highest in the Isle of Man at Glen Mooar. It’s called Spooyt Vane which means white spout and is strictly outside the glen’s boundary but a sign says you can visit it by courtesy of Mr T J Curphey. We parked in a small car park by a cottage and I thought it unlikely but Bob’s navigating skills are well honed. It was a short walk to some rugged steps down to the base of the fall. It was splendid and felt quite isolated.There are remains of a chapel and a priest’s cell. Also 2 stone pillars are all that is left here of a 19^th century railway viaduct.

We drove 15 miles to St. John’s, Tynwald Inn where we had ham, egg and chips in front of a blazing fire that was generous and cheap for the isle of Man. Across the road you could see the steps in grass that form the ceremonial venue for Tynwald Court that’s held here every 5^th July.

We left the car in the car park and left for the 11 miles of very steep hills up and down that made the peel circuit. We hardly saw any cars being on mostly narrow C roads. We had to walk quite a bit today. It was up a hill covered in pine trees and past several farms. Pheasants, rooks, crows and jackdaws were ever present. After 3 and a half miles of climbing and traversing a ford in one of the dips, there was a lone motor cyclist scrambling around a disused mine- a substantial ruin. Just past here we bore right. After a mile and half it was another 2 miles down into Glen Maye village on a narrow winding road. Then it was down the A27 towards Peel.

We managed to buy a drink from a café in Peel but despite it being a weekday it was really quiet everywhere. Large people carriers kept arriving and parking on the double yellow lines and pavement to visit the little supermarket (only one at a time though) which kept us on edge as the tandem was parked on the opposite pavement so we could see it. People didn’t seem to worry about walking in the road, but we didn’t want to cause an accident so we left soon after.

The sea here was very rough today.

We left Peel by Poortown Quarry on our left and after a double bend we turned right into a narrow lane going steeply down to a stone bridge over the river Neb. We passed Tynwald Mills ( hiding some shops) and carried on through tree lined narrow lanes till reaching the junction with the  Douglas to Peel road. Here we were back with Tynwald field on our left and the car in the car park of the pub. As we reached the main road, to cross it, the wind whipped the bike and we struggled to keep upright. The weather had certainly got worse. Even holding the car doors steady for loading the bike was a feat.

We ate at the Bay Hotel and the chef surpassed himself with duck and an orange jus with sweet potato mash. Delicious!

Sunday 10^th april

We didn’t need the car today as we could start from Port Erin amalgamating 2 routes centred around the Port and also Castletown, which would have been 2 separate 21 miles of moderate to easy riding. Instead it made one ride of 21 miles made hard by the weather.

By the time we left it was really cold and the sunshine of early on, tempting us, out had disappeared. We set off past Bradda Head, straight and up, turning right by the houses and into a 24 mile per hour head wind. We seemed to only make 5 miles an hour as we slowly pushed through Colby and Ballabeg. We could hear the steam engine but no glimpse this morning.  

It was more or less a straight road all the way to Rushen Abbey, where we stopped for a break from the wind. There was no café but a drinks dispenser and seats to sit on in reception. We thought this a very child centred place and many of the hands on exhibits were amusing us too, particularly the last electronic game involving reflex action and strawberries. This is a place with a chequered history and in the 1940s strawberry jam was manufactured here as a cottage industry.

An abbey had been here since King Olaf, a Christian Viking gave the land up in the 12^th century. It was given to the Savignac monks from Furness Abbey and later came under Cistercian rule. It would have been the centre of knowledge and literacy for the Isle of Man until the abbey was dissolved in the 16^th century.

In the 1800s it became a school for young ladies after a period of it being a private residence. It was a tourist destination for cream teas and also later a disco venue. It was purchased by Manx National Heritage. Archaeological digs have revealed much of its early history and the pretty grounds are good for family picnics. We could have stayed longer.

We rode on to Castleton, past the airport on the only bit of dual carriageway we’ve noticed. We parked by the old Crosse, which has no cross now. Apparently a mother and son were burnt here for practising witchcraft. The streets are quite narrow and higgledy- piggledy.  A sign advertised a café at the Bowling green but it proved hard to find. Most cafes were shut it being Sunday. There was access at a small car park but we didn’t see it leading anywhere. Later down the main street we found another road which had a sign for the same place leading to a portacabin, that had plenty of customers eating breakfast and us, jacket potatoes.

 

After warming up we visited medieval Castle Rushen. This was a great place. Once the administrative centre and capital of the island from the original limestone keep from the 12^th and 13^th century it was developed in the 14^th century to its present glorious state, fairly intact, solid and lofty. The rooms are mostly empty but there are humorous and interesting touches around. A voice asks who goes there as you enter, a soldier sits on a privy muttering, there is replica food laid out on tables and a fire burns in the kitchen. Guides are there to answer questions. We could see Snaefell from the top of the battlements and a spiral staircase takes you through the floors with rooms to visit as you progress up. We were told the East wind of today is unusual and it howled eerily around the outside, though some rooms were heated from pipes from above. I learnt that in the 17^th century a banquet was the sweet sugared intricate delicacies, befitting Master Chef, that finish the meal and not a feast as I thought.

We left Casteltown via a back road by the swimming pool then passed the A23 junction and then the next left which looked unlikely and more like a farm track. This was lovely, though fairly rough, and took us down to the sea. There was a gull fest at the water’s edge where the sea weed gathered flies. Sandpipers, oystercatchers, shell ducks and mallards all joined in.

Not far from here we had a beer in the Shore pub, thinking maybe we would eat here later. We enjoyed chatting with a man from Colby who went to Manchester University. Although quite elderly he likes to walk 5 or 6 miles a day and then, in his words, spoils it all by having a drink or 2 in a pub.

Bob liked the beer barrel urinals and pump handles for flushing. He took a picture so I could see! We decided the meals were too expensive to come back for and set off through St Mary’s and on to top road back to Port Erin.

Madly we took a bus back to Castletown later in the evening. It cost £3.50 return and the buses didn’t correspond at all to the timetable but then we didn’t have to wait either. There was nothing in the town open for food though except an Italian Restaurant. Bob remembered a pub called the Viking a little way out, near the steam train station and it only turned out to be a 10 minute walk away via harbour bridges. We could see sand bags and boarding to go in front of the doors of houses near the harbour. They had bad floods on the Island in the autumn.

The Viking provided real ale and a roast dinner perhaps not worth the extra it cost for the bus fare but the sky, light till 9 and streaked with purples, orange and slate grey gave a good show and it was nice to just sit and relax on the journey.

 

 

Saturday 9^th April

Today was deemed to be the best weather day of the week so we decided to do the hardest and longest ride of 27 miles centred around Douglas. The sky was a beautiful blue and the sun was blazing.

We drove to a car park above Port Soderick not wishing to start in a busy town.( The official ride starts in Douglas.) It was empty and cars could park for 18 hours free. Next door is a small centre for teaching basic skills to individual motorcyclists and it looked like a really good idea. The teacher was working when we got there and hours later when we arrived back.

What a beautiful spot! We went down the 17% hill to the sea and the port thinking we should be able to go along the coast here. There is a glen and beach but no facilities of any kind except more parking for glen walkers. It was a dead end. We have since learned that the company who bought and developed Land’s End and John o Groats are planning to develop Port Soderick. It is small by comparison and its natural beauty is surely better than some paying attraction. However some nearby toilets might be good idea.

Today we should be climbing 2,700 feet so retracing back up the really steep hill was a bad start. Then we turned right, past the car, and then beside the track for the little steam train up on a bank on our left. An engine passed us as we turned into Marine Drive.

 The sea couldn’t look more inviting and despite the fresh morning temperature coats came off in the sun. The road hugs the cliff side and later is closed to cars because of subsidence. The barriers with their angled gates are fine for solo bikes but Bob had to take the tandem through upright on the back wheel minus the bike carriers.

 

There were power walkers and dog walkers and a few other cyclists on this stretch which was the favourite of the ride today. This must be a great marine animal spotting location. It stretched for about 3 miles with a lot of uphill at first with more down towards Douglas. We came in at South Quay and stopped for a coffee at an ice cream parlour. We would have given it a miss if we had known how long it would take! The ice cream was really popular. We had to avoid tram lines on the main road through the town and then it was a long haul out towards Ramsey. People were boarding the electric train due to leave at 11.40. Our bike wheels are only inches from the tracks with no barriers at all. There is an electric train museum that is open and free on Sundays.

It was past a golf course at Howstrake and past the verdant Groudle Glen, heading out towards Laxey.

We seemed to ride a long way before the train caught us up, just before we had to turn right across the tracks steeply up an almost single track lane, Bibaloe Beg road.

We have been surprised to see more farm animals here than in the C hannel Islands and pheasants seem to be everywhere bar the town. Wild garlic, not smelling yet but just opening out, lines the banks under hedgerow and woodland. Bluebells are coming out but daffodils are still out with the primroses. We notice how few potholes there are here as we walk up a particularly steep bit.

After half a mile we met the main road where we went downhill passing another inviting glen which would have been much nicer to walk with the bike than riding a busy road with busy traffic. We turned right up on to what looked like a fair sized housing and school area where we were heckled by some lads. Surprisingly soon after it became another narrow winding country road.

At the end we turned left onto the main road and we should have gone North of the hospital here but because we wanted to find somewhere to eat Bob took us one road down, south , instead, where he saw a pub marked on the map.

“The cat with no tail” sits in a modern square of small shops. It is surrounded by houses on Governors Hill ,2 miles from Douglas. It is modern with a large screen tv with sky sports, has a Karioke night but serves a good beer, Okells and our lunch of jacket potato was fine. We were surprised to see pictures of church services being held here and it looks to be a real hub of the community.

We must have stayed too long though because when we went back for the bike it was spotting with rain and decidedly colder. As we joined the A6 and then A23 the rain became large flakes of snow. Puddles formed on the bike carriers and melting snow down our necks made us stop to don cape and waterproof trousers. We were really chilled!

After Crosby there was a really long climb which we mostly rode except for the last bit with 2 arrows on the map. At the top is St Runius Chapel and then more up to Garth crossroads where we turned left towards Douglas. A mile further on there was a mini round- about at the Braaid then a climb past the Chibbanah Plantation. Here we were in the clouds and steam was coming off the wood piles. It had stopped snowing and you could see a pale imitation of the sun through the cloud.

We passed a large hotel- leisure complex, Mount Murray. The hotel had a partially burnt out roof and I learnt later that a fire in January 2015 caused its closure with a loss of 30 jobs. What a waste!

Just after this we turned right and down the main road heading out of Douglas, through Newton and then left on the B24, left on the A25 till the Port Soderick sign. By the time we reached the car ( now with 2 others) the sun was out properly again. This ride could have been more cycle friendly if bikes could be taken through the glens. It had been a hard 27 miles!

Back at the Band B after a warm up we decided to not waste the now warm sunshine. We walked to Milners Tower through Bradda Glen along the route that we can see from our bedroom window. It was worth the climb to see the spectacular views- sea from most angles except north. The path was cut in the side of the hill with a fence below to save you falling into the sea. Through a strange metal gate in a high wall we were on Moorish land with mown paths.

 

It was a clamber up to the tower where a photographer with all the trappings-screen and lights- was taking pictures of a girl in a long,  white dress, but no bridegroom was to be seen! She must have been perished as she posed against the tower walls. Her clothes were in a heap nearby and we didn’t like to intrude into their space which meant we couldn’t climb the tower. But then maybe this was just as well as our legs had climbed a lot already today. This part square, part round tower was designed to resemble a key as a thank you to William Milner, a 19^th century Liverpudlian safe maker who was a benefactor of the poor of Port Erin.

People sat eating fish and chips from the town on the picnic tables near the glen. Beyond these is a white building that looked like a closed large café until we noticed there were a few people inside. Recently refurbished it was an opportunity for our evening meal. Though expensive, nearly £17 for my chicken risotto, it was tasty and we welcomed the roast parsnips and green beans that came with it. Maybe miss the farmhouse pie which had little meat in and was augmented by some of my plentiful chicken.

It was around 8 ‘oclock and the sun set was fantastic. We and others stood at the promenade taking photos.

 

Friday 8^th April

 After enjoying views and potential for a good sunset from the bedroom window we slept well till our breakfast. We decided to do one of the 6 devised cycle routes for Isle of Man centred on Ramsey. Because of the terrain and fact that we would stay in Port Erin and not be moving on it seemed better to do these circular tours carrying the bike in the car to the starting points. Without an ordinance survey map it would have been difficult to read the little maps on the pamphlet guide given to us (I used glasses with a magnifying glass and I still couldn’t see the place names!) Also the routes didn’t consider the need for comfort stops but we felt that by doing them we had seen most of the island.

We parked just outside of Ramsey in a layby after a long drive over high moorland and winding roads.

Today was billed as a flat 20 mile ride. We had several steepish hills to climb and Bob said “It’s all relative” but “Help!” is what I say for the days that are marked “difficult”.

We passed many clumps of daffodils and gorse was flowering everywhere. The air was filled with floral scent in the sunshine. At Bride we came to a church and café and we stopped for a coffee because we could. The homemade cakes looked tempting and a wall was dedicated to second hand books to be sold a £1 each.

 The church houses an Adam and Eve stone, of which there are only 6 in Britain, and a Viking cross. They looked to be formed from slate though we didn’t have time to read all about them.  St. Bridget’s church, named after an abbess of Kildare, dates back to 1377, though the present granite building is Victorian. Under the tower were large twigs strewn untidily and looking up we saw the culprits- nest building crows and jackdaws. All across the island we were surprised at how many there were and how few smaller birds we saw- even on bird feeders.

Beyond Bride the road leads to the Point of Ayre and its red and white striped lighthouse. Ayre is Norse for pebbly beach. The road peters out to nothing and we were able to ride, though slowly, on the flat rounded stones right beside the sea.

 

To the left was a desolate area of sand dunes and heath where it was forbidden to ride as an ecologically fragile area. We hardly saw a soul. Later we left the pebbles for the more difficult soft sand path right through the nature reserve. Larks were singing and eider ducks were in the water. Lichen grew over the heather that grew very close to the ground. There were holes begun in the sand by rabbits, then abandoned for better ones that became huge warrens as they dug beneath the sand into soil.

We passed a visitor centre with a viewing platform towards the sea. Basking sharks do feed around the Isle of Man and you need to be high to see them. We decided to press on as it would rain later.

 At Andreas we bought baps at the local post office cum shop. They were lovely and fresh and we ate them outside the school on a bench. A robot or dialek watched over the village from an upstairs window while trees around supported rooks noisily nesting.

5 miles after Andreas we returned to the car. It had only been 21 miles but it had taken over 2 hours not including stops.

Packing the bike in the car we drove to Peel, parking by the Cathedral. It was raining but we wanted to explore the castle which sits on St. Patrick’s Isle. It’s not strictly an island any more since the harbour wall supports the little road across to it which does count as a causeway.

Although we only had half an hour before closing we braved the wind and wet ( there were no places here to shelter) Given free entry with our National Trust cards( it would have been £5 each) we took an audio set and explored the ruins, wishing we had more time to listen to the interesting information. We listened out of order otherwise we would have been ages and locked in with the only way out- scaling the walls.

It was originally a fort built in wood, and known as a “pile” from which Peel is derived, by an 11^th century Viking king, Magnus Barefoot. Digs have revealed its wooden remains.

 In the early 14^th century the walls and towers were built using red sandstone of the area. The tall round tower was part of a Celtic monastery with battlements added later. Although most of the castle is in ruin there is a lot to see. From the castle wall we watched a seal playing in the water amongst some eider ducks as we leant on the lichen and rock plant bespattered stones.

Inside the castle walls is the remains of 13^th century Cathedral, St German. Attempts to save it over the years- in 1392 and then in the 1690s when less than a hundred years later it was deemed unfit for holy service. We learnt when visiting the Victorian Cathedral in the town that a group of people are wanting to restore it. We feel it would be incongruous amongst so much history which seems to be evolving all the time through archaeological digs. The ruins have such charm.

18 steps lead down to the crypt under the cathedral which was used as the bishop’s prison. It is barrel roofed and the only light shed from a loophole 6 inches wide. The prison, last used in 1780, incarcerated offenders against the church’s moral code like the Quakers in the 17^th century. Water drips from the roof and the stone floor slopes but the beauty of the arches above still remain inspiring, even to the unreligious.

After 4, when it closes, we walk around the outside of the walls and the seal was still there despite our closeness to it. It wasn’t weather for views but it was a pleasant walk around the path requiring a bit of care as it was a drop down. Finishing at the beach under the causeway we were amazed at the heaps of large scallop shells, pink, beige and white, that couldn’t have been washed up but must have been dumped by the fishermen, there being so much of one kind. They were banked up against the wall and many were smashed.

 

On the way back to the car park we visited the present day Cathedral which was completed in 1884 and which was built in Early English style but incorporating some of the features from the original within the castle walls. It is a very functional building hosting art exhibitions and other community events. Inside one can follow the cathedral trail or just wander noticing the beautiful stained glass, tapestries and fine silver collection. Major work is going on outside to provide car parking and landscaped gardens. There isn’t much to see of planting yet as it hasn’t been the weather and it is still in progress but there are 2 replica beautifully worked celtic crosses in slate set in front of the building. We like the peaceful friendly feel to this place.

 

 

 

The Isle of Man

Thursday 7^th April

 

We left for Liverpool early as the M62 traffic can be really heavy. The boat was due to leave at 11.15 with checking in closing at 10.30. The high winds we have been experiencing lately seemed to subside as we drove and the sun appeared, which relaxed me somewhat as I had been worrying about the boat and bad weather. Manannan, the catamaran had just been out of service for repairs after hitting the pier at Douglas and had only been back to normal service a few days.

We arrived at 9.30 but decided to go through anyway thinking there would be somewhere to wait with a coffee. We exchanged our computer print- out for boarding cards and then seconds later had given them up and were sitting in a queue on a moving platform, a pontoon, for the boat to come in. The pontoon rocked like a boat on the unusually high spring tide. The wind had increased and the Liverpool Channel was decidedly choppy.

Eventually the boat came in looking good, steadily cutting through the waves. We couldn’t understand why it took so long for the passengers and cars to disembark. They came off in small dribbles. The pontoon was moving more now accompanied by creaks and groans and the dock personnel moved away from the side of the boat as waves sent it into the platform. The last few cars eventually left and the drivers lay on the ground inspecting the chassis for damage after grounding. It was the pontoon moving which was causing the delays not the boat. The captain ordered a tug to push against the pontoon to steady it. The first car in line took absolutely ages to embark waiting for the waves to subside enough. They were being directed by worried staff. I was glad Bob was driving as it was nerve wrecking waiting for our turn. Loading did get faster though as confidence grew and over an hour late we left Liverpool.

Even the very stable bulk of Manannan rocked as strong winds hit it sending spray up the windows in clouds. I was feeling queasy before we got on the boat and was glad of my sea bands. I am sure it is mind over matter but they work for me! We played cards and had a bacon bap as only breakfast was available though it was lunch time. The boat was only quarter full. It was comfortable and clean. We could have gone to one of the 2 cinemas where it seemed people used it as a place to sleep being darker than the main boat.

On the last 4 miles the sea calmed and it was sunny and welcoming in Douglas. It had taken 2 hours and 45 minutes.

It was a half hour drive to Port Erin where we were in a B and B for 5 nights.

 

                                                                   St Michaels Isle

 

We left our bags and after getting our bearings we decided to tick off the tiny St. Michael’s isle or Fort Island, just outside Castletown. Going through a grand stone gateless gateway we pass by a large dilapidated white building belonging to the golf course that spreads down the Langness Peninsula. Over the water of Derbyhaven is the airport- Ronaldsway named after a Viking king who would beach his boats here and drag them across a pathway to Castletown Bay to supply his fortress. Small planes were taking off into the wind.

A narrow causeway, stone-walled, winds out to the small isle where there are several people with children and dogs braving the wind. There is an area designated for parked cars with antislip covering on its slope.

We pass a fort complete with cannons. The round fort was built around 1540 but reconditioned during the Civil war by James, 7^th earl of Derby whose initials can be seen above the entrance. Today it is all rusting and locked up but you can see through the grilled door.

It looks as if someone mows the paths and despite the wind it is a lovely walk. I watch 2 shell ducks and a cormorant. Tiny 12^th century Norse/celtic St. Michael’s chapel sits roofless as it has done for over 300 years and again you can only see inside through a grilled door.

The black slate rocks at the far end show evidence of violent forces as the strata appears absolutely vertical.  The island has an area of 12.70 acres and is only 400 metres long from west to east. We leave back by the isolated golf course building along the walled causeway.

 

 

We wanted to see if we could get to the Calf of Man. Uninhabited except for wild life, it being a nature reserve, we drove to the nearest point at the Sound Café with craft shops just past Craigneash village. Unfortunately the cafe was closed. Admiring the view though showed us how close the island is, but the Sound is fast moving treacherous water and with strong winds predicted for the duration of our stay it looks like we won’t be able to visit. Small fishing boats do go in the summer from Port Erin and St mary’s but we didn’t see any signs for any trips during our stay.

 

We had a hearty hotpot dinner accompanied by Isle of Man beer in the Bay Hotel and it proved to be our favourite of the holiday. One child could eat free with each adult so there was a family feel to the place and the food and drink was especially tasty.

It was a superb view from our B and B window!