Isle of Man 2015

With a little delay, we left home at 9:18 a.m. Our destination this year is again the Isle of Man, this time during the Tourist Trophy. Since our elder daughter will be starting school in the autumn, from then on we are tied to the holidays. The Manx Grand Prix at the end of the summer holidays should still be possible, but the Tourist Trophy is almost always outside the school holidays. So: now or never!

We make good progress; only the opposite carriageway is blocked twice, and by around 4 p.m. we are at the Tango petrol station in Europoort, Rotterdam. The diesel there is not quite as expensive as elsewhere in Holland and certainly not as expensive as in Great Britain, so we fill the van again.

Since it is already raining cats and dogs, we decide against the paddling pool at the ferry terminal and line up early for check-in. At the little hut we see Eugen and his son Dennis. We had already met Eugen on the Isle of Man in 2007. What follows is an almost endless wait in line 3. Boarding a ship is tiring, especially with small children.

Just before six, it is finally time and we are allowed onto the ferry, the “Pride of Rotterdam”. We look out of the porthole of our cabin for a moment and then everyone is hungry. Fortunately, this time we have booked the evening meal. The buffet is easy to find and we stuff ourselves. The salmon is excellent, the chicken too; the vegetarian lasagne will be tried on the way back, but there is also ice cream and chocolate cake.

Now it is time for the kids’ play area. After that we briefly look at the shopping offer and decide it is too expensive. Kik’s second hand only moves every five seconds. Oh dear! At reception we get the usual colouring books with wax crayons and stickers before heading back to the cabin.

We shower, not because we have to, but because we can! Around 8:30 p.m. the crossing begins. The water is green, like Wulfi’s face. Later, measures are taken so that the sumptuous meal does not show quite so much on the figure. 🤢

We are in bed around 10 p.m. Around 1 a.m. the sea becomes calmer, the annoying rattling of one of the beds can be fixed and the nausea also fades.

We wake up at around 6 a.m. and land is in sight. At 7 a.m. the friendly Dutchwoman says it is already 6 o’clock again. Welcome to Britain! We finish the last biscuits, apples, carrots and a few cereal bars. At 7 a.m. British time, the ferry docks in Kingston upon Hull.

The girls skip around a bit more and shortly before 8 a.m. we are allowed down onto Car Deck 7 to our van. A few English people have lost their patience and make everyone wait. After passport control, we then cross England. This time we take a slightly different route than in 2012, via Goole, Knottingley, Wetherby, Harrogate, Skipton and Lancaster to Heysham, where we arrive well on time at 12:40 p.m.

On the way we make the first forced stop in Harrogate 🤢. Shortly before Lancaster there is a second one 🤢🤢. Luckily, since our holiday in the Bavarian Forest, we are well prepared for this.

In a small village along the route we buy “Stugeron 15” against seasickness or travel sickness, without yet realising that this was a great decision.

In Heysham it is raining again. The waiting feels endless. Around 1:30 p.m. we board. It is already quite full, but there is not much going on in the junior area and there is another “watch” in front of it, so that only families with children actually get a place there. We get almost the same table as in 2012. Then the ferry slowly fills up.

At some point the captain announces something about “8 p.m. arrival”. What? Wasn’t 5:45 p.m. planned? We are a little shocked. The storm is probably so strong that we have to take a detour along the Welsh coast. In between, another announcement comes: anyone who had planned to camp today is told that there will be heavy rain. The Salvation Army distributes hot tea, and islanders have also offered to shelter campers. That is quite nice. The sickness tablets help, fortunately.

We buy the TT programme first. The girls are getting bored and since supper is moving far into the distance, we treat ourselves to chips. We chat a bit with Eugen and Dennis. The guys from Gruseleck are there too.

At around half past five we get another bit of fun: the waves are impressive and crash right up to the windows. The effect of the tablets is slowly wearing off. The captain announces a course change and asks everyone to stay seated. But Kik has to get up a few times to take away the full bags. The girls bring up everything they had eaten earlier: chips, biscuits, cereal bars, …

Now the island can finally come into view! At around 6:20 p.m. the captain speaks again. We are likely to be there in about an hour, but “unfortunately” the weather is so bad that we will not dock until around 10:30 p.m., and only then will we be able to get off. What? Madness is spreading. We give up all hope and let the rest of the day come to us. We are cold and the provisions we brought for a three-hour ferry journey are gradually running out.

Shortly before 7 p.m. the whole situation changes: the captain wants to give it another try. Hooray! The whole ship is in ecstasy, especially because the stabilisers are switched off. A little boy panics and cannot stop screaming.

At around 8 p.m. we unexpectedly pass along the promenade in Douglas and are pleased that the sky clears and the sun comes out. We abandon plan B of seeking shelter at Dave’s in the Glen Mona pub and drive straight to the campsite.

When we arrive there it is still a bit wet, but it does not look as if it will rain again today. There is also still enough space on the upper terrace at a decent distance from the fire. Since the girls slept through the arrival at the Dhoon Glen, we take advantage of this and quickly pitch the three tents. First the new supply tent, then our big one, then Wulfi’s. At some point Eugen and his son also arrive. He had to sort something out on board because his moped had been damaged. There is just enough space next to us for their two tents. The girls wake up and are in a bad mood. We hurry with the air mattresses and sleeping bags. At some point everything important is set up; the rest will have to wait until tomorrow. The girls fall asleep quickly, and we make a pasta pot in the hut. After that there is beer by the campfire. Heiner comes by and prepares his legendary Carling Bombs in advance.

We have a full moon and it is cold, but beautiful. Between 11 p.m. and midnight we are so tired and exhausted that we strike the sails.

At around 6 a.m. Helen wakes up and decides that then everyone must surely be awake. The night was quiet and warm for everyone. We slept very well. We fetch the remaining things from the van and have breakfast first.

The hut is used outside the TT by a Harley club from Peel (Moddey-Dhoo), so it is fairly well equipped. We therefore have breakfast inside at the big table on the snacks we brought and think about what we have forgotten in the fridge back home.

At some point we drive down to Douglas and park at the ferry port. In the information centre we collect a whole pile of flyers.

After picking up reading material for the rest of the holiday, we drive back along the promenade and look for a parking space. We find one fairly far back, but a little walk will not hurt. We pass the Villa Marina, take a brief look at how nice the T-shirts are this year and then buy some souvenirs in the pedestrian zone. Then the girls insist on a biscuit. We sit down on the playground by the promenade and are disappointed that the floral display for the TT is only 3% as beautiful as it is for the Manx Grand Prix. Spring was cold and the plants are only just beginning to poke their heads out of the ground.

After that we walk back to the van, much of the way along the beach, where stones and shells are collected.

Now it is time to go and greet the fairies at Fairy Bridge. After managing not to be run over, we look around and take a few photos, then decide to visit Murray’s Motorcycle Museum as well, since we are practically right there anyway.

Since the first time we visited his new museum, Peter Murray has expanded it further. There is now a porch and entry has to be paid again, but in return you get stickers and magnets. Downstairs everything is a little fuller with pictures; otherwise not much has changed. Upstairs you can now go left or right, and there is Ralph, the apparently 85-year-old, offering tea or coffee. The new museum has become very nice, although we miss the old one in the hills a little. Now there is one fewer reason to drive out to the bungalow just like that.

So two teas for the girls, boiling-hot coffee for the driver and Capri-Sonne for the small dwarfs. When our little one lost interest in her biscuits without a “c”, she simply went downstairs and sat down again on one of the two children’s mopeds at the entrance. Since there was not much going on, one of the helpers spontaneously pushed her around the field for a little while. Her cool red-and-black motorcycle jacket may have helped too.

Peter then gives her one of the triangular white keyrings and attaches it to her jacket at once. When the older girl receives one too, she even says “thank you” almost by herself. Kik fetches one of the SR photos from Point of Ayre from 2005 and the nice helper immediately finds a good spot for us up by Ralph’s chat corner. We are curious to see if it will still be hanging there next time.

On Manx Radio we hear how the crew of the Ben-My-Chree is praised for their bravery the day before. We think we deserve some praise too, because we travelled with them.

Back at the campsite, a can of beer needs to be drunk as quickly as possible because it leaked during the drive and has slowly spread in the van. First we cook pasta on our new gas stove, which we won at the SR meeting in Biblisheim, and sauce on the Trangia. What luxury. We eat at the Ikea table in front of the tent. The weather was good today, a bit cold, but only a few small showers.

At the Gruselseck, a cross for Michael is now in place for the TT and the MGP (thanks to Rudi from the IOM Forum). Outside the races it is being set up in the arboretum next door, where a bench for him also stands.

We have brought beer and the guys produce a few bags of chips. When a fire engine comes by and has to stop at the corner, one of the firefighters gets out and asks whether our children would like to sit in it. Of course they do.

When Eugen and Dennis drive back to the campsite, we go too. Heiner and Markus had already lit the fire there earlier, which was a good thing. The English people who have arrived again eventually build themselves a cosy corner with their Hollywood swing and a white tarpaulin.

Since it is still cool and the drive is still in our bones, we do not go to bed too late tonight either. Our sense of time is anyway in disarray because in June it stays light here much longer than at home.