Friday, 18 August

This year marks the centenary of the Manx Grand Prix. Time to head back to the island. Our usual route via Rotterdam feels too uncertain because the ferry company P&O is currently in financial difficulties. So, as we did a few years ago, we decide to travel via Amsterdam to Newcastle.

Despite a little traffic, we reach the ferry port in good time. Our cabin on the ship turns out to be a lucky find. The window faces forward, directly above the observation deck. Later, you can watch whales and dolphins there with a marine biologist. In theory, anyway—we don't see any.

Saturday, 19 August

The crossing is calm and uneventful. As expected, the alarm goes off at the wrong time because of the time difference, so we wake up far too early. We arrive in Newcastle at 9 a.m. local time, but it takes another 45 minutes before we can actually leave the ferry. Our window to catch the next ferry from Heysham is tight, so every minute counts.

The ride through England goes well, though the weather gets worse. By the time we reach the ferry terminal, it's pouring. We're there on time and are pleased everything has worked out. Just then, the phone rings: the campsite is calling to ask whether we're still coming today. We learn that no ferries have been running since yesterday because of a storm in the Irish Sea. Uh-oh. So we head into the terminal first. Our ferry really has been cancelled. Shock! We ask when the next one might sail. Tomorrow, but it's fully booked. There are still spaces on Friday. It's Saturday, so that's not a great option. After some bewildered back-and-forth, we book the crossing for Friday and hope we can get a last-minute spot on one of the next few days.

Many people cancel their holidays, book a hotel until Friday, or simply spend their holiday in England. A lot of the British passengers just turn around and drive home. We decide to spend the night in the car park and get to the terminal early the next morning to be near the top of the standby list. For the rest of the day, we walk around Heysham a little and enjoy the evening with a glass of red wine and the hum of the neighbouring nuclear power station. There are only two campervans in the car park besides ours.

Sunday, 20 August

The next morning we wake up early and discover that someone is already waiting outside the locked terminal, sitting on a folding chair. Soon our two new motorcycling acquaintances and the driver of the other campervan join them. That makes us only number five on the standby list—and this is hours before the terminal opens. The first person to sit down outside the door is the race mechanic for Michal “Indi” Dokoupil from the Czech Republic; he and his rider are also stuck at the port. Despite the tense ferry situation and rather mediocre weather, we're in great spirits and have plenty of time to chat.

The whole process is nerve-racking. The ferry arrives late, and it takes an age to find out whether there are any spaces and who might be allowed on board. Eventually, we hear, “I will now read the names ...” followed by an attempt to pronounce our surname. The room cheers, but we're not on board yet. We run out to our car, which has been blocked in. In a mild panic, we get out of Line 12 and drive onto the ferry. It turns out that because the Manxman has only been in service for a few days, it is being loaded only to the point where the old ferry, the Ben My Chree, could step in if necessary. That means all the cars get across that day. The motorcyclists, however, have to wait another twelve hours before they can make the crossing overnight.

Monday, 21 August

So we arrive at the campsite a day late and put up our tent. The next morning, we have a leisurely breakfast. Then we head to Douglas to buy T-shirts and visit the Grandstand. There we stop by Indi's mechanics' tent and chat with his mechanic about the beautiful Norton 18. This year, we've decided to take the holiday at a much more relaxed pace and put our feet up now and then. So that's what we do on the beach in Laxey, although the weather is still very stormy. Back at the campsite, we chat with the MZ rider from southern England, who has pitched his tent right next to us. We recognise at least some of the people at the campsite from our last visit.

Tuesday, 22 August

The next day starts with a little rain. Around eleven, the sun comes out and we take a walk through the village, past the Woollen Mills and on to Lady Isabella, the big waterwheel. We meet half the Line 12 crowd there. Admission now costs £13. A few years ago, it was £5. We've been there so many times already, so we skip it this time. Instead, we have something to eat in the pub at the bottom. Afterwards, we enjoy the sunshine on the beach in Laxey and see dolphins for the first time. There's qualifying in the evening, so we head to Ramsey and Parliament Square. You can take good photos in a small side street, and there are only a few other spectators. At some point, the red flag comes out—not a good sign. The racers stop their machines and come straight towards us. The spectators beside us seem to know some of them and immediately offer their phones so the riders can get in touch with their teams. Later, we read that Britain's Ian Bainbridge crashed at Kirk Michael and died.

Wednesday, 23 August

The weather keeps getting better, quite unlike five years ago, when we had practically nothing but rain. There's a classic-car and motorcycle gathering in Laxey today, so we walk over in the morning and have a look at the bikes. Afterwards, we drive back to Ramsey, browse a few junk shops and watch the second qualifying session. The evening sessions are cancelled because of the weather, so we spend the evening chatting with the friendly Scots at the campsite and listening to the stories of the other campers. Most of them are marshals and have been helping out at the races for many years.

Thursday, 24 August

Today there's an event organised by the Moddey Dhoos in Peel. At the castle, we look for shells again, wander back and forth among the motorcycles, eat delicious mint ice cream and enjoy the sunshine. We skip the museum, even though it's always worth a visit, and instead head up to St. German's Cathedral, where there's a lovely garden maze.

After that, we want to see the shipwreck at Jurby. But it's only visible at a really low tide, so we just walk along the beach. The wind is blowing quite hard here. On the way, we meet a curious seal. We can't find the ship, so we decide to head to Ballaugh to watch the races.

Friday, 25 August

Today we drive to Douglas and stroll through the pedestrian zone and along the promenade. Just as we're standing by the new Bee Gees statue, two dolphins swim past the Tower of Refuge. In the evening, we chat for a long time with the British campers.

Saturday, 26 August

So far, there hasn't been much sign of a celebration for the MGP's hundredth anniversary. A Parade Lap is scheduled for today, so we drive to the Grandstand in Douglas. But the Parade Lap consists of only about ten bikes and riders. Disappointing, considering what was on offer for the TT's centenary. We walk through Summerhill Glen, which has been decorated as a fairy wood, to Governor's Bridge and watch for a while. Then we head up towards Marine Drive, where there's a lovely view of Douglas and the harbour. At Marine Drive, we hear a whale and even see it surface, but it doesn't show itself again for a photo.

Sunday, 27 August

Of all days, today is forecast to have drizzle. There's a big ride-out for all motorcyclists, so we take up position at the Creg-Ny-Baa to take photos. There's an accident somewhere in the middle of the group, and the road is closed. So we continue on to Ramsey. There are sprint races there, but it's quiet here too compared with previous years. Then we head to the airfield at Jurby, where there are small races. We park right next to John McGuinness. But it keeps raining, and the day just isn't much fun.

In the evening, we drive to Douglas and watch from the beach as a Spitfire puts on an air show over the sea. On our way back, racing bikes are on display on the promenade, and we have a quick chat with Dave Roper, the only American to win a TT (1984).

Monday, 28 August

Today is the final race day, and we decide to watch the races at the Gooseneck. First, though, we head north to Point of Ayre, where we see quite a lot of seals. We take photos like mad. Unfortunately, one of our memory cards gives up the ghost, so most of the pictures are lost. 😩

Tuesday, 29 August

After yesterday's trip north, we head south for the first time this holiday. Of course, we stop by Peter Murray's and say hello to the fairies at Fairy Bridge, too. On the small peninsula in front of Derbyhaven, we look at the ruins of the little church and the fort. Then we continue via Cregneash and the Chasms to the Sound. On the way back, we stop briefly in Castletown, but it's already too late to go shopping.

Wednesday, 30 August

We'd like to leave a little something at Les's memorial at our “old” campsite. The campsite has since been sold, and there are tents there, but it's only used privately. In beautiful weather, we walk to Dhoon Beach and enjoy the sunshine and the crystal-clear water.

Thursday, 31 August

It's supposed to rain all day. So we go to the swimming pool in Ramsey. By chance, we arrive at just the right time, when swimming is actually allowed. We have something to eat straight away in the pool café.

We also drive to Douglas to do some shopping and try to bring our return crossing forward by half a day, which would make the trip to Newcastle a bit more relaxed. But it doesn't work out; all the ferries are fully booked.

Friday, 1 September

Port Erin is our first destination today. We walk around the town for a while. There used to be a great bookshop here, with some old and interesting books. The shop is still there, but now it carries only the standard range.

Then we head back to Douglas. It's low tide today—the water has receded so far that you can walk (well, almost) to the Tower of Refuge without getting your feet wet. Naturally, we're prepared and have our wellies with us. It takes a while before we can set off. Eventually, you're allowed to wade through a large crowd over slippery rocks and seaweed. You aren't allowed inside the tower; the building wouldn't withstand it. Still, it's a great experience.

Saturday, 2 September

After Ben explains how to read the map references in the Classic Trials programme, we find a great spot to watch. In the afternoon, we start packing our things. After all, tomorrow is our last full day before we set sail again on Monday.

Sunday, 3 September

Now we pack everything up. We won't spend Sunday night at the campsite; instead, we'll sleep in the VW van in a parking bay in Douglas. That saves us the stress of getting to the ferries on Monday, as they set off early in the morning. Since we're in Douglas anyway, we visit the museum, which has been rearranged and expanded. There's now a separate section devoted to the TT.

When it gets dark, we go to Summerhill Glen, which is lit up in a fun way. The beach and promenade are worth seeing at night too. We move the van once more to find the quietest and nicest place to park, and find a great spot. Our last night on the Isle of Man can begin.

Monday, 4 September

The morning treats us to a fantastic sunrise. So we have to take photos before driving to the terminal. We get there early and have to wait a little. Our crossing departs more or less on time at 8:45 a.m. We're due to arrive at 12:30 p.m., although you usually have to wait another 15–30 minutes before you can get off the ferry. Check-in for our ferry in Newcastle closes at 4 p.m. So we have about three hours to cover the 210 kilometres. It could be tight.

We get off the ferry at 12:45 p.m., and the ride along the motorway goes smoothly, with no traffic jams. We arrive in Newcastle at 3:45 p.m., board the ship and settle into our cabin, which unfortunately isn't quite as nice as the one on the outward journey. We have a relaxed meal and try once again to spot whales from the observation deck. No luck again. But we do get a wonderful sunset.

Tuesday, 5 September

We reach Amsterdam right on schedule and can set off on the long drive home around 10 a.m. A good seven hours later, we arrive home, unload the van and put our feet up.