Tuesday 21st September 2021

I got a lift to the second pick-up point at Jockey Road from my kindly neighbour so, I was well on time. Some members were already there and some who had switched to the second pick-up point started to arrive. There was greeting and cheery conversation while waiting for the coach to arrive. Inevitably necks were craned to spot the coach in the distance. Then it arrived. While Paul loaded the baggage, we climbed aboard to be greeted by those already seated having been collected from pick-up point number one. After a brief pronouncement from Paul about safety on the coach and that it was our responsibility to use the seat belts, we were off heading towards M6 which will take us to Heysham to catch the 14:15 Isle of Man Ferry to Douglas the Capital and important port of Isle of Man.

En-route we are to stop at Barton Grange Garden Centre, which turned out to be more than a Garden Centre for it was like a veritable Aladdin’s cave, rather a maze of high ceiling halls decorated from floor to the ceiling with autumnal colours and full of attractive displays not just about gardening. It was midday and the tummies were rumbling so our priority was to find food – at least for me-for dinner tonight in Isle of Man would be late. There was no shortage of food counters which had been strategically placed to entice us as we sauntered through the meandering Halls. There was buffet counter for snacks like scones and cream tea, cakes, muffins; there was counter for hot food and even ice-cream and the all-important tea & coffee. I collected my tray of food and headed towards the seating area, waved and gestured by folks already seated to ‘… come and join us… ‘No time to linger and do some shopping so in twos and threes we got to our coach. A quick count – all present & able – to the relief of the organisers and then we were off.

We arrived at port of Heysham close to one in the afternoon. Paul went to talk with the port authority while we sat in the coach. I was staring at the rather austere and functional area with massive containers, bollards marking the lanes for vehicles to drive and cars waiting to get on the ferry. Paul returned and the coach was then driven through these marked lanes to the assigned parking spot. We waited while cars were driven onto the ferry first and then it was our turn. For me it was thrilling to see Paul drive onto the tunnelled ramp to the ferry with very little clearance between the coach and the ramp walls on either side. He did it with precision. We then left the coach and climbed steps to deck 7 or was it 6 and found seats to make ourselves comfortable for it is a 70-mile crossing which will take about 3 hours approximately – so I picked up the information in conversation. We left the port about 20 minutes late and only noticed that we were on the move by having had a peep at the window. The deck soon filled up with other passengers and very quickly all seats were taken especially the ones near the windows. I had good company seated with Syd and Valerie Peace through the crossing supping our hot beverages. The café counter on this deck was doing a roaring business. There was a constant flow of passengers opting for hot food, snacks and of course drinks. It was fascinating to observe the passenger behaviour, all very decent wrapped in their own worlds. The crossing was calm and the only sensation of movement, for those not sitting by the windows was the continual shudder one felt and heard from the floor of the deck. Some of the braver Probus members, armed with cameras found their way to the open deck suitably wrapped to face the cold breeze and spray. Full of praise they were, on their return to the enclosed deck as to how bracing the visit was. There was this small souvenir shop on the deck which I visited just for a change and promptly ended by buying stuff ostensibly for the grand-daughters – I should have stayed seated! We were, I guess half way through the crossing when I started to feel a bit peckish so decided to join the queue at the café for a cake and tea. Having enjoyed the cake we all three of us couldn’t resist the smell of chips wafting around the deck so, chips it was all round, which we thoroughly enjoyed. It was getting closer to 6 pm so we had not long to go now. I could discern through misted windows dock-type structures passing by and soon we were docked in the port of Douglas. The announcements over the ferry’s sound system asked us to go to our coach. We found the right flight of steps to take and were soon seated on the coach. We had to wait for first the cars to disembark before the coach is able to do a three-point turn to face the exit. I saw some folks on the other side of the coach stretching their necks to see ‘something’ outside. This made me very curious and then on my side I saw the reason for all that curiosity. It was the wonderful sight of about 10 soft-top Stags leaving the ferry. What a treat for those interested in old vintage cares. It was our turn next to leave the ferry which was dextrously executed by Paul.

Off the ferry the sight that greeted me from inside the coach was the ordinary buildings one could expect in the immediate vicinity of the ferry docks. It was past 6 in the evening and the sun was low in the horizon, still bright in the slightly clouded sky. As the coach hit the main roads to take us to Ramsey the scenery changed to breath-taking hills and valleys bathed in the evening sunshine. It was a feast for the eyes meandering our way through the hills. Cameras were clicking as everyone tried to capture the setting sun glorious from behind the hills with a dazzling white light lining the edge of the hill and the dark cloud above. It really was beautiful and a surprise that Isle of Man landscape was so hilly. It reminded me of Lake District in England and yet different. Paul pointed out that the roads we were travelling on are the very roads used for the famous motor cycle TT races. During the following days I discovered that a single lap for TT race is 37.5 miles and they can clock more than 100mph on the motorcycles.  We passed through the built-in area of Douglas and I could see the touch of wealth in the distinct quality and size of some of the residential properties. At one stage I thought there were quite a lot of bungalows but then realised that the houses were nestling on the hills with the roof tops being almost in line with the road giving the impression of bungalows. All was quiet in the coach for everyone, I guess was somewhat travel fatigued but delighted, I am sure and looking forward to reaching the hotel. As Paul manoeuvred the coach through tight turns in Ramsey and parked in front of the hotel I could see the open green field in front of the hotel, the sea and the beech behind a promenade. The organisers couldn’t have chosen a better location. The Ramsey Park Hotel was new, smart and didn’t disappoint me at the first glimpse. We were met by Rachael who quickly took charge gave us our card keys and room numbers leaving us to find them. The cases will arrive outside our respective rooms later. We were supposed to be at dinner for 19:30 hours but we had arrived late so it was okay that the dinner would now be later at 19:45. A quick visit to our rooms to freshen up and then to the dining room for a well needed dinner. We were not kept waiting and I thoroughly enjoyed the three good courses followed by tea or coffee and of course the conversation, the banter, the laughter all made it a pleasant ending of a long day.  I excused myself with a cheery’ good-night’ and ‘see you at breakfast in the morning…’ and headed to my room to discover the comfort of the bed and the warmth of the duvet’