Thursday 23rd September 2021

After breakfast we left the hotel at 8:45 by coach for Douglas to join The Isle of Man Steam Railway at 9:50 am to Port Erin. Our compartments were reserved so no problem getting on the train. This is a narrow-gauge track so the compartments were really compact with upholstered bench seats with a cosy shoulder to shoulder seating for four or five passengers per bench. There were two benches opposite each other. The doors, which could only be opened from the outside had a sash-window which could be raised or lowered using a leather strap attached to the window. A certain amount dexterity and strong arm was needed to raise or lower the window carefully, for there was the risk of getting your fingers trapped if distracted. A really well-maintained old rolling stock. The engine blew a whistle ‘toot-toot’ and we were off. The smell of burning coal and hiss of steam brought out the nostalgia in me. I enjoyed the hour-long train ride for the forgotten smell of steam trains, the clickety-clack of the tracks, the loud conversations over the noise and the sound of whistle took me back to my childhood when I used to travel with my parents on steam trains in India. We had about under two hours to spend discovering Port Erin before leaving by coach for the old Capital of Castletown. It was a windy day but thankfully there was no rain. Most of us formed our groups and went off in different directions to explore Erin. I ventured to the beach with my companions suitably wrapped in wind-cheaters to get some shelter from the brisk cold breeze coming off the sea. By the time we turned around and left the beech I was cold and was looking forward to a café for a bite to eat and some hot tea. A kindly lady pointed us to a nearby café and it was a good one too for we got our sandwiches and cups of tea. Soon it was time to meet our coach – doesn’t time fly when you are enjoying yourself - for we were booked to be at The Old House of Keys and the Old Grammar School in Castletown in the afternoon.

Arriving at Castletown, we all gathered outside the Old Grammar School where we were split into two groups with one group visiting the Grammar School and the other visiting The House of Keys and then we swapped. The group I was in went to the Grammar school first. The lady who showed us around was/had been a teacher, was knowledgeable and pleasant. The School was a single building like a large cottage built of what appeared to be white-washed stones. We went through the narrow door and came into a surprisingly large open room being used for displaying the photos and history of the Grammar School. Leading from this hall was the only classroom with, if I re[ak1] [ak2] member correctly about half a dozen wooden benches and desks in front of a black board and a tall desk for the teacher, I guess. We were told that this was in the beginning, if my memory serves me right, St Mary’s Chapel and was the oldest roofed building. The use of cane (we were shown one) in the class was not inhibited. One snippet of information was that in 1880 women were given right to vote. Another interesting bit of information I picked up (hope it’s true) that ‘Man1’ is the wife and ‘Man2’ is the husband.

The groups then swapped and my group walked a short distance to The Old House of Keys while the other group came over to The Old Grammar School. Visiting The Old House of Keys was an interesting and unusual experience. First thing was that the gentleman in charge was following strict Covid-19 protocol by insisting on sanitising our hands and wearing our masks for we were going to be enclosed in a large elegant room well furnished with long table and comfortable seats in keeping with the status of The Old House of Keys, which was after all the Manx House of Parliament once. We spread out and made ourselves comfortable in the seats around the table. On the left of the table on a raised seating arrangement was a very realistic effigy of a gentleman in a wig much like that of a judge in English courts being the Speaker of the house. The gentleman who ushered us in with a flourish went and stood by the ‘Speaker’ from where he spoke to us. On both the walls in front and behind us were large framed portraits of elegantly attired men from 17th/18th century looking almost out of a costume drama on television.  These were of course portraits of important dignitaries of the Manx Parliament in the past. The guide, who was I am sure, a bit of a thespian gave us an introduction pointing out the various men in the frames on the walls. Then electronic magic happened. The portraits in turn on cue from the guide came alive with lighting and animation and spoke in the colourful Johnsonian language, now with sarcasm, now in disguised derogatory manner in favour of or against a proposal going through the motions on the floor of the Old House of Keys. With the recorded speeches, the portraits were lit-up whichever MP was speaking and kept me riveted. It was as if we were part of the parliament and to add to the drama the guide in a dramatic and with uninhibited histrionics would ask us to participate by raising our hands and shout ‘ay’ or ‘nay’ for a proposal going though. The voice of the speaker would intervene from time to time and there were other crowd noises in the background. And then the pantomime came to an end. It was an immersive experience well dramatized. This show lasted about half hour. We clapped our appreciation to the guide and left by the door we came in remembering to sanitise our hands and keeping our masks on – the reality of the world outside.

Just outside right in the middle of the town centre was a very clean (no ruins were visible) and what appeared to be a new Fortress which has given the town its name of Castletown.  Some of us decided to explore the fortress and it was not a disappointment with many rooms and paths and somewhat precarious stairs to take us to the ramparts. The view from the fort made it worth exploring it.

By the way, while we were in Castletown, there was a parliamentary election in progress.  Saw huddles of people wearing large colourful rosettes in their jacket lapels. To me an interesting coincidence.

The guide book tells me “Castletown was for centuries the capital of the Isle of Man. Its medieval castle, a symbol of strength, power and authority, guardian of the Manx….” “It was in 1860s the status of capital passed to Douglas under the governorship of Scotsman Henry Loch.” On to the coach and the long journey to Ramsey and to our hotel.

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