Yes! Two years ago I booked a trip similar to this one, but had to cancel as I was crippled with sciatica (the insurance paid out). Last year the company cancelled due to storms (one of the named storms) in Morecambe Bay. They refunded the money I’d paid.

So I was please to set off confidently to drive to Heysham on Sunday morning April 27th, with the expectation of good weather to come, and looking forward to a break from doing my own catering, shopping, etc. I’d booked a ‘Just Park’ space not far from the ferry terminal, found it easily and it was a £5 taxi ride to the port. The group I was joining was travelling from various pick-up points from Cambridge northwards, and I when I arrived at the terminal, there was no sign of the ‘Just Go!’ coach, nor anyone else waiting for it. In fact I was the only one joining at that point.

After about half an hour someone came into the building calling my name. This turned out to be Paul, our driver. He didn’t seem pleased to have found me and made no attempt to help with my luggage. A gentleman waiting to return home on the ferry jumped in and insisted on taking my case (and guitar) to the bus. Someone, also from the island, had helped me take the the things into the terminal when I first arrived. This set the tone for the Manx friendliness which I would experience again during the next four days.

There followed a long wait on the coach till we had to move – not straight onto the ship, but some distance out of the car and coach park round the lorry and freight area to joing the queue to drive onto the ship. Obviously, having to go to the ‘wrong’ area to pick up one passenger had been a bit – or a lot – of an inconvenience.

However, once on board, the crossing was smooth, though longer than we might have expected – three and a half hours! – and I had a nice lunch of Manx beef pie. Not sure what was ‘Manx’ about it, but it was tasty. There was another long wait to get off the ferry, then a short drive along Douglas’s Promenade to our hotel, the Best Western Palace.

The hotel is below and slightly to the left of the prominent white building with the tower or turret, among the trees. It’s the less tall building, only four floors, darker in colour than the nearby white or cream coloured ones.

Now, last summer, on arrival at the guest house in Devon, I posted a photo taken through the window of my room, suggesting it was a ‘room with a view’. On Sunday last week, I found I had a room with a view of a double grot-spot! (In spite of the hotel’s sea front location!)

OK, luck of the draw, and the view from the hotel restaurant did look out over the sea, though the tide was always out at dinner and breakfast time. Breakfast was excellent, and the food at dinner was good, too, but as far as I can tell, there were no local specialities on offer; and that applied to what I was able to find at lunch times, as well.

Monday, April 28th: We boarded our bus for a day out visiting Ramsay and Peel. Now, on similar tours that I’ve been on (Scotland and Wales) there’s been a tour guide on board as well as the driver. Not this time, and apparently that’s normal with Just Go! I think I didn’t study the info at the time of booking, just made an assumption. Paul, our driver, had to tell us all the information we were going to get, and he only had such details as he’d been ‘fed’, I think. I didn’t find much of interest in Ramsay. Just the harbour where I looked at one or two of the boats and said, as usual, “I think I’ll get one of those …” :

Well –

– Everyone needs one of those!

We moved on to Peel, where, unfortunately, some of the group didn’t hear Paul’s instructions clearly – or they didn’t listen carefully enough. The pick-up point was not the same as the drop-off, but some folk (not me) missed that and and we had to double back round the town to look for them! Pick-up was actually at the far end of the long stretch of sea front from where we were dropped off, which meant more walking than I really wanted to do and, again unfortunately, the pub which seemed to have the best selection of (local) sea food was right at the starting point, but I thought it better to do the walk first so that I would know how much time I had. I ended up with a tasty, but ‘ordinary’, scampi and chips, which I have often enough ‘at home’ and was not the local speciality I was hoping for!

Peel is known for its castle and its sandy beach. The walk was pleasant enough and the heat not too oppressive:

I mentioned the guitar at the top. Without the help of a tour guide it was difficult to organise, but having brought the instrument, I wanted to invite anyone in the group, who wanted to join in, to a singalong after dinner. Paul wasn’t very interested, but he did announce it on the bus before we got off. I’d spoken to the duty manager of the hotel in the morning, and he said it would be fine and there was a room just off the dining room which we could use.

After the excursion, I went to reception again to ask for more details and to be shown the room. A different duty manager was extremely helpful, and said to seek him out when I was ready to start. The man sitting across the aisle from me on the bus, Terry by name, was also very supportive. Just before 9pm we found Jack, the manager, and he took us to the room and Terry set out some of the stacked chairs for me. I asked about a stool that I might sit on – one of the waitresses, lovely Louise, went and ‘pinched’ one from the bar some way away. Not only that, but after about half an hour she brought me a glass of wine, and at the end, she said I didn’t need to pay for it! Other things were a bit awkward; having no precise details about how to find the room when the announcement was made on the bus, some people wanted to come, but said they couldn’t find it, and the staff they approached knew nothing about it! About a dozen did turn up, enjoyed themselves, and joined in enthusiastically. I did about 50 minutes.

Tuesday, 29th April: My Mummy’s birthday! We had to be on the coach a bit earlier this morning for the short drive to the far end of the prom to get on the island’s electric railway, seen here at Laxey, where we got off.

The ride from Douglas to Laxey afforded some pleasant views, but a more rattly, grindy, screechy experience it would be difficult to create! I chose to ride in the enclosed carriage, the locomotive in fact, so here are a few views, taken through the glass of the window:

There was confusion again about rejoining the bus – we hadn’t understood exactly which path we were supposed to follow. Some of us took the road instead, but we all found the right spot. Another short ride took us up closer to the Laxey wheel, perhaps the island’s most iconic landmark. There was still some serious uphill walking to do, and it was getting hotter.

I took the ‘selfie of the week’ :

Then made my way round to the other side. But I did not, as a few of us did, climb any of the stairs up to the higher levels.

What is it, anyway? – Look it up if you really want to know!

Back to the bus, which meant choosing between the road and the path beside the stream. Against advice from Paul, I chose the latter. Yes, ‘avoid’ may have been good advice in different, wetter, muddier conditions, but it was very pleasant. A short ride back to Laxey Station, and then came the question ‘what, and where, to eat?’ The station café didn’t appeal to me (unlicensed!) so I wandered about a bit and found a Co-op shop where I bought a paper, a miniature bottle of vin blank and a prawn sandwich. Then I found a bench in part shade to consume them (not the paper!). Nice enough, but nothing special, nor specially local!

My bench seat gave me a view of the coming and going of the ‘traffic’ at the station, which serves as the interchange between the electric railway and the Snaefell Mountain Railway:

(The unoccupied bench in the photo is not the one I was sitting on!)

The Mountain Railway was our next adventure, and should, I suppose, have been the highlight of the week. For scenery it probably was, but the vehicle was full and very uncomfortable with its hard, wooden benches. At the top, the views were pleasant, but, to a Lake District fan, unspectacular, and with the heat haze, the glimpses of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland were not to be seen, not as far as I made out, anyway. And as for the café … I’ll say no more.

Probably a good idea to include a few of the scenic pics, including the entrance to the former Snaefell tin mine, and the Laxey Wheel as seen from the railway:

(Gorse in bloom was dominant all over the island.)

The return to Douglas was by means of the electric train, and I chose the open carriage this time. That may have been a good choice for the fresh air, but it meant another cramped and uncomfortable experience on a wooden bench. This seems to have had ongoing consequences …

Encouraged by Terry, and one or two others who had been at the singalong the previous evening, it was decided to go again. Paul didn’t want to give me the mic to explain the whereabouts of the room and what I planned to do, but since I was seated immediately behind him, he relayed my info to the group on the bus. I said that if the same people came again I would do a different set, or if different folk turned up I would do some or all of the same. In the event it was a mix of returners and newcomers. On hearing of the double-speed Major-General challenge from the Sing-a-Ton, they urged me to do it again, and they also encouraged me (sort of) to do ‘Gee! Officer Krupke’! And lovely Louise brought me another free glass of wine …

Wednesday 30th April: An optional excursion was on the itinerary for the final day before heading for home. I had decided in advance not to join it. There’s an old steam train that runs from Douglas to Port St. Mary via Port Erin and I was hoping to ride on it. BUT – careful study of small print revealed that there was no service on April 30th!

So I went out and got on a ‘Bus Vannin’, buying a one-day ‘Go Explore’ ticket for £21 which was £5 more than the excursion with Paul would have cost, but it gave me more flexibility. A pleasant (and comfortable) ride took me to Port St. Mary, via Port Erin:

Those are both of Port Erin, taken through the window of the moving bus. I didn’t even notice the hexagonal monument as we drove by, so I don’t know what it is! I think we stayed in Port Erin on my only previous visit to the I o M. I was four years old, and we flew out in a biplane from Carlisle airport!

At Port St. Mary I got off at the harbour …

… and walked a considerable distance in increasing heat along the sea wall. It was beautifully unspoilt, but that meant not only no litter, but no shops, no cafés, no pub or restaurant. It was during this walk that I noticed the Isle of Man pleasantness on the part of the people which I mentioned earlier; everyone coming towards me smiled and greeted me.

However, it became apparent that any chance of finding refreshment meant climbing up one of the narrow alleys with steep steps to get to the main road running parallel to the sea front. There wasn’t a lot of choice, but the restaurant I found was excellent. A very friendly reception, telling me the garden room was full, but I could sit in the garden or where I was in the bar area. I said I thought I’d had enough sunshine for now and sat down. If there was a ‘best meal of the trip’, this was it! (There was a disappointing lack of local specialities on the menu at the hotel.) I chose from the ‘light bites’ menu and ordered Crab and Mackerel Croquettes. They were delicious – but ‘light bites’ indeed. Three golf-ball sized croquettes. But size didn’t matter – the supporting highlight was that, whereas at the hotel and other places I’d been in, there was no rosé wine to my taste, here on the drinks menu was Cinsault Grenache – the most common ‘house’ rosé around our home in France, and the one we began keeping for home consumption! I ordered a large glass, and explained my excitement over finding it to two members of staff who seemed genuinely interested. The croquettes were prepared to order, so that first glass of rosé was gone before they arrived! I ordered a second!

Back outside in the sunshine, and looking for a bus stop, guess what? – At a crossroads some way away, Paul’s bus went by with most of my companions on board! And my attention was drawn by the sound of some very noisy rooks:

They were evidently feeding their chicks.

The bus came on time, and returned by the same route. In Castletown we passed a coach parking spot, with Paul and a few of his passengers stood outside the Just Go bus! They didn’t spot me, but some of my fellow travellers on the Bus Vannin were intrigued by my gesture towards the coach. It wasn’t rude, more of a fist pump. I explained about my having rejected the excursion in favour of planning my own day and one lady said “I bet you’re having more fun!”.

Also in Castletown we passed this:

The last time I saw anything like that was at the entrance to the French motorway service area called ‘Aire du Héron Cendré’.

I was enjoying my day, but another disapoinment followed. After getting off the bus at the Douglas Ferry Terminal where I did a bit of shopping, I hoped to be able to ride on the horse drawn tram – the same ticket would have covered it – but walking to where it stopped / started was too far and I needed a rest, so I took another bus to the hotel. Rested and refreshed (coffee!) and still with time to spare before dinner, I went back out expecting to get yet another bus to go to the end of the promenade, get the tram there, do the full distance and return. But either I misread the timetable or the bus didn’t turn up. The tram did, and stopped just there! But I didn’t know that it would stop at the hotel and the road was too busy for me to cross and get on. Of course, I could have waited for it to come back and still have ridden on it, but I’d had enough standing, and anyway, I’d taken the photograph! –

So I went back in and watched some TV before dinner. Once I was in the dining room the Lovely Louise brought me a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Partway through the meal, she brought me another! No bill was presented … However, with the rosé at lunch time, that made a litre for the day and whether that had anything to do with my present difficulties* … who knows?

Thursday May 1st: We were under strict instructions to have our luggage at the bus by 6.30 am! Then to have breakfast and be on the bus, ready to roll at 7.30. There followed the short drive to the ferry terminal and straight on with no waiting. Once parked, and by agreement with Paul the previous evening, he offloaded my luggage so that although I had boarded as a coach passenger, I was able to disembark as a foot passenger. This made it easier for everyone, and fortunately posed no problems.

The crossing (three and a half hours) was smooth and easy and I chatted with Terry for the final time. A taxi was standing by at Heysham and was available to take me to ‘Papa Romeo’ (my car). The return home was hot but easy, apart from a delay near Saddleworth where a wildfire was raging on the moor. En route I ‘treated’ myself to that great ‘British’ (?) speciality, a Chicken Royale from Burger King at Rivington Services on M62. I arrived at 141 Hall Cross Road at 3 pm to be greeted by clematis in full bloom and Smudge delighted to see me!

How do I feel about this trip? I’m glad to have done it. Would I do it again? – No. Would I recommend Just Go! or use them again? Probably not.

*Footnote to clarify this enigmatic reference: I think the walking and the uncomfortable travelling on the railways combined to to leave me very troubled with painful, swollen feet and ankles. Nothing new but severe enough to get to see a doctor first thing Friday morning (2nd May). Blood pressure was very high, even for me, and he referred me for (yet another) blood test and a chest x-ray. These appointments are booked, but haven’t happened yet.

Then on Saturday it got worse! My left big toe became red, swollen and painful and previous experience told me – a flare-up of gout! Last occurrence was a year ago, and was greatly helped by a prescription for colchicine. I thought I had some left, but I couldn’t find it. I called 111. A helpful person said they would refer me to the out of hours GP service who would call me within a few hours. They didn’t; it got too late.

I managed to get lunch for Chris, Michelle and Sean yesterday (Sunday) – Hope was elsewhere, but the swelling and pain got worse through the evening and overnight. This morning (Monday 5th, Bank Holiday) I tried to contact surgery again. No chance – closed, bank holiday, so I rang 111 again. Brilliant service this time from them and from Lockwood Pharmacy, which is open. Lucky that Papa Romeo is automatic! – I wouldn’t have been able to manage a clutch pedal! I now have the medicine and expect a quick recovery. Was it caused by that litre of wine in one day? Maybe – but that was on Wednesday; the gout flare-up started on Saturday.

Thanks for reading.