What a day at the Isle of Man! Once again I’ve been flooded with kind hospitality from my New Zealander host, Christine, and her dear aunt Ann. After finally arriving at the Isle of Man at 16:00 and being despondent at the thought of being able to see any of the sights on the island, I was able to get into the free (always a good sign) tour at the Isle of Man Museum, only a few blocks away from the ferry drop off. My first thoughts of the island was that it was trying to be some kind of tropical 19th century pleasure hideaway; all the buildings on the dock line are large, ornate, pastel coloured, and seem to have about 5-6 floors. The yucca trees sway gracefully about them in the currently-chilly May breezes, and seagulls dash about wailing at the tourists.

The museum was unfortunately only open for one more hour, but I tried to learn as much as I could about Manx culture and history in that brief time; racing through the rooms and photographing every exhibit (and more importantly, every sign explaining what the exhibits were so I could read them later) – the place was almost deserted of course, everyone having gone to watch the TT races or avoiding the island altogether. However, long before I got to see everything I wanted, the place closed up and I was back out on the street.

Auntie Ann greeted me at the door when I arrived and showed me around the place. Currently being remodelled for the past few months, the place looks stunning, in cream carpeting and red panelled walls. I was in love with the sitting room, which has ornate frescos on the ceiling where the light fixture attaches. As dinner wasn’t for another few hours, I took the time to go back to the docks and get my ticket leave extended from 8:00 to 17:30 and to change my destination from the essentially-deserted Heysham to a return to trip to Liverpool, where I could catch a train from.

By the time I came back, Christine had arrived with her simply adorable golden retriever Riley, as well as a couple friends, Jane and Phil. I liked them all right away, and we went downstairs and had some champagne and snacks before dinner. Riley is still only a little older than puppy age, but is simply enormous – he loves to jump up on people and several times his long plume-like tail knocked over our empty champagne glasses. Phil is a Liverpudlian himself, and after listening to a couple of them the previous night at the hostel and being able to place it, I realized that I now could recognise both Somerset and Liverpool accents. I’m getting better at this! (although some might tell me that you’d need to be deaf not to recognize Scouse.)

Dinner was delicious and contained more never-before-seen English treats like parsnips and Yorkshire puddings (which are not puddings at all, Yanks). Afterwards, Christine continued to extend amazing hospitality to me like Nathalie and her family, helping me get things lined up for my troublesome night in Carlisle (which is now tomorrow – I hope it goes alright.) We finally got things all set up pretty well though; although I am going to be arriving at my fabulously expensive hotel at “Travel Inn” at about half past midnight.

I’d best get myself to bed now; I do indeed now intend to continue with my semi-original plan of renting a bike tomorrow and biking to Peel Castle, and then hopefully to south Mann to see the Manx at the Santon farm.