Superlatives will abound in this blog. You have been warned.
The first days walking on Wobbly Walk VI was sensationally, spectacularly fabulous. As was the lemon yoghurt cake.
The breakfast in the hotel was glorious and served by a Chinese lady who kept shouting at us. I was wetting myself.
The moments before a walk are always the same. Excitement, anticipation and apprehension.
It was billed as a gentle start to the circuit of the island, which it wasn’t, it was flat at the start but very undulating over headlands and down into bays as we walked around the south of the island. The highlight was the stretch around the Calf of Man, the wee island off the bottom of the main island, the scenery was marvellous.
The Manx people are very friendly. It’s easy to be nice when you have retired to a tax haven, I suppose, but even the workies who keep the place going are very friendly. And unusual. We meet three lads digging a hole on Port Erin beach. They were equipped. Spades, legionnaires hats and a case of Stella. And it turns out the were digging without purpose. Just fancied digging. We watched them from our hotel balcony for many hours. Three grown men, digging a hole, and taking it in turns to jump in and out. Brilliant.
Mary, the proprietor of this evening’s hotel is an endearing character. She seemed a bit potty. Yet she climbed machu pechhu for her 50th and her bar is a shrine to the greatest of TT racers, Ulster’s own, Joey Dunlop.
Everyone has settled in fine. Maisie is in charge. I am relaxed and ready for day two.