No buses...

A few days on the Isle of Man didn’t go quite to plan. The idea was to leave the car behind and use the extensive Manx bus service to get around and explore. This plan hit the buffers as soon as we touched down. It turned out that a bus strike had been carefully planned to coincide with our stay, so we had to rethink.

There’s a tram system. Only in season though. There’s an electric railway. Also only in season. We could hire a car. No, we couldn’t – the only car hire place I could find open looked like a good option. Very friendly people. Less friendly insurers who stipulated cars could only be rented to drivers between the ages of 25 and 65 so we were excluded (too young, obviously). To add to the frustrations, I wanted a Sunday paper and we’d spotted a large sign above a shop doorway, saying ‘Newsagent’. I’m not sure why -they don’t sell newspapers. Thank goodness for Spar (other convenience stores are available).

On the plus side, Manx people seem to be among the friendliest you can meet, the hotel was good, the sea front at Douglas is amazing and we found a wonderful curry house. We also managed a trip to Peel, on a rare bus, and walked a fair bit – and read and relaxed. Much needed as it’s back to the spinning plates this week.

I managed very little writing. Just a few haiku

car hire denied
coastal walk
rain over sea


newsagent
selling
no papers


hotel breakfast
out the window
a hooded crow


offseason activity
through the scaffolding
white horses