Yet, the island is famous for entirely different things: petrol heads, filming locations and tax evaders. The petrol heads come for the annual Isle of Man TT motorcycle race, when crazy hotheads drive along the coast like maniacs. Every year, it seems someone dies crashing or driving off a cliff. Actually, for years, this was the most famous motorcycle race in the world. Arcade games are named after it.

Man attracts the film industry because of its great locations (and, I assume, tax-breaks). More than 80 films have been filmed on the island, incl. I Capture the Castle, Keeping Mum, Waking Ned and Lassie. The tourism authorities advertise the fact just a wee bit: “On the Isle of Man, you can expect Patrick Swayze to pop down in the seat next to you in the cinema, or spot Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor jogging along the promenade in Douglas.” For interested readers, here’s more info about filming locations on the Isle of Man.

And true: some, quite a few, probably, are here because of the low (or no) taxes. Man has no capital gains tax, wealth tax, death duty (inheritance tax) or stamp duty (document tax). Top income tax rate is 18 %, but capped at 100 000 pounds per person. Corporate tax is, with a few exceptions, nothing, 0 %, nil!

To the economist and the social democrat in me, there’s something a bit unsavoury in wishing to attract people who prefer to contribute as little as possible to the common good. I discussed this plenty, sometimes heatedly, and often over copious GTs, with other tourists and Man residents who had moved over for tax purposes. Sadly, I hadn’t really found any true locals to talk it over with.

Chatting with an Isle of Man local

Waiting for the Viking to take me back to Liverpool, I spent my last morning at the Manx Museum. During lunch in the attractive, airy museum café, the Bay Room, an elderly lady approached me. “You’re on your own, aren’t you,” she said. “I see you in here quite often.”

“I’m afraid not,” I replied. “This is my first visit, both to this café and to Isle of Man”. I asked her to join me, and as luck would have it, there was my local. She was a kind and thoughtful lady, recently widowed, who came in here for lunch quite often herself. We talked about Isle of Man, its people and the reason people move here. When I asked her about the island’s reputation for attracting financial fixers, she became very sad.

“Some come here for all the wrong reasons,” she said quietly. “The island has so much to offer.” She herself had married a Manx farmer, moved here 50 years ago and had enjoyed every one of those years. She loved Isle of Man; it had been good to her and her family. “Schools and health care are good and it’s a secure, healthy place for children to grow up”, she said before we parted. I was glad to talk to her.

Leaving the Bay Room, I wondered who she was, the one who came here quite often, all on her own, and looking like me – my Manx double.

Isle of Man – thoughts and conclusions is a post from Sophie's World

At about 5, I stopped at a cheerful pub called The Castle Arms that looked cosy in the late afternoon sunshine. Might they have some food and not just beer, I enquired. “Sorry, luv,” the man said. “We finish serving food at 2. Try the Garrison or the Viking. The Viking serves pub meals from 6 o’clock.” Then he went on to give detailed directions to the Viking – over the bridge, around-and-a-ways, next to the petrol station – clearly indicating, I think, which of the two alternatives he preferred.

I was hungry now however, so the Garrison it was. Looking at its menu, comprising wine and tapas, I could see how it might not offer ideal grub for a big, burly man. Anyway, he called me luv. A bit naff, I know, but I rather like it when big, burly men call me luv.

Castle Rushen – and a bit of Castletown history

Settling on chicken breast stuffed with smoked salmon (sounds odd but it works) followed by a ham, cheese and peach salad and a lovely glass of Italian red, I stared out the window at Castle Rushen – one of Europe’s best kept medieval castles. I thought of Magnus Olafsson, my fellow countryman and the last Norse king to rule over Man. He died in Castle Rushen in 1265. The following year, another Magnus (Magnus Lagabøte – or Magnus the Law-mender in English) ceded the Isle of Man to the Scots at the Treaty of Perth. (Norway kept Shetland and the Orkneys for another couple of hundred years, until a king of Denmark-Norway pawned them (!) to pay for his daughter’s dowry… but that’s another story for another time).

A few minutes earlier, a guide was busy closing up shop at Castle Rushen. Her colleagues were soaking up the last rays of the setting sun, chatting and waiting for the remaining visitors to leave. None too happy with me showing up 4 minutes before closing time, they were reluctant to let me in. But I was firm, insisting it was 4.56, not yet 5. I showed them my 4-attractions-on-Man card (which I hadn’t time to use, silly me for buying one), determined not to leave the island without at least using half of it.

Back at the Garrison, I was persuaded to try a dessert called Eton Mess. When I asked what on earth that was, the waitress just said: “It’s gorgeous!”, herself rather gorgeous – and slim. So I took my chances. Eton Mess is meringue, whipped cream and strawberries, all mixed together in a well… mess. Eton? I suppose this is what rich young boys like for pudding. Afterwards, I thought I was going to explode, that’s how full I was.

Castletown Square has the imposing Castle Rushen on one side. On the other, the cerulean ocean peeked through an alley. Waiting for the bus back to Douglas, I reflected on, as I often do, the fact that I’d probably never see this square again. A pretty square in a pleasant town on an interesting island. Sadly, the world is full of places I haven’t yet seen…

Tomorrow: some concluding thoughts and observations about the Isle of Man
Below: Castletown harbour. I do like sail boats.

Castletown

Castletown is a post from Sophie's World

I spent too much time in Laxey, and, annoyingly, too much time waiting for buses and trains. My bad – you really can’t fault a service that runs every 30 – 40 minutes. Ambling over to the Douglas-bound train, I discovered I just missed one. At the bus stop nearby, I discovered I had just missed that, too. It was now 1 p.m. and I realized all of a sudden I didn’t have all day, as everything closed at 5. So it now seemed I had to choose: Either go west and see Peel Castle (featured in I Capture the Castle) and the supposedly fabulous House of Mananan. Or go south to Castletown and onwards.

For 40 minutes at the bus stop in Laxey, surrounded by flowers, I pondered this. I wanted to do both! Today! Plus, I was hungry. On the bus to Douglas, I got into one of my internal, silent pet peeves. I’ll share it here with you: Why is it that we, in this advanced age, haven’t come past having to eat? Oh, we can still have dinner parties, romantic meals for two and all that – but on a daily basis, why can’t we run on, say pure energy? All this having to take breaks to put stuff in – and out, as it were – is a bloody nuisance. Not least now.

Meanwhile, the bus stopped at Douglas harbour and I ran like a mad woman to the bus station. All of a sudden I saw the Peel bus at one stop and the Castletown bus at the next. I had loosely planned to let fate decide: whichever bus was at the station first – there go I. Now I was torn, looking from one bus to the other. Both drivers looked expectantly at me. But I couldn’t decide, so finally they both took off, leaving me there as the bloody Queen of Indecision. Damn!

Two seconds later, I noticed the southbound bus wasn’t only going to Castletown but all the way to Calf Sound. And two seconds after that, after a quick peek in a brochure, I realized that’s where a special part of Keeping Mum was filmed.

Isle of Man as film location

Keeping Mum, if you haven’t seen it, is a fun film with peculiar and slightly scary morals: If men misbehave, kill them. The film stars Patrick Swayze as a sleazy golf pro, and Kristin Scott Thomas as a frustrated, neglected wife of an asexual vicar (Rowan Atkinson – the Black Adder!), mostly concerned with God and his congregation in Little Wallop.

In one scene, Kristin and Patrick sit in a restaurant, discussing their plans to run away together, leaving poor Rowan behind, not knowing what hit him. Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen. Kristin’s mum (played brilliantly by Dame Maggie Smith) found out Patrick was secretly video-taping Kristin’s teenage daughter naked and whacked him dead with an iron. Then, she proceeded to give Rowan sex advice based on Biblical scripture – and everyone was happy; well, all but Patrick and some other men who didn’t behave.

When Kristin and Patrick discuss running away, they’re in a restaurant with panorama windows through which you see the most stunning scenery. And I’ve seen heaps of stunning views. It was so gorgeous, I had to look up the film location: Isle of Man.

Recognizing the film location in the brochure, I immediately knew where I had to go. This particular location, along with the fact that the Isle of Man is for all intents and purposes a separate country, is what drew me to the island in the first place.

While the restaurant had seemed significantly larger in the film (that’s Hollywood – larger than life), Calf Sound was just at beautiful in real life. I looked out at the light house and Calf Island for ages; or for as long as the bus driver was willing to wait, as he was the last one going back that day (at 4 pm!) The kindly man also pointed out two basking sharks for me. At first, I didn’t see any and was annoyed in that childish, slightly whiney way you are when someone points out something and you just don’t see it. “Out there. Look!” he said. I couldn’t see a thing, damn it. Then, all of a sudden, I did.

They were beautiful. These sharks are the second largest fish in the world, but not dangerous to people, as they prefer a veg diet. I’m glad I saw them – and the Sound.

Calf Sound is great for kayaking next to basking whales and Atlantic seals. But not without a skilled guide. The currents are strong and many have met shipwreck here.

Isle of Man

Discovering a film location on Isle of Man is a post from Sophie's World

Mount Snaefell

After 30 minutes of ruggedly beautiful scenery, I’m on top of Mount Snaefell having morning tea and a Strawberry and Apricot Victoria. Aren’t English cake names fabulous? Like Jam Roly Poly, or Seed Cake, or Raspberry Charlotte? Or how about Puff Fancies? I’m always curious to try new ones. But as often as not, they sound better than they taste, I’m afraid. This Victoria is no exception: too sweet and sticky. Also, at 5 pounds, the mediocre morning tea is a bit overpriced. But I suppose you pay for the experience of having tea and cake at the summit of the island’s highest mountain.

At 617 metres (2 036 feet), I’d say Mount Snaefell barely qualifies as a hill. But I mustn’t be unkind. Snaefell means Snowy Mountain. This I know, because I speak Norwegian. The Norwegian word for Snowy Mountain is Snefjell (“j” pronounced like “y”). Another remnant of Man’s Viking past.

At the summit, the winds are harsh. I stand with my arms outstretched for quite some time, just feeling the forces of nature. But just as I’m about to walk back down the hill mountain, rain sets in. Walking from the summit is only 1 ½ hours, nothing for a Viking. However, this Viking has pink satin trainers on. Not about to ruin them, stumbling into puddles and cow manure. Back to Laxey by train then.

Laxey is a green and pretty little village…

…with a great wheel as the major attraction. The Lady Isabella is the world’s largest industrial water wheel, built to pump water from the nearby mines. I amble about for ages, absorbed in mining history and thankful I’ve never had to work in one. Climbing the dizzying spiral staircase to the top of Isabella, I feel an odd mixture of exhilaration, vertigo and the hypnotic effect of the giant wheel splashing past me.

I go inside a mine – well, 40 – 50 metres inside one; wearing a blue hard hat – and getting my shoes wet. But they survive the ordeal relatively unscathed. Very inappropriate footwear, I know. But you should see them. They’re gorgeous.

Next is Calf Sound, a fab filming location, and so much more.

Meanwhile, have a look over at DeliciousBaby for more Friday photos.

Laxey and Mount Snaefell is a post from Sophie's World

The island has a curious status: it’s neither part of Great Britain nor the United Kingdom or the EU, but it is part of the British Isles. Isle of Man is infamous for attracting tax evaders and petrol heads – and I’ll cover that later this week. First, however, I want to talk about other things: Man’s beautiful nature, great hiking, nice people and interesting history; Viking history even, always dear to a Norwegian heart. This was once called the Norse Kingdom of Mann and the Isles. Tynwald, the Manx Parliament, dates back to the Viking era and is among the oldest in the world.

Douglas – capital of Isle of Man

The Viking docked in Douglas harbour about ten o’clock in the evening. The long parade along the bay was all lit up and pretty. In the hills above town loomed what appeared to be castles, illuminated slightly, just enough to look a bit spooky. This looked promising, indeed. Next morning, I noticed they weren’t castles, just large houses; nothing spooky about them. Apart from that slight disappointment, Douglas was pleasant. And flowery.

With the long ocean parade and elegant Victorian buildings, it reminded me of Llandudno.

Public transport is excellent and comes in many forms: busses, electric trains and horse drawn trams.

I’m not big on horse drawn carriages as I’m almost certain the horse would much rather be elsewhere. However, several locals assured me the trammers worked max 2 hours per day, were treated well and sent off to a nice horsey rest home when they retired.

On the way out of town one day, the bus drove past the Home of Rest for Old Horses. It looked nice, roomy and green and I was sorry I didn’t have time to visit. Apparently there’s also a Manx cat at the rest home and I didn’t see any of those either. Plenty of sea gulls, though. But although I appreciate their photogenic qualities, I’m a bit apprehensive around sea gulls. They look as though they’re about to stab me in the head with their sharp beaks.

Isle of Man seagulls

More Isle of Man tomorrow, when we head for the hills to Mount Snaefell and the Great Laxey Wheel

Douglas

Isle of Man – first impressions is a post from Sophie's World