Explanation

I don't really expect anyone to be interested in my ramblings but if you do come across this blog and are curious, let me explain.  It is a collection of emails that I sent to friends and family after our weekly hikes around the Isle of Man.

I started in May 2013 with the emails that I wrote about our walk around the Isle of Man in 2009 . . . but then I decided to add the other walks that we did between 2009 and early in 2013.  I am going to add them gradually (mainly on rainy afternoons) starting with the most recent.  I will publish them under the actual dates of the walks - so they will be in chronological order and they should be displayed below the Coastal Footpath entries.  All the more recent hikes, since 12th March 2013, are on my other blog at http://2caillagh.blogspot.com/

We are no longer hiking and my recent posts, mainly about our garden, can be found at http://caillagh.blogspot.com/

Ramsey

Twelth leg of the Raad ny Foillan - and finally . . . to the lighthouse!

 

26 October, 2009

 

    Linda joined us for the last leg of the walk.  It wasn't another "pretty" day - but it wasn't windy and the clouds weren't as threatening as they looked.  The occasional rain was light and patchy.

 

    We parked by the shore, in front of the Grand Island Hotel.  Linda said that she had heard that the owners had applied for planning permission to build apartments on the site - but the permission was conditional on the facade being preserved and the developers wanted to demolish the whole building.  Apparently, it has been suggested that the motive behind boarding up the building is that they intend neglecting it until it is in such a bad state that it is no longer worth preserving.  I had mixed feelings looking at the old hotel.  It still had pretensions of being grand when we first moved to Ramsey and was patronised by coach parties of elderly tourists and the type of person who liked going out for afternoon tea - and croquet.  I suppose I should welcome the end of the hotel as it is a relic of a society based on class and privilege . . . but it was sad to see the overgrown lawns and deserted building. 

 

 

 

  There are some old photographs of the hotel and opinions on its fate at the following site   http://www.bbc.co.uk/isleofman/content/image_galleries/grandisland_gallery.shtml?1 

 

  Before we left the car park, we took a few photographs of Ramsey . . . showing a dark and moody view of the gulls and clouds over Ramsey Bay with the outline of Maughold Head, the Brooghs and Slieau Lewaigue in the background . . . 

 

 

 

. . .  and the road back to Ramsey with the top of North Barrule obscured by low cloud.  

 

 

 

  Then we started the long trudge along the shore to the Point of Ayre.    The first stretch is a bit boring - but as we walked along, and the cliffs got higher, we came across some colonies of sand martin nests scraped out of the clay.  The birds use their feet to scrape out little tunnels in the cliff face.  The tunnels can be two to three feet long and are enlarged at the end to form a nesting chamber.  Like the Grand Island, the colony was deserted because the sand martins leave for equatorial West Africa in August or September.  But they will be back next Spring. 

 

 

 

 

    Soon after we passed the steps up to the road at Dog Mills, Trevor realised that his camera was missing.  He had taken some photographs in the car park and thought he had put the camera in his backpack - but it was missing.  Trevor ran back to the car to see whether he could find it, while the rest of the party wandered slowly along the beach waiting for him to return. 

 

    We reached Shellag Point at the end of the Bride hills - the highest part of the clay cliffs on the north east of the Island.   I took a photograph of the eroded and crumbling cliff face and when I got home I noticed that Leo had been fossicking at the base of the cliffs and had managed to get into the picture.

 

 

 

 

  There are a number of "points" around the north of the Island.  I had always assumed that a point would be an area of land visibly jutting out into the sea but only the Point of Ayre really qualifies on that basis.  Shellag Point, Rue Point, Blue Point and Jurby Point are marked on gently curved coastline - although the name Jurby Point has been replaced by the more accurate Jurby Head on modern maps.  After mulling over thoughts about "point-less" or "disa-point-ed" points, I wondered whether there had originally been visible points which had disappeared due to coastal erosion.  I checked some old maps to see if I could solve the riddle.  The very early maps just showed the island as a roughly oval shape.  The first almost recognisable map was published by John Speed in 1605 and was based on a survey by Thomas Durham carried out in 1598.  In Speed's map the Island is shown as abnormally elongated and "Shellack poynt" and "Ieorby (Jurby) poynte" are drawn as prominent bulges in the coastline but these early maps can't be relied on to be accurate. 

 

    There are other inaccuracies in the early maps - apart from the proportions of the Island, for instance Brown's Directory of 1894 remarks that "In the old map of the Island . . . . Point Cranstal is called "Shellack Poynt", and a small village named "Cranston" is marked close to it, but it has long disappeared."  I checked and found "Cranston" on Speed's map  - but it is marked in the same place as the existing village of "Cranstal" and was obviously just a spelling error by the Dutch engravers.  There is more confusion because, in the modern maps, the name Cranstal is used only for the group of houses, which includes the two little thatched cottages, on the road from Bride to the Point of Ayre.  Previously, the nearby hamlet on the coast - now called Phurt - was also referred to as Cranstal or Port Cranstal.  For instance, Mate's Isle of Man Illustrated 1902 mentions that "The little cove of Cranstal, a mile from the lighthouse on the shore of Ramsey Bay, is also more than worth a visit."

 

    I took a photograph of the rest of the party on the beach near Shellag Point just before Trevor arrived back with the disturbing news that he hadn't found his camera.  He had remembered putting it down on the wall near the car and thinking that he should be careful not to forget it.  We all hoped that some kind person had seen the camera on the wall and had taken it to the police station - with the exception of Dorothy, who was quite excited about the prospect of helping him to choose a new camera!

 

 

 

 

    The beach north of Ramsey is littered with history.  There are sections of rusty pipes, remains of the pipe line which carried brine along the beach from the Point of Ayre to the salt works.  Deposits of salt were found in the north of the Island at the end of the nineteenth century, during exploratory drilling in a fruitless search for coal.  The brine was pumped to Ramsey until the salt works closed down in 1956.  There are also the remains of buildings, victims of coastal erosion, which have fallen from the cliffs above the beach.   We found a complete set of concrete steps with a bit of bent and rusty hand rail still attached.  Then we were puzzled by a square brick structure which looked too big to be part of a chimney. 

 

  Further along the beach we found some pieces of brick wall which had been worn into an artistically wavy shape by the sea  - even Leo seemed surprised to see them there. 

 

 

 

 

  I wondered whether they were the remains of the fishermen's cottages described in Mate's Isle of Man Illustrated 1902  http://www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/fulltext/mat1902/p054.htm  - but they may have been too far south.  According to chapter 6 of "The Isle of Man: celebrating a sense of place" "The Bride commissioners were expressing serious concern in 1951 about the coastal road and cottages at Cranstal which in 1925 were 100m from the sea, but by 1951 had lost their pathway and were a mere five metres from the sea.  The cottage nearest to the sea lost its seaward gable in October/November 1961 and only a portion of the back wall was left standing by March 1962.  By 1975 it had disappeared completely and the gable end was all that remained of the second cottage.  This now lies on the beach."   There is a photograph of the coastal erosion in that area, taken in February 1951 which may show the lost cottages in the middle distance  http://www.gov.im/lib/docs/mnh/biblios/coast.pdf

 

    As we passed Phurt, the cliffs, which had been gradually getting lower, were not much more than head height and the strata of pebbles and clay could be seen clearly on the eroded surface.

 

 

 

    The last part of the walk has improved immeasurably in recent years.  Since the incinerator was built south of Douglas to dispose of the Island's rubbish, the tip in the old gravel pits near the Point of Ayre has been closed.   Instead of being the source of unpleasant smells and wind-blown litter, the area has been smoothed over and covered with earth and the vegetation is growing back.  Only the hordes of gulls who thought of every rubbish lorry as their own "meals on wheels" are sad about the change.

 

    The last few yards of the walk pass the old jetty where gravel was loaded onto ships.  It has historic interest because an old concrete boat was used as the foundation for the jetty but we were more concerned with getting back to the car and returning to Ramsey in search of Trevor's missing camera.

 

    So, finally - after twelve walks which were all interesting in different ways - we came to the end of our journey. 

 

 

 

PS On Monday afternoon I got an email from Dorothy saying:

 "Hello,    Trevor was delighted ( I think) to get his old camera back when he called at the police station.     This has dashed all hopes of an early update of his compact, that we were seriously discussing before he was reunited with his old out of date, faithful, old camera.              Bye,   Dorothy"  

 

    So - another case of all's well that ends well.

 

Cornaa

Eleventh leg of the Raad ny Foillan - a pretty day

12th October, 2009

 

   Monday was a lovely day . . .  a "pretty" day - as they say in North Carolina - with a very pretty beginning.

 

 

 

    We left a car at the north end of the Mooragh Promenade in Ramsey (instead of the southern end where the new swimming pool has been built) because I was still a bit neurotic about disk parking signs sprouting up unexpectedly, after our experience on Douglas Head.  When we arrived at Cornaa to start our walk the tide was out, the salt marsh had drained, and the view up the valley was transformed from last week.

 

 

 

    We walked up the valley, crossed the footbridge and continued up the path past the swampy area where the marsh marigolds (or Kingcups) flower early in the spring.  We soon reached the Bellite Factory.  In 1890 work was started on this explosives factory and a jetty, but after numerous complaints the enterprise was abandoned two years later, before it was completed.  "A mass of masonry some distance inland, the arrested Bellite Factory, gives a suggestion of old activities decayed. Nature is already softening the harshness of the crude building, and making it part of itself."  This would still be an apt description today - but it is actually taken from a series of "Sketches of Locality" by John Quine, published in the Ramsey Church Magazine in 1896/7. 

 

 

 

 Here is a link if you would like to read the rest of the Sketches  http://www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/rcm/rcm_skl.htm 

 

    We continued up the path towards Ballaglass and then turned up the hill along a narrow road which first crosses the tramline and then the road to Maughold village before continuing over the top of the hill.  It had been quite chilly in the shade of the trees but the sun was shining, the air was crystal-clear and it was warming up nicely.  There are two sites of historic interest at the top of the hill.  On the east side of the road is the Ballafayle Cairn - the remains of a Neolithic burial site dating from between 1500 and 2000 BC.  The site had been cleared since our last visit, when the cairn was almost obscured by fallen Scots pines, victims of the gales.

 

 

 

   On the other side of the road, (in the background of the last photograph) lies the Quaker Burial Ground . . . with its Scots pines still upright.  In the 17th century, William Callow, one of the early Manx Quakers was persecuted, imprisoned and banished from the Island before being allowed to return four years before his death.   This burial ground was part of the Callow family farm.  William Callow was buried here in 1676 and up to eight other Quakers may also have been buried at this site, but William's wife and children were buried at the church.

 

    While we were taking photographs, a couple walked up the road with their dog.  It wanted to make friends and introduce itself to Alexander but he suspected that it had ulterior motives and jumped over the stone stile to seek sanctuary with the Quakers, and then decided that he would be safer on top of the wall.  He stood up there like the king of the castle, barking very quietly - more of a muffled coughing noise really - as though he wanted to warn the strange dog to keep its distance but didn't want to risk antagonising it too much.

 

 

 

    The next part of the walk was down the road, through Ballajora and past some particularly delicious blackberries growing in the hedges, to Port Mooar.  The views across the fields to Maughold Head and the lighthouse were superb, with Port Mooar in the foreground and the distant blue hills of Cumbria on the horizon.

 

 

 

    As we crossed the shingle beach at Port Mooar, we were joined by an ecstatic young Springer spaniel which came running out of the cottage near the shore.  She wanted to flirt with Alexander who was not amused.  We used to have a Springer, Bailey, living next door to us and he was a notorious wanderer.  We often heard his owners shouting for him in the plantation and he used to follow the horses back to the riding school when they walked down the glen road.  This Springer reminded me of Bailey.  It was the same colouring, and it also looked as though it would be quite happy to tag along with a group of strangers.  It was hardly more than a puppy and I was worried that might not be able to find its way home if it followed us - so the others waited while I went to look for the owner.  I had a bit of trouble attracting his attention because he was using a very loud vacuum cleaner - but eventually he switched it off and heard me knocking on the door.  Then he had quite a lot of difficulty catching his puppy which had decided that it would like nothing better than a long walk with Alexander.

 

    The footpath skirts the north side of Port Mooar and then rounds the headland towards the lighthouse.  We stopped for tea on a flat, grassy area where there is a bench  When I looked at the inscription on the bench, I saw that it had been put there in memory of Sheila Boak who died in 2005.  She was the wife of Alan Boak and they were our neighbours at Ballure Grove, where we rented a house before we bought Covertside.  Alan was a keen hiker, although Sheila had stopped walking when we knew her because of arthritis.  We learned a lot about the Island footpaths from Alan.  The inscription mentioned that Sheila loved to watch the seals from this place.  There were no seals to greet us on Monday but I have seen dozens reclining on the flat rocks around this part of the coast in the past.

 

 

 

    After tea we continued around the coast and then climbed up to the stile which leads to field and then another stile into a lane - past Betsy's field.  This is a field where she chased some sheep when she was still a wild child - only about a year old.  It would have been funny if it hadn't been so worrying.  Betsy was chasing the sheep, who didn't seem to be particularly bothered and were just trotting around the field, and poor Tim was chasing Betsy, while I had Chrissie on the lead in the lane.  When Tim caught Betsy, and brought her back to the gate, all the sheep followed him.   They looked on with great interest and apparent approval, while I attached Betsy's lead and gave her a good talking to and a smack.

 

    The lane winds up through the fields and finally joins up with the road to Maughold Head and the lighthouse.  We followed the road and the track, just stopping to take a photograph of Maughold churchyard and North Barrule.

 

 

 

  Then we turned on to the footpath along the Brooghs to Port e Vullen.  The views from the Brooghs are always lovely, but I had never seen the Cumbrian coast more clearly than on Monday - we could even distinguish the ominous buildings at the nuclear power station at Sellafield.  I was rather miserly with photographs towards the end of the walk because my camera was threatening me with a flashing red battery symbol!  I had been rather over-enthusiastic at the beginning of the walk, and I didn't know how many more shots I could take before the battery packed up completely.

 

    I took one photograph from the Brooghs of Ramsey.  The white rectangular building to the right of the town is the Grand Island Hotel, where our car was parked.  Unfortunately the hotel is no longer grand.  The grounds are overgrown and the windows are boarded up - but there are rumours that it may eventually be converted to apartments.  The spur of land to the left of the photograph is Gob ny rona (Seal Point). 

 

 

 

Gob ny rona means Seal Point.  I was rather confused by the translation because I thought that Gob meant "mouth", which would be a better description of a small bay rather than a headland.  When I looked it up in a Manx dictionary, it became clear.  Gob can also mean "beak"!  I have never seen a seal at Gob ny rona but Dorothy and Trevor, who had been left behind, caught up with us and said that they had been photographing one at the bottom of Stack Mooar (the large rock in the centre of my photograph).

 

    After a short stretch along the road, we turned down to Port e Vullen.  I wanted to take at least one photograph of the unusual rock formations on the beach but, while I was searching for a good angle, I looked round and saw Alexander taking advantage of the pause in the walk to cool off in a small rock pool nearby.  I couldn't resist.  He is my water baby . . . and the most photogenic member of the family.

 

 

 

    After scrambling over some slippery rocks and walking around Gob ny rona to Port Lewaigue, we returned to the road and walked down to Ramsey.  We followed the path to the beach at Ballure and walked along the shore as far as the Queen's Pier.  I was worried that there might be a curfew for dogs on the beach so I took Alexander up onto the promenade while the others continued along the sands.  Alexander was not at all happy and kept going on sit-down strikes.  We came to some steps down to the shore and, as there was no threatening sign and a couple of other dogs were already on the beach, we went down to join the others.  I think the dogs which live in Port Erin and in the Ramsey/Maughold area could be the luckiest in the Island as far as walks are concerned.  We passed at least half a dozen dogs, out and about with their owners, on this stretch of the Raad ny Foillan and the only other place where we came across many dogs was on Bradda Head. 

 

    The last part of our route took us through the remains of the old town near the harbour, along the quay, over the swing bridge, past the new swimming pool and then along the beach to the car.  

 

    The eleventh leg of the Raad ny Foillan wasn't a very long walk - but it took us a long time because of delays caused by photography, dogs, and blackberries.  Next week we tackle the last leg of the walk and it will be difficult to find interesting topics to photograph because it is just beach and clay cliffs all the way.

 

Clay Head

The tenth leg of the Raad ny Foillan - sometimes you just can't see for looking

5th October 2009

 

    The route from Clay Head to Cornaa isn't my favourite section of the Raad ny Foillan.  Most of the route is along tarred roads - and, to make matters worse, it doesn't really follow the coastline . . . just visits it occasionally.  But it starts well.  We walked down the narrow Clay Head road until we reached the top of the footpath down to Garwick Bay.  This footpath, through the wooded glen to the shore, is one of the most pleasant parts of the walk.  Not many of the leaves had changed to their autumn colours yet, but the crunch of fallen sycamore leaves underfoot gave notice that autumn is approaching fast.

 

    Garwick Bay is one of the most secluded bays that can be reached by car.  It lies at the bottom of a steep, narrow, winding road and there is not a lot of space for parking.  It must be used though, because there are at least three boat houses on the pebbled shore.  There is a plaque on one saying that it has been restored in memory of its late owner.  I can't remember his name, but Trevor said he was a local character, who used to take take tourists and fishermen out in his boat.  This is the view along the coast from Garwick beach, looking north towards Laxey.  Garwick was our own private beach for the few minutes that we spent there taking photographs - our only company consisted of a few ducks floating near the shore . . . and a solitary swan paddling majestically through the shallows.  It surprised me to see one in the sea as I have only come across them on dams and rivers before.

 

 

 

    After climbing the narrow road up to the main east coast road, we had to brave the traffic until we reached Laxey.  Then we turned down towards the old town by the harbour.  We discussed going down a footpath at Gob y Rheynn - from the Fairy Cottage tram halt to the south end of Laxey beach, which leads down some steep, overgrown steps to the rocky shore.  It can only be used at low tide.  I was dubious about trying it but Trevor was keen so we started down.  Before we reached the top of the steps, we could see that the tide was too high, so we returned and followed the alternative route down to the road.  As we walked along, I kept looking apprehensively at the next climb - up to the top of the Ballaragh Road.  The further we descended towards the shore, the higher the climb seemed to loom above us. 

 

    Laxey beach was our last visit to the sea - until the end of the route at Cornaa.  The beach was deserted and ominous clouds were gathering over Clay Head - on the left, in the background - where we started out today.  Garwick Bay is hidden behind a headland in the southern corner of Laxey Bay.

 

 

 

    We left old Laxey and started the climb up towards Ballaragh.  The first part was along a steep, stony footpath which seemed to go on for a very long time.  Finally we reached the tramway and then crossed the main east coast road.  I took a photo of Laxey, way below us, while we were waiting for Dorothy and Trevor to catch up. 

 

 

 

  Then we crossed the road and continued to climb up a track until we reached the Ballaragh road.  I walked ahead because I wanted to look out for the "Spiral Stone" set into the bank at the side of the road.  But, looking back to check on the others, I saw the hills of north Wales on the horizon.  I was absurdly excited.  We often see the coasts of Scotland and Cumbria from the north of the Island, and even the Mountains of Mourne in the west, but it is more unusual to see Wales.  When the others caught up, I said "Look - Wales!"  The men were reasonably impressed but Dorothy kept insisting that she couldn't see anything.  We thought she might be too short to see over the bank, but when we stopped to look again - further up the road - the mystery was solved.  Finally, Dorothy said "All I can see is some hills" and the proverbial penny dropped.  She thought we had been looking at whales! 

 

    The "spiral stone" was easy to find - but the famous spirals were not.  It had been some years since we last stopped to look at the "spiral stone", it is quite a large stone, and we couldn't remember where to look for the small late Neolithic or early bronze age carvings.  We wasted quite a lot of time staring at it and finally gave up. 

 

 

 

  When we got home, I checked on the internet and realised that the spirals were close to the base of the stone and we had been looking too high.  (In the original email, I had a link to a website which showed a variety of photographs of the carvings from different dates.   It was interesting to see how much clearer the carvings were in the 1916 cast.  Unfortunately the website no longer exists.)   After discovering where to look, I was able to see the spirals in one of my photographs - but only faintly.  This is a link to one of David Radcliffe's photographs which shows the spirals clearly  http://www.flickr.com/photos/ballaugh/3995740687/in/photostream/

 

    In the next photograph, taken from the Ballaragh Road, you can almost see Wales!  Unfortunately, due to the reduction in file size, etc., it is just a faint blue blur on the horizon. 

 

 

 

    Dorothy wanted to stop at the top of Dhoon Glen for our tea break because she photographed some interesting fungi there last autumn.  But it really wasn't our day for seeing things.  There wasn't a solitary toadstool to be seen but the beech woods were lovely - as always.

 

 

 

  The midges, the first we have encountered on our trip, were not so lovely - so we didn't waste much time before continuing along the road to Cornaa.

 

    The tide had been coming in during our walk.  It was well out at Garwick, a lot higher at Laxey and just after its peak when we reached Cornaa.  I took two more photographs before we left.  The first shows Dorothy and Trevor on the shingle bank at Cornaa beach, trying to decide on good angles for photographs . . .  

 

 

 

. . . and the second shows the flooded salt marsh at the Cornaa river mouth at high tide. 

 

 

 

  This least favourite walk turned out to be enjoyable after all - even though we wasted some time searching for "invisible" spirals, and non-existent whales and fungi.

Douglas

The ninth leg of the Raad ny Foillan - all's well that ends . . . before the rain starts

21st September 2009

 

    The morning of the ninth walk started after a "weather-related" nightmare.  I think it was inspired by trying to make a decision about which day to walk.  Every morning the weather forecast changed.  On Saturday, the forecast for Tuesday looked better better than Monday - so we decided to wait for Tuesday.  By Sunday morning, the forecast for Monday had improved and Tuesday had deteriorated.  We changed back to Monday.  Of course, on Sunday night the forecasters had gone back to their initial opinion.  I didn't want to annoy everyone by changing the day again, but it must have been worrying me because I woke on Monday morning in the middle of a weird dream about pouring rain, a leaking roof and trying desperately to find Dorothy's phone number in old address books to warn her that we would be arriving late . . . and, to add to the confusion, it all took place in the house we lived in twenty years ago in Kloof!

 

    After meeting at Clay Head near Baldrine, we drove to Douglas Head.  There was a slight sprinkling of rain as we drove along the Promenade but nothing serious.  The first photograph shows the view across the bay from Douglas Head with the one of the SeaCats tied up at the jetty.

 

 

 

  It was a grey, overcast day - not quite raining but with a few darker, more ominous clouds lurking around.  We walked down the hill and found the steep steps down to the quay. We passed an elderly man (even older than us) running up the steps.  His morning exercise regime was obviously a lot more energetic than our leisurely stroll. 

 

  We crossed over the new Millennium Bridge which replaced an earlier pedestrian bridge.

 

  Then we walked past the Sea Terminal and along the Promenade.  Poor Leo had his tail firmly down because he is a country boy at heart and doesn't like traffic or strange people or having to walk on the lead . . .  and he was having to endure all three at once.  As soon as possible we took him down onto the sands for a short run.  Douglas beach, like a number of the other Island beaches, is closed to dogs after ten o'clock during the summer months.  It was just before ten and the only other people on the beach were accompanied by dogs - so we only bent the rules slightly.  Leo was delighted and cheered up immediately.

 

    After leaving the beach, we returned to the northern section of the Promenade.  As we approached Port Jack, we passed the remains of Summerland in the final stages of demolition.  Not many people will mourn its passing.  It was an incredibly ugly building and was the site of a tragic fire in 1973 - but, small children are not concerned with history, or architectural pretensions, and our grandchildren probably have happy memories of the little indoor playground . . .  Manxland. 

 

 

 

 

    After walking up the road to Onchan Head we turned off onto a footpath running between the top of the cliffs and the luxury apartment complexes.  Our route looped back to the road, skirting a small rather desolate bay.   It is marked on the map as Onchan Harbour but there were no boats sheltering there and no evidence that there ever had been.  Soon we turned off onto another section of footpath with views to the south past Onchan Head to Douglas Bay.  Onchan used to be a small village but has turned into a dormitory suburb of Douglas.

 

 

 

    Our footpath was again between "civilization" and the top of the cliffs and it seemed to have a schizophrenic character with neat suburban gardens on the left and wild, bramble and bracken covered slopes falling away to cliffs on the right.

 

 

 

    We rejoined the coast road near Howstrake - the site of much earlier holiday memories than Summerland.  There used to be a holiday camp on the hillside here, above Groudle Glen.  The Howstrake Holiday Camp started as a "male-only tented village" over a hundred years ago.  It was used by the RAF as a music school during the second world war - and was eventually closed down permanently after some of the buildings were destroyed by fire in 1980.  We stopped for a tea break in the "Howstrake Holiday Camp Station", the old waiting room at the tram halt.  It is rather dilapidated but sections of the benches were still intact and it provided welcome shelter from the wind and threatening rain.  

 

  Trevor told us a story about a tunnel under the road from the holiday camp and a tramp and his dog who used to live there.  When we walked down the road towards the Groudle turnoff, we found that the tunnel still existed.  We could look down at one end but the other end appeared to be obscured by trees.    Reading about the places that we visit on the walk is sometimes almost as interesting as the walk itself.  While I was finding information about the camp at Howstrake, I realised how much misinformation is published.  Wikipedia, which is never the most reliable of sources, claimed that the fire at the holiday camp was in 1985 (five years too late) and that "In the late 19th century it caused scandal by becoming the first camp on the island available to both sexes".  This date, when women were first admitted, is about forty years too early according to Mike Caine's well-researched website -  http://www.mike-caine.com/howstrake-howstrake-camp/   I am sure Mike Caine is right but I did rather prefer the fictional story about the Victorian scandal!  On Mike's site, I also found the answer to the purpose of the old entrance gates on the opposite side of the tracks to the "station", which apparently lead nowhere.  They were the entrance to Howstrake Park, Victorian pleasure gardens, which were in two sections above and below the road and were linked by the tunnel.

 

    The next section of the walk was through Groudle Glen.  There are some holiday homes there now and we also saw an application for planning permission for a single, detached residence nailed to a tree near the site of the old holiday camp.  The views are lovely . . .  out to sea or across the glen to the farmland to the north .  There is a narrow gauge railway on the opposite side of the glen.  It was originally built in 1896 at the height of the tourist boom but has been restored and is manned by volunteers on weekends.  It used to take holiday-makers to a small zoo at the Sea Lion Rocks.   Fortunately the zoo was closed down before the second world war because the sea lions and bears were kept in appalling conditions.

 

 

 

    After climbing out of Groudle Glen, we walked along minor tarred roads until we reached the turn-off to the Ballanette Wetlands Trust.  The headquarters of a plumbing and building services company are situated in some renovated farm buildings on this site and a number of small dams have been established in the surrounding farmland.  On one of the dams, we saw a couple of moorhens - and a pair of swans with their family of "ugly ducklings"

 

 

 

   Unlike most footpaths through farmland - where hikers are lucky to be tolerated and occasionally have to fight their way through ankle-deep mud or brambles and nettles - the path was well-maintained.  Hikers are welcome at Ballanette.  There was even a sign inviting us into the building to shelter from the rain, or use their toilets or have a cup of tea!  We didn't take up their offer because there were a few drops of rain around and we were in a hurry to get back to the cars.  A bit further on there was another nice gesture - a tap and a couple of mugs for the use of thirsty passers-by and even a bowl of water for passing canine-hikers.

 

    Where the footpath joined the end of the Clay Head road, we met some intrepid hikers wearing full wet-weather kit.  They were wise - because we got back to our car just before the serious rain started and it was raining hard all the way to Douglas when we drove back to fetch Trevor's car.