Castletown to Port St. Mary Without a Whinge

As a family, we started walking in about 2001, looking for something worthwhile on the 'new-fangled' day off Mrs. George had fought to be awarded to me.

Matthew and Elizabeth were already old enough to decide that this strange activity wasn't really for them and although young Terence loved it from the beginning, it was a taste that Lucy struggled to acquire. Many a time, after about 15 minutes, she would be complaining and start to utter the phrase that will be familiar to a million parents: 'Are we there yet?'

In fairness to her, there were occasions when she would really get the bit between her teeth and on one occasion on the climb from Niarbyl to the summit of Cronk-ny-Arrey-Laa (437m/1400') she left us all behind her in the rain and loved it but this wasn't really the norm.

So, a few weeks ago when she coincidentally happened to land in Castletown at the same time as we were enjoying a pre-expedition coffee, I invited her along with us, not for a minute thinking she would want to and I can't say it wasn't without trepidation that we set off along the road to Scarlett.

One of the enjoyable things about exploring the Isle of Man is the varied scenery and geology that have in such a small area and this stretch of coastline is unlike the rugged spectacular cliffs of the South West and the East and very different to the sandy areas in the West and North.

In the photo above you can see the quarry which provided much of the limestone used to build Castletown and the kilns are still existing on the shoreline.

The visitor centre here is open from Tuesday to Sunday from May until September.

A little further along the path, there is Scarlett Point Radio Tower. This was originally a Coastguard watch point which was decommissioned in 1971. It fell into disrepair until it was restored by a group of amateur radio enthusiasts who have also now added a couple of webcams: http://www.scarlettpoint.com/

There is a lot of bird life and flora and it was very pleasant on this spring day as the sun began to poke through the clouds. We then headed around towards Bay ny Carricker, often referred to erroneously as Gansey Bay which is the lovely little beach at the other side of the inlet.

Having passed Pooil Vaaish, the quarry from which Bishop Wilson reputedly donated the steps for St Pauls Cathedral in London, to be honest it is a little untidy and the farm area looks like it could do with some clearing but beyond that is a little farm shop with an honesty box.

By Isle of Man standards, this is one of the flatter walks and the next couple of miles is alongside the road which can be a little noisy. However, the Shore Hotel is well worth a visit and by this time we had worked up both hunger and thirst.

There is a great view from the public bar which has great character as it is built with reclaimed materials and you can have fun sitting and working out what the individual components once were. There is a separate restaurant and the kitchen and toilet areas have recently been extended. The reclamation theme has been continued into the loos. Did you ever see urinals like these?

Unfortunately, although we were able to have a drink, they were very busy, so rather than wait as had been suggested, we were keen to continue our journey. However, I can recommend the food as Irene and I ate there two weeks previously.

A few hundred metres later, past Gansey, you can once again get off the main road and follow the Raad ny Foillan around the point and into Port St. Mary Bay. This is another great beach, though it isn't as popular as Port Erin or Peel, perhaps because there are less facilities. One of the sadder sights is the Balqueen Hotel which has remained unused for almost as long as I can remember but once once amongst the most prestigious on the Island.

One of my favourite parts of this walk is the Cat Walk which was damaged quite badly in a storm a few years ago but which has now been mended by the Commissioners http://www.panoramio.com/photo/39729215

Eventually, we landed in the beer garden of the Albert Hotel from where we were able to have toasties and a few beers, much required after our walk and barely a stagger from the bus stop.

And Lucy? She was great company and had hardly a cross word to say despite having to keep up with the 'Exercise Freaks.'

Once again, showing my technical prowess, unfortunately, I failed to work out the distance on 'Googlemaps' because it kept wanting take me along the road but I'm guessing about 6 miles/10k.

Final Parish Walk

Well, that's it!

The Parish Walk is over once more for another year and forever for me.

You'll be shocked to hear that no one actually believes that statement!

However, after 9 finishes, 8 of them attempting (and failing 7 times) to win and to be honest, I've had enough of the level of effort required to be at the sharp end of the event, not to mention risking permanent injury to the knee I'd been operated on.

I've even reneged on my promise to do a lap with Irene in 2016!

(St German ((Peel)) being interviewed for Manx Radio by Amy Griffiths)

Unfortunately, I didn't quite go out in the blaze of glory that I'd been hoping for but under the circumstances, I was very pleased to come 2nd in 15:04.

This year, I hadn't really been on the money in training and I was very disappointed with my 50k race in Slovakia in March but just put that down to trying to go a little too quickly on a warm day.

However, my times just weren't what they should have been throughout my preparation and at the 10,000m championships in May, I was almost 5 minutes above my best and received some negative comments about my technique. This was was the catalyst for having my blood tested and sure enough, it was found that I was lacking in iron and my blood count was low.

Unfortunately and frustratingly, due to a clerical error, there was a delay in me receiving the results and I had to go for a 2nd test.

Panic was starting to grip and then just 3 weeks and 6 days before Parish, I was well down the field in the Northern 10 Miles and was beaten by Richard Gerrard by 11 minutes, the big day looming large .

My old chum, sports masseur, therapist, personal trainer and top policeman, Mark Hempsall suggested the Hyperbaric Chamber. On the recommendation of David Downey who runs the facility, I was referred by Dr David Walker for a course of treatment which was extremely good of him as he is after all a rival as well as a friend.

Therefore, for two weeks, I spent an hour diving without the fishes. You are put into a pressurised container (with comfy seats,) air is pumped into it until you reach an equivalent pressure at the depth of 14.5m.

On the first occasion, I really struggled. It was a similar feeling I've previously experienced being in a plane about to land and it was if someone was tightening a steel band around my skull but I soon became used to it and the technician Dean Cooke watches you on video, should you need to stop at any time.

You also wear a mask and breathe pure oxygen, the theory being that you stimulate the red blood cells and that's why it helps heal injuries and in my case revitalises the blood count.

As those of you who saw my last blog will know, I made a late decision raise money the charity which receives only a small amount of support from Isle of Man Government. They help patients from all walks of life with a wide variety of different complaints, divers with decompression sickness have been flown in from all over the British Isle and although not everyone in medicine agrees, hyperbaric medicine's contribution to the welfare of the community is underrated and underfunded.

Unfortunately, my, 'Just Giving' page was unsuccessful with only £20 donated. However, using the old fashioned method of a form on the Reception desk, the generosity of friends and guests staying at the Welbeck added a further £233 with us adding another £100, which as you can see above, I handed to them the other day.

For more information, please see: http://www.hyperbaric.im/

Although I'd managed my first respectable training session, (3 x 3k @ 12kph) for quite some time, I had absolutely no idea as I stood on the start line whether I could be competitive or even last the 85 miles because with my recovery being so close to the race, I had no real way of testing if I was ready other than proving the pudding by eating it.

Everything felt fine on the day, though I knew that when Mr. Gerrard made the decisive break only 9 miles or so into the battle, I was unable to match his pace. He controlled the race brilliantly from the front and gradually extended his lead.

After the climb up Ballakillowey and the Sloc, he was 7 minutes ahead at Glen Rushen, so I decided that I had to reel him in a little if I was to remain in contention. Descending has always been a strong point of mine but unfortunately at this point, my ego overruled my brain and I pushed hard with the idea of striking a psychological blow by reducing his advantage considerably in a short period of time.

On the approach to Dalby 3 or 4 miles later, I had reduced the margin by a mere 17 seconds but more to the point, as the sun began to to add a little warmth to the occasion, I had expended far too much energy and struggled for the next 10k or so to recover and once again the gap widened, this time to 12 minutes.

What I hadn't realised was that Richard had also overworked himself a little, so finally I was beginning to hold the advantage and even eat into it a little on the other side of Peel. By Kirk Michael, I had reduced the deficit to 11 & 1/2 minutes. However, after Jurby, near the Lhen I think, I had the first of my three bouts of vomiting and thereafter, I didn't threaten the lead again.

It was very tough coming back down the East coast but the fact I wasn't wearing my spectacles kept me laughing at myself as I'd spot something totally bizarre like a modern building in a field or a judge/marshal hiding behind a shelter in the distance, then I would change my mind about 3 times about what it was before finally realising it was nothing more than a tree or a lamp post. At least I don't think I was hallucinating.

Relief finally came at 11:04 but not before my eyesight played one final trick. The Onchan Silver Band was playing as I approached the end and all I could see were lights around them toward the roadway. It occurred to me that the finish line must have been altered and moved to a new place, so I headed for them, only for Ray Cox to come sprinting out to re-direct me to where I'd been so many times before.

I would like to thank Graham & Martin Young for all their input over the years and of course Irene & my family for allowing me to go out and play

Congratulations to Richard Gerrard for being a worthy winner and lap record holder and also to Janette Morgan who claimed victory in the women's race for the second successive year too. In fact as Alex Eaton and Danielle Oates won the u21 races to Peel, this was the first time that all 4 titles had been retained. It is a source of pride that the latter two are products of Manx Harriers junior coaching programme run by Elizabeth Corran with which I have been associated to varying degrees since December 2004.



Thank you to Manx Telecom for their sponsorship of the event, Manx Harriers and the Parish Walk Commitee, Murray Lambden and all his photographers (I nicked them in the end but did try to buy them making a donation.)

Operating On All Cylinders for Hyperbaric Chamber

It's been an interesting few months in more ways than one with deaths in Irene's family, challenges a plenty at work and a mysterious loss in form in my racewalking despite seeming to train hard if slightly less than in previous years.

Despite the fact I've had to do long hours, I was feeling more tired than I would normally expect to and eventually decided to go for a blood test.

It turned out that my blood count was low and that I was also iron/ferritin deficient. Despite being prescribed ferrous sulphate, I was still not producing the goods and at the Northern 10 Miles a few weeks ago, I was a whopping 11 minutes down on my time from 2013.

Therefore, I'd like to say thank you to a very good friend and very sporting competitor who referred me to the Hyperbaric Chamber, possibly at the expense of a coveted Parish Walk top placing (I'd better mention at this stage that it was Mark Hempsall's idea or he'll never forgive me ;) ) and thanks to the staff there for managing to squeeze me in.

In the hope of generating some much needed cash for the charity, I have decided at the eleventh hour to ask for sponsorship to show my gratitude, for this year's Manx Telecom Parish Walk. It's some time since I have tried to raise money, as I realise that many people may think they are being constantly badgered to donate all the time but I hope you will agree with me that it is very necessary to safeguard this marvellous facility for the future.

www.justgiving.com/Michael-George4

Maturing Like A Fine Wine? No Just Making a Spectacle of Myself

There is an inevitability that as we become older our faculties, mental and physical, eventually begin to diminish but there are many ways in which we can fight against this and in sport, in the workplace and in many other areas, there are fine examples of people holding back the years competing with and against others decades their junior as well as just proudly continuing to do what they do or find new pursuits in which to excel.

And then there is me.

For those of you who don't know me, I was a late starter in athletics (and those of you who do know me will know that I've been often been late on the start line as well as the calendar) and didn't really find my event until about 10 years ago when I began racewalking.

Last night, I managed to squeeze in a 10k training walk before going to a yoga class to try and keep the straining, stiff muscles young and lithe.

All was going swimmingly well in a contorted sort of way until the end of the session, when having dressed I realised that I didn't have my glasses.

It was a little embarrassing because I'd just managed to secure a lift off my friend, Marie Jackson and there I was engaging everyone in the Studio to try and find them, delaying her in the process.

Quite frankly, it was ridiculous that they could have disappeared because there wasn't anywhere I could have left them that we hadn't checked.

To be honest, they don't owe me anything and their replacement is overdue, so eventually I gave up and left because as well as stopping Marie going home, it was about time I left too.

I'd eaten a lovely bowl of soup that my wife, Irene had prepared for me and decided it was time to shower, so I took off my cap and down the stairs bounced my spectacles, thankfully undamaged and probably quite bemused as to why they had just spent the last hour folded on top of my head instead of behind my ears and perched on my big conk!

Getting older but definitely not better, though in fairness, I have spent nearly half a century doing stupid things. I do worry about me though ;)

A Promenade To Be Proud Of (Well by 2020 Anyway)

On this occasion, I've don the reverse of what I usually do as this blog posting was placed on Facebook last night. I apologise if I'm boring you.

My chum Murray Lambden will be chuffed to see this sight.

A Douglas Promenade without a car to be seen! Yippee!

Mind you, having seen plans of the revamp today, I doubt it will ever again look as spacious as this. Having said that, I believe the they have achieved a balance that will certainly not please everyone but will be a huge improvement on what we have had for at least the last 30 years.

The horse trams will be on Loch Prom but then move to the current road at the war memorial.

The entire area from Villiers to Castle Mona Avenue will have no traffic lights, no formal crossings, no kerbs and very few ugly road signs. A shared area along the lines of the experiments in Holland and I believe Poynton Cheshire where I lived for a year when I was 4.

It's a very bold concept and I hope their foresight will reward all of us and our visitors to the Island.

It relies on its users, encouraged by their cleverly designed surroundings to drive and walk responsibly even making eye contact with their fellow human beings.

Have you ever heard people comment on how well the traffic flows when the lights aren't working? Well this takes the concept to a whole new almost entirely level level.

Below is a link to an explanation of the how it should all work in practice and I believe the plans for Douglas will be at the Sea Terminal tomorrow.

https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DX3B2BaeP1W8&h=QAQGKdUMZ

Presumably, anyone from across will be able to view these plans 'Online' as soon as they are officially lodged with the 'Planning Committee' later this month.

Here's Hoping My Absence Has Your Hearts Grow Fonder

Greetings Starving Blogophiles!

Please accept my apologies but the first third of the year has passed in a flash, culminating in the sad death of my mother-in-law, Irene O'Brien whom many of our older guests and friends may remember from when she lived at the Hotel for a few years.

The last decade or so, saw her bear great pain but always with a laugh, a smile on her face and a sharp quip to follow, so we'll miss her for certain but also feel a sense of relief at her release from this World. She was incredibly brave.

So, it's been a bit of a traumatic year for Irene & her family, with the loss of her brother in January as well but we're still here all set for a busy season at the Welbeck.

Well, I say that we're still here and indeed, Terence (youngest son) is back from his travels in Australia but Lucy (youngest daughter) has left to join Barclays Bank. As most of you will know, she wanted to start working here from about the age of three, so it is very odd not to have her around.

Hopefully, over the next couple of weeks, I will redeem myself and produce another few missives and find the time to do something to write about!!!

Near CATastrophe!!!

It's certainly is a challenging start to the year business wise and it's also been a sad one for us with the death of Irene's brother Anthony in January.

Anthony had two rescue cats from Doha but fortunately, the woman who had saved them was still on hand and able to take them in on a temporary basis. Despite the fact she was a little concerned that we already have a cat, it was decided to fly them to the Island.

Our first shock, when I picked up their box from the cargo terminal at the Airport was the sheer weight of them as our Percy is a very dainty lady, especially compared to these two. They are also very vocal, once again as opposed to our pet who either tends to give a quiet miaow or a little warble.

And so, Zaffi & Ginger were introduced into our home.

For the first few days, we barely saw them as they were experts at hiding in the tiniest nooks and crannies in the room that we had given them, despite their size but it soon emerged that there was no doubting that Zaffi was the boss.

They were quite nervous but gradually we were able to coax them out.

Percy had been aware that something was occurring and was regularly at their door, where she couldn't have missed the racket they would make but was definitely less curious now they were free to roam a little more.

Initially, it seemed she was going to be bullying them because they were too timid to pass her growling and hissing but this situation was quickly reversed when Zaffi stood up for herself and then, Percy became very withdrawn, confining herself to just a few places within the house, even spending long hours under our quilt which she has never done before.

About a week ago, Percy decided she needed to go outside and we also decided to let Ginger have a wander for the first time; Zaffi wasn't interested. Ginger came straight back in but we couldn't persuade Percy to come back through the door, although she had come into the porch, despite the bribes we were offering and the next thing she made a break for it and before I could prevent him, Ginger too had dashed past me.

This time neither would return and though we were used to Percy being out for an hour or so, we were becoming a little concerned about the tom.

Therefore, dressed to kill, wearing her old green dressing gown, Irene went into the freezing cold night to try and retrieve them and managed to pick Ginger up and bring him in.

He'd always been a little nervous but this time he just ran behind the sofa and stayed there and for some reason Zaffi was giving him a hard time too.

We began to fear when our Percy hadn't turned up the next morning that she had cut her losses and decided to leave home. Irene was becoming very worried that her what she had hoped was the right thing to do was just a total disaster.

I prepared a stack of 'Missing Cat' flyers and posters to hand around our neighbourhood and just as we were leaving home to start canvassing the nearby houses on our square, our feline loving chums and colleagues, Sha & Alex turned up to help us with our rain drenched search.

They weren't the only ones who turned up because there, just behind Irene, a bedraggled, soggy moggy popped out of next door's garden and we once again had our full complement of cats...............or so we thought.

Ginger had continued to act very strangely and wasn't moving from behind that couch, stalked at all times by a very suspicious and not at all friendly Zaffi which we thought was very strange as they had always been so close.

I needed something from the kitchen and walked past the front door where there was a big ginger cat. But I had only two seconds ago looked at our Ginger behind the sofa. I did a double take and thinking I was cracking up went back to the sofa where there was a big ginger cat.

The one that had just arrived was also wearing a green collar which had his name and our telephone number on it. The poor big ginger cat behind the sofa had been forcibly 'catnapped' off the street and had spent nearly 24 hours being traumatised, frightened half to death by Zaffi and his/her strange human captors, not to mentioned half starved as I don't think it had ventured anywhere near the food.

To this day, I haven't seen it again, so goodness knows how we have affected it. It's possibly been locked up by its owners whom I have been unable to trace to apologise to.

Anyway, one week on, we still have a very easy going Ginger, a very bossy Zaffi and our Percy who still hasn't come to terms with the presence of her new housemates (as we are assured by Mann Cat Sanctuary she eventually will.) Whether she will ever forgive us fully is another matter!