Lonely on the IoM?

Not me. I have family deluxe, since we were joined by my brother, his wife and their 40kg farting rottweiler this morning. However, obviously, some people don’t have the luxury of companionship (whether or not it’s a flatulent canine) and may require some assistance in avoiding loneliness.

Step forward Google Ads. They identified that there were posts about the Isle of Man on 6000 miles… and that the site was therefore likely to attract people from the Isle of Man. And that some (or more) of those people from the Isle of Man may be lonely, single or ugly. Or all three.

And they suggested: Isle of Man Fish Dating.

I haven’t delved too deeply (if you’ll excuse the pun), as the “woman” with the fishbowl in her hand on the front page scared me off by being too manly. I’m not sure why anyone would want to date a fish, but I have heard that there are certain genres of Japanese “adult entertainment” which revolve around octopuses. Maybe this is similar?
Cod only knows.

The UK Dating Group which runs this odd contact site is also responsible for lovegundating.co.uk which urges you to “Just point and click” and is designed for those individuals who lose it it bit when relationships end.  Especially those with access to firearms. Shockingly, all the faces on the lovegundating site are the same as those on the IOMfishdating site. Maybe they only have 7 members. Still, that’s three happy couples.

And Penny (49), who is destined to remain single. Forever.


Child labour on the Isle of Man.

‘Concentrate’ – original upload

It’s all about getting your stripes in a straight line when you’re mowing the lawn with Granddad.

Torchwood: Children of Earth

Three minutes until the final episode.

Here’s my best guess. They are about to hand over the 10% of the planet’s children to The 456 and then this giant salmon appears from nowhere and drops onto Thames House. Terrifying.
And there’s a tent and some jam. Lots of jam. And some rabbits.

After the jam and the rabbits… who can say?

But possibly some After Eight mints.
Always a nice way to round an evening off.

2009 KiTT: The story so far

I have finally managed to get around to using the ultra fast internet here on the Isle of Man to upload the first few photos of the 2009 Kids in Tow Tour to flickr. And not only that, but these are also the first batch taken with my new Panasonic Lumix DMC-FZ28. And I love it.

Calf Sound, Isle of Man

The weather is sunny, but the northwest wind is keeping it cool. But get out of the breeze and it’s lovely. And though we’ve only been here for 24 hours, it feels like forever: this place relaxes you instantly. We were down by the sea this morning, watching the seals and for about 2 hours, we just did nothing. Any parent will tell you how rare and precious that sort of time is.

The boy, born and brought up in suburban Cape Town, is in his element. There is space, fresh air, farm animals, birds, sea, rocks to scramble over, grandparents and a plastic tool kit that his Auntie Jane bought him. This morning he went up to the farm with Grandma to collect the milk. The rural equivalent of 7/11 – this stuff comes unpasteurised in churns, not in plastic cartons.

Now, as I sit inside this beautifully renovated 18th century cottage, tapping away on a rather posh laptop, I can see the family beginning a game of cricket outside in the sun. It seems foolish not to join them.

Until next time…

P.S. Thanks to all of you who have forwarded me Louise Taylor‘s hysterical piece in the Guardian on visiting South Africa for the World Cup next year.

She suggests that Egypt should have hosted the tournament. That’s Egypt which polled a mighty zero votes when they were selecting the host nation. Yes, Louise knows all about democracy.

As she says, “surely if the Egyptians could build the pyramids they could host a World Cup?” Yes, Louise knows all about hosting major sporting events.

And then, the piece de la resistance. Those four little words: “I’ve never been, but…”.

Yes, Louise knows all about South Africa.

Back home on the Isle of Man

After a short trip to the ghastly Gatwick airport and the bumpy flight over the UK and the Irish Sea, followed by the most horrendous landing ever, I feel profoundly lucky to be safely “home” in the Isle of Man. Not many people know that I almost died here, on a runway at Ronaldsway Airport just after 1pm this afternoon. But it was not to be.

I’ve seen four airports over the past few days. Four very different airports.

Cape Town is in a state of development ahead of the 2010 World Cup. And while it looks pretty spectacular and is already a huge improvement on the previously dated and rather ramshackle terminals. One slight issue is the thick dust, which is covering everything – including the cars in the long stay car park, which are well on their way to becoming fossilised. Every car park ticket comes with a free car wash. Or at least it should.

And then the much maligned Terminal Five at Heathrow. Well, I was completely impressed. Quick, clean (although I probably still had Cape Town on my mind) and very modern and stylish. We sped through in record time via the internal transit train thing and then spent all the time we’d saved watching the dancing fountains outside the terminal building.

Photo by LightReflections on flickr

From the sublime to the ridiculous: Gatwick. Aging, poorly designed, ugly, overcrowded and full of chavs. The humourless security people made me take my belt and shoes off and then laughed as my jeans fell down. So not completely humourless then. But I didn’t find it funny. Shuffling across the apron in the kerosene-stained drizzle was even less fun. And difficult with my trousers round my ankles.

And then little Ronaldsway. I’d love to tell you all about it, but I was still stunned by the utterly appalling landing by the apparently novice pilot in the blustery crosswinds.

The Isle of Man is still as pretty as I always remembered it to be. But it seems even more beautiful when you thought you were never going to see anything ever again. I’d even have settled for another afternoon in Gatwick departures lounge.