GO! Mo'bike!

I've been here for a week now. I arrived in the middle of the night, and it was Cold. Oh well, I thought, I'm sure it won't be this cold the whole time, and at least it's not raining. Heh.

On the first day, I did the first thing one does in foreign places and found out where I was in relation to the most important parts of the city. So I went for a walk and (eventually - my poor feet!) found the race circuit. Then I went and bought a map (should have done THAT earlier) and found my way to the centre of the city. Both of these things are about 5 or 10mins walk from the place I'm staying at. It's pretty brilliant.

The next day I went a little further afield, and found the grandstand. I bought myself a nice warm polar fleece jacket with TT written all over it, and got a free cap! I also bought myself a ticket to the grandstand for Saturday's race, the 1000cc Superbike class. These are bikes which can be changed from road bikes in any way you like, except you have to use the same frame as one you buy in the shop. This effectively limits the power at a certain amount, because if you get too much torque, it twists the frame! MotoGP bikes, the next step up, are built from scratch and don't necessarily have anything in common with one you buy in a shop. Like the Britten bike.

When I arrived at the home stay, Mrs Cartmell gave me all these leaflets about things to see and do on the Isle of Man, which, she told me, came with the homestay pack, from the Government*. Added to the pile I had picked up at the port, I now have quite a library. One of these pamphlets mentioned a wildflower garden at St Johns, where they also had a little arts and crafts place, and something called Tynwald Green. I thought the garden sounded nice so I jumped on a bus on Tuesday and went out there. Well, I found a garden. It looked like it hadn't been gardened for ages, and it was pretty poky and boring. Didn't have any wildflowers either. Turns out, this was because I had the wrong garden.

The craft centre was boring, unsurprisingly, and it was actually quite a walk down this pathway. That was a very nice walk though - like walking through a leafy tunnel. As I walked back up it, I noticed a little plaque stuck in the stone wall, half hidden under ferns and moss. I had a look, and it said that I was looking at a bronze-age tomb. I took a few steps back into the road (not a very hazardous thing to do in the Isle of Man, even when there are 40,000 extra people here!) and lo and behold, there was an upright slab of rock set in to the wall, which was topped with another slab... it really was an ancient tomb! Just hangin' out, looking like part of a wall. Choice.

The Tynwald Green is this grass lawn with a stepped mound at one end of it. It is used once a year for a meeting of all the Islanders to pass any new laws. It is the longest surviving open parliament in the world! That's pretty cool.

The next day I went on a steam train! It looked just like Thomas! But without the face, of course... I got off at a place called Castletown, where they have the most well preserved medieval (wait for it...) castle in the world. It was so cool - it was a real one. And then I took the steam train back. That was an awesome day.

I did a bit of walking around Douglas on Thursday, took a train up the mountain (they only have one. It didn't have snow but was Really Cold up there) and discovered the BEST ICECREAM FLAVOUR IN THE WORLD (it's called toffee crunch, and it's like a cross between maple walnut and hokey pokey: maple flavoured ice cream with bits of toffee in. Ohhhh *drool*) on Friday, and stayed in bed with a hangover on Saturday. You may think I missed a few steps there, and you'd be right.

Those steps are the practices. Every evening from 6pm till about 9ish when the light begins to go, they close the roads (the race circuit is on normal roads) and let the racers practice. I went out to each of them, trying out different spots for viewing. I met a few different people at some of them. On Friday I went down to the Quarterbridge, which is a section of the course where they turn a corner from one long straight-ish to another long straight-ish. I sat on a grass bank along with plenty of other spectators, waiting for the practice to start. It didn't. I could make out from the speakers that there was a delay for some reason or another, but I wasn't sure when it would start. Eventually I got bored waiting, and saw the pub across the way sitting there, looking all beguiling. So I went down and got a pint. While I was in the (rather large) queue/mob of bored punters trying to get beer, I asked this guy if he knew when the practice would start. He did, and we got talking, and he found out I was on my own, and asked if I wanted to join him and his friends. They had a good spot, so I did. Then there were rounds. Rounds of pints. I should have learnt by now. There is still a lot of beer in a pint. A whole pint of it.

I woke up on Saturday morning when my alarm went off, and dragged myself up to the freezing cold grandstand to watch the race - I had bought a ticket for it, so I had to be there. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling very well. The only breakfast I had had was in reverse, and there was no juice (my preferred hangover cure). So I sat there, and waited while the race was delayed and delayed (fog on the mountain road section of the course), with nothing to distract me from how terrible I felt. And then they cancelled it. The weather was closing in, so they moved it to Monday instead, and I could go back to bed! I did a fairly good job of concealing my glee, went back down to my homestay, and spent the rest of the day sleeping or reading. It was great.

On Sunday I went and saw a ruined castle. The weather was still awful, but it was still a cool ruin. Even the shockingly dry and boring audio-guide of the place wasn't enough to put me off it.

Monday it was the day of the superbike race. Again. I went back up to the grandstand, in much better humour this time, and the weather, which had been looking a bit iffy, eventually co-operated. Unfortunately, the Kiwi's machine didn't. Bruce Anstey, who wins a lot of things here, had a clutch problem with his superbike and had to resign from the race before he even made it to the first map-clock point (ask me to explain it if you're interested and don't know. I may have to use hand gestures).

McGuinness won (no surprise there) and another favourite of mine, Guy Martin, came second despite some appallingly slow pit stops. A local lad, just turned 21, called Conor Cummins was promoted from the 28th starter to the 10th due to some people being "non-starters" for whatever reason. This meant that he was going to be circulating with guys who were meant to be a lot faster than him. A gentleman next to me thought this was a recipie for disaster for Conor - he'd either lose heart and let everyone past or push too hard and come off - but I had read in the newspaper that he was supposed to be pretty quick, so I reserved judgement. He gained three full places and ended up 7th! Must have really annoyed some of the older guys! Hehe. Go Conor!

Today, Tuesday, was the second race. It was the 1000cc superstock class, which is different from the superbikes in that you can only make the bike go faster by adding things you can buy off the shelves. So basically these are pretty trick bikes, but ones that you or I (with a bit of financial persistence) could put together ourselves. Though not me - I'm not allowed.

At the first point where they have a commentator, in the first lap of four, Bruce Anstey (the Kiwi) was already leading by five seconds from the next fastest rider, John McGuinness. By the end of the lap he had set a new record for average lap speed, and then the lap after, he set another! (128.something mph) Neither of these were "flying" laps, either - the first was the start, and in the second he pitted. So it's pretty impressive. Unsurprisingly Anstey won the race, coming home with a tidy margin of time from McGuinness. Ian Hutchinson came third, and Guy Martin failed to finish. He will be furious at his pit crew: they were slow yesterday, and today they didn't put enough fuel in his bike for him to make it round to his pit stop! An ignominious end for the "White Knight". Conor Cummins on the other hand acquitted himself beautifully, managing to pull a 6th place.

Tomorrow is the supersport (such stupid appellations for the classes - they're all super! I'm thooper, thanks for asking! Gah. It means 600cc bikes.) and on Friday it's Senior TT day, where you can ride any of your "super" bikes, regardless of which "super" class they're in. I will be watching Anstey, Martin and Cummins in both races: McGuinness is very good, but meh, I don't want him to win. Go Kiwi!


*In an aside, the Government here seems to be quite benign. They do all sorts of nice things like making the Island a tax haven (whatever that involves), not requiring a WOF on your vehicle if it's registered here, having an open parliament, and letting me work even though I didn't get a work permit before entering the UK! So although I am leaving on Sunday, it may not be the last I see of the Isle of Man.