The multifarious Isle of Man is a compact world of contrast

Insight on the News, Jan 30, 1995 by David Walsh

Tourists still have room to roam on this island in the Irish Sea - a mere hour by plane from London - brimming with pubs, medieval castles, fields of heather and cats without tails.

A green dot in the roiling Irish Sea, the 12-by-18-mile Isle of Man is a delightful collection of curiosities and contradictions. Gnarled and evocative as its Viking ruins, this British dependency also is as modern as the supercomputers crunching numbers in its robust financial district.

Barely 70,000 people live on the isle, just under half of whom are "Manx" natives (the rest are expatriate Britons). Young or old, they're famously cheery and unfailingly polite, if tough-minded. While officially under the Commonwealth umbrella, the Manx personify what's meant by "fiercely independent." Ask them how they'd feel if the Crown were to, say, establish a military presence on the isle to deal with "the Troubles" in Northern Ireland? "Well," comes a typical answer, more jolting for its even delivery and sweet Manx lilt, "a cairse we'd fight 'em, go to the hills and form up. They'd regret it, ya know."

Although appointed by the monarch, the isle's governor and parliament enact their own laws and print their own currency. And handsome tender it is; unfortunately, it's useless abroad, even in the rest of Britain. "Best trade 'em in before leaving to avoid any embarrassment, lad," admonished our cabbie, typically accepting a mix of local and British money. As for U.S. dollars, the island is awash in them.

The Manx native language, an ancient version of Gaelic, also is unique to the isle. Schools are trying to reestablish it, since standard English has overwhelmed it in all but the most remote regions. Likewise, Manx cats are unusual - they have no tails. Experts insist the condition is a natural mutation and can be found in cats the world over; here, however, the nature of island living has limited the feline bloodlines. But what about the isle's tropical palm trees? That flummoxed us, until we learned the Isle of Man is in the Gulf Stream.

Because the island exports little besides its world-class smoked kippers, tourism has been the draw for the past 100 years. For such a small place, the array of pastimes is astonishing - and everything is of manageable scale, blending with the landscape. Consider the isle's capital, Douglas. Tourists can take in the full sweep of its curving beachside promenade (the "Prom") by horse trolly, relaxing as the enormous dray horse clip-clops past the Victorian bed-and-breakfasts, pubs and shopping arcades. To seek out the town's quainter aspects or its marvelous curiosity shops, one should pull on the old hiking boots. Streets rise suddenly behind the bay-front facades and may daunt the out-of-shape.

If the steep roadway only whets your appetite, stride purposely toward the "Raad ny Foillan," or Gulls Road, a 90-mile scenic route that winds through the whole island over heathered glens, rocky palisades and barren heights. Bird-watchers, flower fanciers and others can take shorter, organized walks. If walking or bicycling is a chore, hire a car. They're cheap, light and zippy, perfect for negotiating the narrow, stonewall-lined roads.

Forget the driving for a while if you've quaffed a pint or three, which you'll want to do when visiting the comfy, oak-paneled pubs. The stouts, bitters and lagers are as alcohol-rich as they are delicious; "light" beers virtually are unavailable and widely abominated. Teetotalers might try Monsoon, a curious bottled elixir made from elderflowers, lemon and soda water. (If you do make a "pub crawl," know that the courts have zero tolerance for drunken driving and most other infractions. Crime barely exists on the Isle of Man. Young women leave discos alone at 3 a.m. The local paper carries car-stereo thefts on the front page.)

Children are much-adored. Many businesses - even Barclay's Bank in downtown Douglas - have jungle gyms and toys in their lobbies. Restaurants (many operating in private homes) maintain playrooms for little ones. If they get lonely while their parents dine, a waitress is likely to romp with them.

As for food, there is plenty, nearly all farm-fresh or just-caught. Isle dishes generally are fat- and cholesterol-laden or, in a word, fabulous. Local restauranteurs favor variations on the continental themes, with emphasis on cream dishes. Fish, filet of lamb with puff pastry and blackened Cajun dishes work well. Another highlight is the traditional Manx/English breakfast: ham, link sausage, stewed tomatoes, fresh fruit, mushrooms, baked beans, gammon (pork), fried eggs, kippered herring and black or white pudding (patties made from offal - an acquired taste) all piled upon a single plate.

The local grills and "carveries," where traditional wasted meats can be had, are all wonderful, although the Celtic-named Min-e-Don is a cut above the others, not only in quality and taste but in the portions. The dense stews are brilliant. Much the same can be said for Sefton Hotel's restaurant and for the many small hostelries scattered about. Fish lovers must order the Sulby River trout at Scott's Tavern in Douglas, built about 1770 and the Isle of Man's oldest commercial establishment. Staggeringly good and, like most meals on the island, inexpensive.