Groudle Glen and Bradda Head

Friday 10th April 2026

On the last day of my holiday, with bad weather approaching, I thought I would adopt the plan that I had formulated for my first day on the Isle of Man, but not used, which explores the wooded glens to the north of the capital city, Douglas, so I set off along the Raad ny Foillan, the coastal footpath. After passing the southern terminus of the Electric Railway, I branched off the main road onto Seacliff Road around Onchan Head and before returning to the main road took to a path that branched down into a pretty, little harbour, thinking there would be a path out on the other side; there wasn’t. It was a great, lovely path, decorated with many wild flowers, but eventually I had to retrace my steps all the way back up and onto the main road. The coastal footpath continued beyond the harbour on a path that skirted the narrow gap between the sea cliffs and the back gardens of people’s houses, and was lined with flowers that had escaped those gardens including three-cornered garlic and Spanish bluebells. Back on the main road, I followed that past building work on my right and into Groudle Glen, which I had been in last year, but I had no hesitation in returning to a fabulous wooded valley that I once again found entrancing. Wood anemones decorated the banks of the stream of beautiful Groudle Glen, with bluebells just beginning to appear, as I slowly wandered along the path absorbing the tranquil surroundings while taking many pictures.

As the sun went in, I continued up the glen, which narrowed past a waterwheel and under a bridge with more wild flowers decorating the banks as I made my way along the excellent, well-made footpath eventually reaching a wider area where the river does a dramatic meander with woodland plants covering the floor, until finally I passed under White Bridge and into Molly Quirk’s Glen. Soon, I crossed the Groudle River and took to a path that climbed beside the road and is called the Bibaloe Walk. I had not taken this path before, but there was not much to see, just a few primroses, and soon I emerged onto the road. I had planned on retracing my steps into the valley, but now that I was there I decided to take a footpath that crosses several grassy fields and brought me to a minor road where I descended increasingly steeply into Molly Quirk’s Glen. When I had reached this end of the valley last year I had been confronted with a sign that the path through the glen was closed due to fallen trees, but now much work had been carried out and I was able to follow the path beside the small river through the glen, which was a lovely place, but possibly not up to the stupendously high standards of Groudle Glen, or some of the other valleys that I had seen on this holiday. Eventually I returned to White Bridge where I followed the road through Onchan and back onto the promenade in Douglas.

Despite the weather forecast, the sun was out again, which provided me with a pleasant walk around the bay until I reached the ferry terminal where I booked an earlier service for the next day, due to the coming bad weather over the weekend, and then made my way to the steam railway station. I was mindful of the fact that I was soon going to be leaving the Isle of Man and I hadn’t visited Port Erin, at the far end of the steam railway, so I caught the train and by the time I reached my destination the promised bad weather was finally becoming apparent, though it wasn’t raining yet. A tower sits on Bradda Head, to the north of Port Erin Bay, and when I was there last year I had been short of time so I hadn’t taken the opportunity to visit the tower. Now, I thought I would have time to do so, though I would have to rush so I could catch the train back to Douglas, so I hurried through the streets of Port Erin and through an archway marked Bradda Glen, across the hillside north of the bay past many wild flowers and onto the open hill to reach Milner’s Tower. Immediately, I set off up the spiral staircase to the top of the tower where I took some pictures under the overcast skies, before heading back down and along the road to reach the railway station in Port Erin.

This was a disjointed day, starting with a shortened version of the walk that I had initially planned for the previous Sunday followed by an excursion on the steam train interspersed by a hurried dash up Bradda Head. The weather for my holiday this year on the Isle of Man was not great, certainly not as good as it had been the previous year, and the wild flower mix seen this year was different, mainly because of being three weeks earlier. The Isle of Man is such a fabulous place for walking that arguably I need to go back again some time. I have loved walking through the wooded glens, which are filled with stunning displays of wild flowers and I’m sure there are more for me to see, and with more of the coastal path still to walk, I’m sure I will be drawn back to the Isle of Man eventually.

The Steam Heritage Trail

Thursday 9th April 2026

My knee started to hurt on the previous day’s walk. I don’t know what I had done to aggravate it because it started to hurt as soon as I started the walk and it just got worse as the day progressed. At the start of this walk my knee was feeling stiff and ideally I should have been resting it, but I find that difficult to do when I’m on holiday and the only thing I want to do is walk. Since the weather had deteriorated I felt that I could rest it by doing a relatively easy walk by walking along the Steam Heritage Trail, which runs along the course of an old railway that used to run between the city of Douglas, on the Isle of Man, and the town of Peel. I wanted to do this trail when I first came to the Isle of Man last year, but I felt it was too easy when there are many more exciting walks to do on this wondrous island. Now, with the poor weather and my dodgy knee, I thought this would be the best time to do it, so with drizzle in the air I made my way through Douglas from my accommodation to Quarter Bridge where I joined the start of the trial, which initially runs along a tarmac road alongside the busy main road. After I left the road, plunging into gorgeous woodland surroundings, wild garlic dominated the scene, though it wasn’t in flower yet, unlike at Easter last year. Wood anemones could also be seen and at Union Mills I could see some early flowering bluebells, as well as primroses and celandines.

The trail never strayed far from the River Dhoo and the best displays were often on its banks. Soon, the rain cleared and after passing Glen Vine blue sky appeared ahead of me, however, it wasn’t to last. Walking along an old railway line soon gets monotonous as there is little change in the view and the gradient is flat, which was helping my knee, but was tedious to walk upon. With nothing to interest me I just disengaged my brain and kept repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other, appreciating the wild scenery as it passed. Between Crosby and Greeba the ground by the side of the path was very water-logged, marshy, which helped the growth of marsh marigold whose bright, yellow flowers provided a welcome decoration. After passing St Johns, soon after passing over the River Neb, I branched right off the trail, despite having several more miles to go into Peel, to follow the course of the old railway line that used to run up the coast, around the hills and eventually reach the town of Ramsey. The Steam Heritage Trail had kept to the low ground between the hills in the north of the island and those to the south, largely running beside rivers and had a good hard surface underfoot, suitable for cycles. 

This path was very different, being grassy and passed through hillier terrain, dominated by farmland. It was lined by hawthorn and gorse and more railway engineering was required on this branch with cuttings and embankments often encountered as the old railway cut through the undulating farmland. Eventually I was joined by the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, but despite the proximity of the sea the scenery wasn’t much better as the rain fell again, albeit briefly, until eventually I reached Glen Mooar where the railway used to cross the deep valley on an impressive viaduct, but this has sadly gone with just the tall, stone pillars remaining in remembrance. I wanted to explore the valley so instead of following the coastal path onto the beach I turned inland on a path that took me through gorgeous woodland, though my knees screamed at having to climb the side of the valley. Even though the woodland floor was filled with many green plants, none of the wild flowers were actually flowering, though I’m sure they were a few short weeks later. At the top of the path I could hear a noisy waterfall and a path led me steeply down to the foot of Spooyt Vane in its stunning woodland surround. After taking a few pictures I climbed back up the steep path, doing everything I could to ease the pressure on my knees, until I reached a lane that took me out of the valley and back onto the course of the railway. 

Soon, I reached another valley, Glen Wyllin, where a steep descent brought me down to the banks of the river and a caravan park where I found a path that led me back up the side of the valley, firing up my glutes on the steep ascent. The path continued into Cooildarry Nature Reserve, which was a great valley filled with many wondrous delights, enlivened by the sun coming out at just this moment. Unfortunately I felt I needed to rush to catch a bus so I didn't linger, walking briskly through the fabulous scenery until I finally climbed out of the valley and onto the road just outside Kirk Michael. These two valleys were a treat after my long walk along the old railway line and, apart from a few complaints in the glens at the end, my knees were quiet. Despite poor weather for most of the day I was able to do a great walk through some fabulous wild scenery.

Slieau Freoghane and the Millennium Way

Wednesday 8th April 2026

The forecast for this day was for a significant easing of the strong, cold winds that had afflicted me so far, this Easter, on the Isle of Man, so I was keen to take advantage by staying up high in the hills for as long as possible. Therefore, I decided to follow part of the Millennium Way, which was created to celebrate the one thousandth anniversary of the Isle of Man parliament in 1979. On the previous day I had walked along the first couple of miles of the trail through Silverdale Glen, before leaving it to its tedious course along the minor B35 road. I now picked it up again in the small village of Crosby as it began to climb towards the hills in the northern half of the Manx island. However, when the Millennium Way began to descend into the valley of West Baldwin I kept climbing following a track that took me into the hills across the eastern slopes of Slieau Ruy. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky when I got up in the city of Douglas but tragically it had now clouded over, though the winds were gentle, as promised. I still enjoyed the walk, despite the poor views, rejoicing in the light winds, and relished the climb even when I missed a turning and had to cross the heather-covered, pathless slopes to get back on the clear path. I walked briskly, devouring the miles, passing the slight rise of Lhargee Ruy on the northern ridge of Slieau Ruy, past two cairns and across the western slopes of Colden.

At the col with Slieau Maggle I came onto a clear track that helped me up my pace even more until I reached a minor road where a rocky path climbed beside a plantation before the gradient eased and I finally branched off the track to reach the summit of Slieau Freoghane, which is the highest point in this range of hills, but the most surprising feature of this hill is that the summit is adorned with a trig point, a cairn and a bell, erected on a short pole. I gave this a gentle ring and took a few pictures before setting off along the ridge to rejoin the track where I actually turned right to head back the way I’d come, before turning sharp right to turn north again and continue along the eastern side of the ridge passing Slieau Dhoo. The grey, overcast skies now began to clear revealing blue skies and the sun, which was most unexpected, but welcome, while a dark cloud lingered over Snaefell with Sulby Reservoir in the valley between. In the sunshine, this was fabulous walking, so I was enjoying myself immensely until eventually I reached a road where I soon turned right onto a track with views ahead of me towards Snaefell while I descended, increasingly steeply, into a conifer plantation, which was painful, not just in my knees, but also in the knowledge that I would have to climb back up again.

When I reached the bottom of Sulby Glen I discovered that the path I wanted to take up Tholt-y-Will Glen was closed, which was really frustrating as I had deliberately come all this way instead of sticking to the Millennium Way just so I could take this walk through the wooded valley. I considered climbing over the locked gate, but prudently turned around and walked up the road past Sulby Reservoir. It was distressing for me to see dozens of discarded cans and bottles beside the road, as I can’t imagine how anyone could be so thoughtless as to toss these things from their cars. The sunshine had proved to be short-lived with Snaefell, ahead of me, now hiding within the clouds as I slowly climbed up the road until I reached the Millennium Way, which, while I had been elsewhere, had climbed out of West Baldwin and crossed between the hills of Carraghan and Beinn-y-Phott. Looking south I could not see any sign of the path but a clear track headed north, though it wasn’t long before it branched off to cross the slopes of Snaefell, as the skies brightened again, on a vague, often muddy path. I was disappointed by the lack of investment in maintaining the footpath of the Millennium Way, which indicates that it doesn’t get many people walking on it, and at least then it would be clearer.

The ground became increasingly wet with the path difficult to follow as I descended into a valley and was even more so as I climbed back out. When I reached the top of a broad saddle I lost all trace of a path and I realised that I had strayed from the correct route, so I had to cross the boggy col to reach the clear path. Soon after that the path joined a green lane, becoming a gravel track which helped me pick up my pace again as the sun came out and the temperatures rose. This was an enjoyable, relaxing descent, the path later becoming lined with gorse and then, while passing through Sky Hill Plantation, it was lined with the gorgeous white flowers of wood sorrel, and pre-flowering bluebells. Eventually I came down to the bottom of the path where I was confronted with the harsh reality of the main road which I had to walk along to take me into the town of Ramsey where I was able to catch a tram back to Douglas. This was a very enjoyable walk with some great moments striding across the hills with little or no wind to impede my progress, while the negatives were the closed footpath and a painful knee which got worse as the walk progressed.

The Herring Road

Tuesday 7th April 2026

The weather forecast for the Isle of Man was very good for this day so I was keen to take the maximum benefit from it, especially as the forecast was not so great for the end of the week. I decided that on this day I would do the trail Bayr ny Skeddan, ‘The Herring Road’, which starts from Castletown, so I caught a bus and got off at the railway station. I joined the path beside the Silver Burn as it passes underneath the railway line and past Poulsom Park, also following the route of the Millennium Way, which was created to celebrate the one thousandth anniversary of the Manx Parliament, the Tynwald, while the Herring Road was the route once taken by Manx fisherman as they journeyed between the two ports of Castletown and Peel. Initially I was walking through a stunning landscape with tall, pale green plants that lined the river, but once the park was left behind then the vegetation became more mundane with bramble and gorse now dominating. On the edge of Ballasalla I passed the ruins of Rushen Abbey and entered an amazing valley dominated by wild flowers including ramson (wild garlic) and wood anemones, though only the latter was flowering. Last year I was on the Isle of Man three weeks later and then the white flowers of wild garlic could be seen everywhere, but this year I was a little too early. 

I wasn’t able for me to get good views early on because of the private residences on the other side of the river, but after passing a road I entered the officially protected Silverdale Glen where nature has been allowed to take over in all directions producing a sensational effect that had me in awe. Even though very little was actually in flower, the abundance of greenery was mesmerising. The presence of artificial water channels alongside the river revealed that there had previously been mills in the area, but thankfully it has long since been set aside for nature. All too soon I reached a road bridge where the continuation of the river beyond was clearly less interesting so I was not disappointed to discover that the two trails turn right at this point to head up the busy road. Eventually I turned left onto a farmer’s track, finally leaving the Millennium Way to head towards the prominent hill of South Barrule. This track unfortunately became a horrible quagmire with deep mud that was very difficult for me to pass and even once I was eventually through I soon got lost, losing the path in two water-logged fields that I should never have entered. After going all the way around both fields I eventually returned to the path where I found the stile that I surely could not have been missed. Soon, I reached another access lane which brought me onto a road and then a forestry track through a conifer plantation to the foot of the path up South Barrule.

After lunch I decided that it would remiss of me if I didn’t take this opportunity to bag South Barrule while I was there, so I ascended the path, through heather, as it became increasingly rocky and very windy at the summit, which showed that the strong winds of the last couple of days were still present at the top of the highest hills. Despite the windy conditions, this was a much better hill than North Barrule, in the north of the island, which I had climbed the day before finding it to be saturated underfoot, while rocky South Barrule was well drained. While returning back down the path the nearby hill of Cronk ny Arrey Laa was ahead of me, so once I was back on the road I diverted off the Herring Road again to also bag that hill. However, the strong winds were seemingly even worse on this smaller hill so I didn’t stay at the top very long and soon made my way back down again. I had previously climbed this hill last year in weather that was slightly worse, but maybe not as windy, and now I followed that path, the route of the coastal footpath down the northern slopes for a seemingly long way until I reached a junction where I turned right past the isolated house of Eary Cushlin to return to a road and back onto the Herring Road while a heavy shower passed overhead. Fortunately this was short-lived, though heavy enough to prompt me to get waterproofs out, just as it began to stop. 

A track gradually took me into Glen Rushen while the weather transformed into gorgeous sunshine, which made for a relaxing walk that soon dried me off as I slowly descended and once I was in Glen Mooar I joined a road that eventually brought me through gorgeous surroundings into the village of Glen Maye. I had passed through here last year on a diversion from the coastal path to take in the deep gorge of Glen Maye and, although the Herring Road also doesn’t enter the glen, I once again took the path that descends steeply down to the waterfall and ravine. Even though most of the wild flowers were not yet in bloom, I couldn’t help thinking that the surroundings of this narrow wooded valley were simply beautiful, which is not a word I use lightly as it implies a lot of emotion, but that is just how I felt. Wild flower rich valleys such as Glen Maye are my ultimate happy place, my idea of heaven, and I deliberately walked very slowly so I could let the landscape work its magic on my mind until I reached a road where I merrily returned to the Herring Road and onto a path that climbs the side of the valley past early flowering bluebells and onto the coastal footpath following a precipitous route high above the sea heading towards Corrins Tower on the hill beside the port of Peel. This was an exciting path and a fitting end to an enjoyable, exhilarating walk through a variety of terrain with some highs and lows. The lowest point was the horrendous path through the farmland between Silverdale Glen and South Barrule, while the highs were undoubtedly the wooded valleys of Silverdale Glen and Glen Maye.

North Barrule and Snaefell

Monday 6th April 2026

After the strong winds of the day before, I was hopeful that on this day the winds would have eased and the weather forecast indicated that this would be the case and when I left my accommodation in the city of Douglas the sun was shining. Unfortunately, that didn’t last very long and when I got off the bus beside Ballure Bridge, near Ramsey on the Isle of Man, it was overcast. I was following a walk on the visit Isle of Man website described as North East Summits Five Peaks Challenge and started with a steep climb up a rocky path beside the conifers in Ballure Plantation and it didn’t take me long to discover that it was still very windy. At the top of the path I joined a road to an isolated house where I turned right to cross an exceptionally boggy area and head towards the imposing hill of North Barrule. It is said, “Bad things come in threes”, and that seemed to the case on this walk. Firstly, the poor weather, which would get worse, secondly, I had forgotten to bring any water, though that was easily solved by a stream and a filter, and the third was my walking poles. The wet ground prompted me to get my poles out for the first time on this holiday and I immediately discovered that one of the poles wouldn’t lock, so eventually I had to put it away again and resort to just one pole, though the ground was so boggy I really needed both. After leaping over the worst of the bogs the ground didn’t get much better and continued to be saturated throughout the ascent as I slowly climbed the eastern ridge of North Barrule. 

I had to be very careful with my footing as ground that is this wet gives little grip and I was just glad that I was not coming down since then it would have been almost impossible to keep a grip. The views behind me developed over Ramsey and out to sea, but under the grey overcast skies were not great. This ascent seemed to go on for a long time and never improved and worse was to come as I neared the top and the wind increased to gale force. A narrow ridge lay before me, which in better weather would have been delightful to walk along, but all I could think about was how to get off the ridge and out of this wind. A wall at the col provided me with some shelter while I considered my options, but eventually I realised that my only option was to keep going and battle through the wind. This traverse felt like hell and it brought to mind another quote, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” I couldn’t easily get down off the ridge so I had to go through hell by passing over a minor top above Park Lewellyn and another top, unmarked on maps, but the Isle of Man website calls it Beinn Rein, before crossing a broad saddle adorned with a wooden boardwalk across the wettest parts. On the rise towards Clagh Ouyr I stopped for lunch and while looking back along the ridge I realised that the skies had been brightening and suddenly the clouds parted to reveal blue sky behind the ridge.

Looking back, North Barrule was revealed as having a striking, steep-sided peak, which I hadn’t appreciated while I was at the summit in those windy conditions, but now that the sun had come out and I was sheltered from the wind, I could look back on what I had endured. After a rest and something to eat I climbed up to the top of Clagh Ouyr where the highest point on the Isle of Man, Snaefell, was revealed to me, which is the fifth and final peak on this walk, but with no sign of the winds easing yet I decided to turn left when I reached the bottom of the col and descend to the old mine workings at the head of Laxey Glen. I was fed up with the wind, so I was no mood to climb Snaefell again, which I had visited a year ago. On that occasion I had ascended through Laxey Glen, past the mine and now I descended that way, which provided me with a very relaxing walk along a stony track under warm, blue skies. After passing through hell I felt I was now in paradise. I lingered beside the giant water wheel, taking in the peaceful surroundings, until eventually I reached the railway station where a tram was just about to set off up the mountain railway to the top of Snaefell, so I jumped on board to complete the five peaks challenge, kind of.

The views were sensational, but most notably along the ridge to North Barrule that I had just walked along that morning. It was still very windy so after taking a few pictures I got straight back onto the tram which took me back down. I had originally planned to descend from Snaefell into Glen Roy, so I thought I’d tag that onto the end of this walk by heading into the wooded valley when I returned to Laxey. After getting a bit lost on the many paths in Laxey Glen Garden I headed up the valley admiring the abundant displays of wood anemones lining the stream and absorbing the tranquil scenery, which completed the job of helping me recover from the frightful winds on North Barrule. This day was a stark contrast between the hellish winds in the morning and the relaxing walking through Laxey Glen in the afternoon. I was disappointed with the strong winds on this day which ruined what could have been a fabulous day’s walk over the highest hills on the Isle of Man.

Langness Peninsula and Colby Glen

Sunday 5th April 2026

The weather during the first three months of this year was very wet, which didn’t encourage me to go out for walks, so by Easter I had hardly done any walking for more than an hour or two since the new year, and I was eager to get my walking boots back on. When trying to decide where to walk at Easter I couldn’t think of anywhere better than where I’d been at Easter in 2025: the Isle of Man. That was the first time I’d been there and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the island and the abundance of excellent walking opportunities, from the highest hills to the many wooded glens rich in wild flowers. There was so much that I hadn’t been able to see last year I had no hesitation in rebooking this year, however, when I got to the capital city of Douglas, Storm Dave was making itself felt with strong winds and a threat of rain, so I didn’t go far. The following morning the skies had cleared, but it was still very windy, which is especially frustrating when the weather is otherwise sunny and good. Since those winds were westerly I thought my best plan would be to walk on the east coast, sheltered by the hills, but I was reluctant to return to places I’d already visited last year. Another option was for me to walk around part of the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, the Way of the Gull, and a part that I missed out last year near Castletown, and this was more appealing for me.

Therefore I caught a bus to Castletown, setting off along the road around Castletown Bay with the peninsula of Langness before me and the strong winds behind, which I was most definitely not sheltered from. Soon, I branched off the road to take a path between the pebbly beach and grasslands that inevitably contain a golf course, crossing the isthmus to bring me to the Langness Peninsula. This long promontory is shaped a bit like an anvil and my route was taking me towards the pointy end, past an increasingly rocky coastline, which was roped off with signs warning of ground nesting birds, so I was more than happy to stick to the path even after it joined a rough road. When I eventually reached the car park at the end of the road I took the footpath that led me towards a lighthouse, and branched off to head towards Langness Point. This was fun walk, that sometimes had me scrambling across rocks, but eventually I reached a point where steep cliffs meant I could go no further. My map indicates that the path stops at this point so I was more than happy to turn around and rejoin the coastal footpath to reach Langness Lighthouse at Dreswick Point. I was not in a hurry on this walk so I was enjoying the freedom to explore the area whenever I felt like it.

With a bit of shelter from the wind I had an enjoyable walk beside a craggy coastline but to my left was the golf course, which can be the bane of walkers because they are potentially dangerous places. Fortunately on this occasion it was too windy for golfing. When I reached the blunt end of the Langness Peninsula I was confronted by the strong winds again, which prompted me to put my hood up, despite the sunshine. A causeway led me onto St Michael’s Island where I passed the ruins of the twelfth-century chapel of St Michael to reach the much better preserved Derby Fort, built in the seventeenth-century to protect the then busy port of Derbyhaven, and still boasts cannons. I had good views across the bay and up the coast, which prompted me to take loads of pictures, but the strong winds soon prompted me to turn around and head back into the wind, around the bay. When I reached the small community of Derbyhaven I found some shelter from the wind where I could have my lunch before setting off along the road back into Castletown. On the western side of Castletown Bay I was sheltered from the winds and enjoyed the respite, but it wasn’t long before I rounded Scarlett point and I was facing the strong winds again. This was a good coastline with plenty of rock and the waves crashing against them were producing a spectacular display to keep me entertained as I continued along the path with stunning views across Bay ny Carrickey, despite a bit of cloud cover at this point. 

I had planned to do this walk in the other direction so the winds would be predominately behind me, but then I forgot and got off the bus in the wrong place, where I had intended on finishing the walk, so instead I was once again walking into the wind. Eventually the path brought me to a farm and from there I reached the main road where a footpath finally took me away from the coast, and the winds, across farmer’s fields towards the village of Colby. The contrast between the strong winds beside the coast and the much more pleasant walking inland made me regret having decided to walk along the coast this day, but it was too late for that. When I reached the village of Colby, initially passing the railway station, I headed up Colby Glen Road, which was initially very frustrating because houses were blocking my access to the stream. When the houses eventually stopped a path gave me access to the stream where a fabulous walk followed through a gorgeous wooded valley filled with many wild plants, though very few were in flower, mostly celandines and one or two bluebells or wild garlic. It was still an awesome walk albeit tragically short and soon I reached a bowl where the river turns first east and then all the way around to west enclosing a meadow filled with many woodland flowers and daffodils. 

After a long wander around I followed the path up the western bank towards the small village of Ballakilpheric, leaving the sounds of the stream behind and working up a sweat from the effort of the climb and the lack of a cold wind. On the outskirts I turned right to take another path that brought me back down into the valley, but only briefly and immediately I was climbing back out again to return to the road above Colby. The sunshine was great on this walk so it was a pity about the strong winds. I enjoyed walking beside a stunning coastline and the short walk up Colby Glen was a delightful extra treat which I was sure the Isle of Man would provide me with many more.

Port Erin to Peel

Friday 25th April 2025

I was not feeling great at the start of this day and the weather had deteriorated in sympathy with light rain falling as I made my way through the streets of Douglas on the Isle of Man and caught a bus to take me to Port Erin where I had been the day before walking along the coastal path, Raad ny Foillan. My plan was to continue along that path on the most strenuous section even though I wasn’t feeling great, so I first reversed my steps of the day before and soon I rejoined the coastal path on a road that descends to the deserted Fleshwick Bay where I found a path that climbs steeply up the hill while behind me were misty views back over Port Erin and towards the Calf of Man. The terrain was heather moorland, which will be spectacular in August when the heather is in bloom, but was not at its best in this murky weather in April. The rain had eased but the same cold, easterly wind that had plagued me all week continued to blow while the path was so narrow I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, constantly crossing my legs in front of each other with every step, which wasn’t helping my knee pain that had appeared the day before. Eventually I reached the top of Lhiattee ny Beinnee and descended the other side to reach a road where a car park provided me with a place to stop and have an early lunch.

My progress slowly continued in the misty weather conditions past Burro Meanagh and up to Cronk ny Arrey Laa, which is the highest point on the Raad ny Foillan coastal footpath and why this is considered to be the most strenuous section, though it was not particularly difficult for me, even in this weather. With these strong winds, the top of the hill felt a bit like a mountain, but it is nowhere near as high. A path heads west towards the coast from the large summit cairn and trig point that took me past a memorial, but soon came to nothing, forcing me to retrace my steps past the cairn and onto a path that initially led me down north east before bending right to slowly descend all the way down to the coast. Eventually I crossed a stream where wild flowers reminded me that throughout my crossing of these two hills I had seen little variety in the moorland vegetation, so they were a welcome change. The terrain was now more interesting as the weather improved with the hazy views on the hilltops now replaced with stunning views along the coast under brightening skies. With Niarbyl Bay ahead of me I slowly began to enjoy this walk as I made my way across the slopes and down to Creggan Mooar where the sun briefly came out.

All too soon I reached a road where I turned inland and away from the beautiful coastline while the sun also disappeared, never to be seen again by me on the Isle of Man. The road brought me into the village of Dalby on the A27 road where my route continued beside the main road north until I reached Ballachrink where the trail descends to the coast, bypassing Glen Maye, but I hated to miss out on this valley so I stayed on the road until I reached the village where I could turn down into the valley. This was a delightful place overflowing with wild garlic, but I soon realised I was heading upstream rather than down so I retraced my steps and after some confusion I eventually found the right path that led me down into the stunning ravine where a small waterfall rewarded me for my efforts. Excellent paths provided me with amazing access through this beautiful narrow valley until I reached a sign that indicated the Raad ny Foillan coastal path does actually go through this valley. I eventually realised that the trail ascends through Glen Maye and then returns to the coast high above the northern side of the glen. Even though the lower part of the glen was less appealing for me, because of a lack of trees, it was still a fabulous place to walk through and soon led me to the coast where I had to climb ridiculously steeply up the cliff face until I reached the path on the northern side of the glen and back on the route of the Raad ny Foillan. Lesson learnt and if I ever do this path again I will know which way to go.

Beyond there I followed the path which hugged the coastline above precipitous cliffs and was a pleasure to walk along, so it was a pity the weather had deteriorated. With spectacular views before me towards Corrin’s Tower and behind me along the craggy coast, the sensational path led me around the many secluded bays and inlets before finally taking me around Peel Hill and down into the town which had lain hidden behind the hill. My first view of Peel was not pleasant being of the industrial west end dominated by the power station, but soon the rest of the town emerged and I descended through woodland to the river and into Peel where I caught a bus back to Douglas. This was another odd walk with the first half over the hills being rather dull in the misty weather, but it improved with the weather as I came back down to the coast, including that amazing moment when the sun came out. The following day the weather was even worse and since I needed to catch the ferry in the afternoon I decided to travel on the steam train again and not do any walking. In Port Erin I had a look around the railway museum and then caught the train back to Douglas before catching the ferry home. This was an amazing week with the highlight being the abundance of wild flowers that I saw everywhere, particularly wild garlic and bluebells thanks to the warm spring that had brought them to flower several weeks early so I could enjoy them during a late Easter. This was a fabulous week and with so many things to see and do on the Isle of Man I need to come back again so I can take in the many places I didn’t have time for.

Port St Mary to Port Erin

Thursday 24th April 2025

With a sense of déjà vu, I made my way back through the streets of Douglas on the Isle of Man, to the railway station where the day before I had been told that no trains were running. Fortunately, they were on this day and I got onto the packed train, getting off at Port St Mary and immediately I noticed that it was very cold due to a strong wind that would come to dominate this walk. By this time most of the morning had already gone as the train had not left Douglas until halfway through the morning, but I didn’t let that worry me and joining the Raad ny Foillan, I made my way through the town along the coastal path, though I had some difficulty following the poorly signposted trail through the built-up area. Views across Port St Mary Bay teased me about the section of coastal footpath that I had skipped since previously following the trail to Castletown, but there was nothing really spectacular about it since the underlying rock in that part of the Isle of Man is limestone. I’m sure it would have been an interesting walk upon closer inspection, but with a limited time on the island I needed to prioritise where I was walking. For this day I was heading to the south west corner of the Isle of Man where the dramatic coastline that I had seen earlier in the week continued, starting with an exploration of the scenery around Kallow Head and Perwick Bay before a stretch of inland road walking led me back to the coast. 

I had now reached the Chasms, which is an area where landslides have exposed some very deep fissures in the rock that were fascinating to explore and peer into the dark crevices while being careful to not get too close to the edge. Eventually I emerged safely from the Chasms and returned to the coastal footpath which led me a bit further inland, around Bay Stacka, where I stopped for something to eat. Afterwards, I made my way around Black Head and Spanish Head where, on turning north, I was hit by the full force of the cold winds as I headed uphill passing a cairn before finally beginning to descend steeply, sheltered from the winds and with the island, Calf of Man, now in view across the Calf Sound. After my lonely walk from Port St Mary, I felt rudely interrupted by the sudden intrusion of a large number of people wandering around the car park and outside the visitor centre at the far south western corner of the Isle of Man, so I dashed past as quickly as possible to get away from them and continued along the coastal path. I planned to catch the train back to Douglas that left Port Erin at four o’clock, so I was keeping an eye on my projected arrival time, but the rough terrain so far had put that back and soon I would be projected to miss my train so I quickened my pace despite the dramatic scenery around me, which clearly warranted my lingering and spending more time to take in the gloriously rocky terrain. 

Eventually I decided I was wasting my efforts and reined in my mad dash to take a more leisurely pace and enjoy the walk, despite the strong head wind. However, since I was now walking on grass, without even trying I was able to maintain a brisk pace that soon saw me gain on my projected arrival time. The path led me along the dramatic coastline with tantalising views ahead of Milner’s Tower, which sits on Bradda Head across Port Erin Bay and eventually I began to descend finally reaching the road that encircles the bay and the sandy beach at Port Erin. A complex network of paths crisscross the northern slopes of the bay, but many of them were closed, which I found disappointing as it reveals that they were not being properly maintained and I was unable to determine which paths carried the coastal footpath. Some of the paths were lined with abundant displays of wildflowers that had me mesmerised even though those paths were dead ends, which was also frustrating as I was short of time. Eventually I began to ascend steeply towards Bradda Head and the tower which had been in my sight for the last hour. Since I was still trying to catch that train at four o’clock, I didn’t divert to the foot of Milner’s Tower but kept to the path that follows the coast slowly climbing to the top of Bradda Hill.

The strong wind continued to push me back as I slowly pushed on up the hill along the path that clings to the edge of steep cliffs that fall precipitously down to the sea far below. I was thankful when I finally reached the top of the hill, but I didn’t stop and quickly made my way down the increasingly steep path on the other side, which was a challenge for my aging knees. For some reason, on this walk my knees had begun to hurt, despite not doing so earlier in the week while on the Isle of Man. I was relieved when the gradient eased and I was able to follow an easy path that heads south back to Port Erin where I reached the station in plenty of time to catch the train. This was a funny walk that was restricted by the railway timetable and challenged by painful knees, a varied path and concerns about getting back to Port Erin in time to catch the train. Perhaps I would have appreciated it more if I had caught an earlier bus to provide me with enough time to take a leisurely walk and enjoy the stunning surroundings that I was often in too much of a hurry to appreciate.

Dhoon Glen and Ballaglass Glen

Wednesday 23rd April 2025

At the start of another day of good weather on the Isle of Man I made my way through the streets of Douglas to the railway station where I hoped to catch the steam train south, however when I got there I was informed that the trains were not running that day. It was clearly displayed on the timetable but I hadn’t noticed, so I changed my plans and caught a bus heading north getting off at Dhoon Glen. I had decided that my primary goal while on the Isle of Man was to visit the wooded valleys that the island has in abundance and so if I couldn’t visit the ones to the south then I would look north and soon I was walking through gorgeous woodland underneath a vibrant fresh growth of leaves, but then I was stopped by a closed footpath. I had come across this problem on my walk the day before in Molly Quirk’s Glen and so, not wanting to cross the barrier, I turned right climbing up onto a path that skirts around the edge of the glen, slowly heading towards the coast with views across the trees to my left before finally I descended steeply to the coast at Dhoon Bay where I now had views of the craggy hillsides that fall precipitously down to the sea either side of the beach. I fully expected to have to come back the way I’d come, but the path that follows the stream back up the glen seemed to be open, no barrier was blocking my way, so I headed back along the bottom of the valley.

 

 

A dramatic path took me up the glen, crossing the stream many times, while wood anemones and celandines decorated the floor and I had to duck underneath the occasional fallen tree. Eventually I reached a tall waterfall that was sadly greatly depleted in water due to the lack of rain this spring, though the moss lining the back of the falls was appealing. A large tree lay fallen at the base of the waterfall and storm damage could be seen in many places, though nothing so far to warrant the path closure. From the base of the falls I made my way along a path that climbs steeply up the hillside and soon I came across a tree stump that had fallen across the path, completing blocking it and was definitely the main reason why the path that had been closed. Carefully, I made my way precipitously around the blockage and continued along the path passing the stone housing for a giant waterwheel and another fallen tree stump, though nowhere near as difficult to go around and finally returned to the barrier that had blocked my way earlier, but now I was on the other side. I don’t know when this storm damage was done but it was frustrating that nothing had seemingly been done to clear it. 

 

 

On emerging from the glen I joined the route of the Raad ny Foillan coastal footpath on a minor road and soon came across a closed road due to tree work, so I turned around and headed to the Glen Mona Hotel where a footpath took me down to the road on the other side of the closure and through Glen Mona. The road was too heavily enclosed with trees to provide me with a view of the valley so I just continued along the peaceful lane until I reached the car park at the end, at Port Cornaa, where I found a beautiful, tranquil spot, free of worries or people that provided me with a place to unwind, basking in the sunshine while having my lunch. I was reluctant to leave this beautiful valley where many wild flowers decorated the floor, but eventually I followed a track that gradually climbed the side of the valley until I reached the village of Cornaa where I left the coastal path and entered Ballaglass Glen, which was an utter delight. Rocks dominated the valley while excellent footpaths lined both sides of the stream providing ease of access to enjoy the whole place and leaving me in a daze as to which path to take and whether to run around on all of them like a little child. I was enthralled by the sight of it all, loving every moment, but all too soon I reached the top where a halt on the tramway is situated with a tram scheduled to soon arrive.

 

 

I had nothing else planned for this day so I made a quick decision to get off the tram at South Cape, near Laxey, and follow the coastal footpath south, which soon brought me onto Laxey Beach. It was lovely to walk across the sand, but all too soon I had to climb back off and, although there is a path, it is difficult to find and I couldn’t find it until after I had climbed up the rocks. This brought me onto the busy main road where a hair-raising walk eventually brought me to the outskirts of Bladrine and a path that led me down to Garwick Bay. The subsequent walk back up Garwick Glen was too short to compensate and from then the Raad ny Foillan took a tedious course inland until it eventually reached Groudle Glen, which I had visited the day before, and where I caught a final tram to take me back to Douglas and the waiting horse-driven tramway that I couldn’t resist riding. This was a great day that showed the Isle of Man, in my opinion, at its best from gorgeous wooded glens to tranquil, secluded bays. Sadly, it also showed some of the problems I had been encountering on the Isle of Man with closed paths and a coastal footpath that fails to keep to the coast. The highlight was the many wild flowers that I kept finding with so many bluebells that I was becoming blasé to them all and hardly noticing when even more cropped up. It was a shame I only had a week on the Isle of Man to enjoy it all.

Groudle Glen and Maughold Brooghs

Tuesday 22nd April 2025

After my walk on the day before this along the coastal path of the Isle of Man, I decided that my focus should be in the wooded valleys, which were at their best at this time of the year, rather than following the coastal path, which often veers away from the coast and onto dull country lanes. My first target was Molly Quirk’s Glen, which is within walking distance of the capital city, Douglas, where I was staying, so I headed through the large village of Onchan and down a path that was so steep I thought might be slippery, and then promptly slipped over, injuring both my hands. This left me rather dazed so I carefully made my way down the rest of the steps to the start of Molly Quirk’s Glen, where I found, to add insult to literally injury, the path was closed, and I could clearly see that this was due to fallen trees. So, after tending to my injuries, I made my way back up the road, avoiding the path I’d slipped on, and through the streets to White Bridge where I was able to access Molly Quirk’s Glen, and I was so glad as this was a magical place filled with wild flowers, including bluebells, wood anemones, celandines and wild garlic. It was fabulous. Although fallen trees blocked my way in places I was able to weave an enthralling route through the glen and back to White Bridge where I sadly failed to enjoy the nearby Bibaloe Walk and instead I had a difficult time trying to cross the busy road. I was then frustrated to discover that if I had been on the other side of the stream I would have been able to cross safely underneath Whitebridge Road thanks to an underpass.

With thoughts of how this day was not going well for me, I proceeded into Groudle Glen, which paled in comparison to Molly Quirk’s Glen, solely due to a lack of wild flowers, but this slowly improved as wood anemones began to appear and the valley walls narrowed forcing the path to take to wooden boardwalks. While the path clung to the side of the stream, I made my way through the narrow glen until finally I passed under a viaduct and into an enchanting valley. The enthralling walk eventually brought me to Port Groudle where I crossed the glen and climbed back up to the road just before my tram passed. Wishing I had kept a closer eye on the time, I disconsolately walked beside the road wondering what else could go wrong. Despite passing the station and over the viaduct I kept going until I came across a path on my right which turned into woodland and circled around the short side valley formed by the Lhen Coan River and eventually brought me back to the Groudle River and the glen. Slowly, I made my way back up to the railway station where I waited half an hour for the next tram, and I appreciated the rest because I was feeling very tired, possibly as a result of my accident on the approach to Molly Quirk’s Glen. When I got off the tram in Ramsey, however, I didn’t rest any longer, or linger, and immediately headed off through the streets following a walk I had found called Ramsey Glens.

This took me over the course of the TT race and along residential streets towards a steep bank of woodland called Claughbane Plantation and eventually entered a wood that was liberally decorated with wild flowers particularly what appeared to be white bluebells, though they were probably a garden escape of a white lily like three-cornered garlic. They were a pleasing sight, but all too soon I entered the plantation ahead of me which was mainly coniferous and so contained hardly any wild flowers. Despite missing a turning that forced me to turn back, I slowly climbed the steep bank through the conifer plantation until I reached the top and then followed the edge until finally I turned into Elfin Glen. My path climbed high above the western bank with only occasional glimpses into the deep, overgrown glen far below me, which was awe-inspiring but it was frustrating that there was no room for a path. The path continued to climb until eventually I crossed the dense valley and headed back down the eastern bank. A maze of paths took me around the side of the hill, eventually crossing the course of the TT race and bringing me into Ballure Glen. The Ramsey Glens walk now decided to head down to the coast, but I turned left to climb into the valley, but there was little to see and eventually brought me to a reservoir.

A rocky byway led me steeply back down the hill and onto the main road where I had a choice of whether to turn left and head back into Ramsey, or to turn right and follow the coastal path, Raad na Foillan. I decided to turn right, though this initially involved some road walking until, at Port Lewaigue, I turned left around the headland of Gob ny rona, which afforded me with views north along the largely flat coast north of Ramsey and out to sea. A great path led me over many small bridges around the headland before depositing me on the shingly beach at Port-e-Vullen. After a short walk along a road I was able to follow a fabulous path around the coast high above the steep, craggy cliffs of Maughold Brooghs, which, despite a strong wind, was an invigorating walk and led me over the hill and towards Maughold Head, even though it frustrating bypasses it. While feeling annoyed to be crossing tedious farmland I emerged back onto the coast with stunning views back to Maughold Head and the lighthouse that sits at the end. An exciting, though woefully short, walk along the craggy coast brought me into Port Mooar, a short distance away from the tram station at Ballajora. This was a funny day when it felt like things were not going right for me, but the weather was fantastic all day and I felt my decision to pick and choose my route was the right thing to do rather than blindly following the coastal path, though the section over Maughold Brooghs was great. 

Douglas to Castletown

Monday 21st April 2025

After climbing to the top of Snaefell, the highest point on the Isle of Man, the day before this walk, I wanted to start following the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, with my first instinct being to head north from the capital city, Douglas. However, the ‘traditional’ way goes in the other direction, so since I was keen to do the section between Ramsey and Douglas I thought I’d start from Ramsey instead and head towards Douglas, but when I walked out of my accommodation it was raining so I decided to start with the official first stage heading south from Douglas, which I thought was described as leisurely, so best for the inclement weather, though it is actually moderate. It starts at the Millennium Lifting Bridge over the River Douglas and soon had me climbing the hill above Douglas Head, past a big hotel and, through a grand entrance, onto Marine Drive. This was a quiet walk despite being on a tarmacked road, the reason for which I would soon discover, as the rain slowly began to ease and I made my way along the road with views along the spectacular, craggy coastline while the yellow flowers of gorse decorated the side of the road. Eventually the rain stopped and I was able to shed my waterproofs and soon after I passed a locked gate, preventing cars from proceeding, though not those on foot, and soon I saw that the road had been partly eroded by the sea, necessitating the closure and why I hadn’t seen any cars.

The dramatic coastline continued past Little Ness and below towering cliffs, which I enjoyed in quiet solitude. Port Soderick had now come into view and eventually I came off the road onto a narrow footpath that descends to the beach where I turned right, away from the coast and through Port Soderick Glen, which was a fabulous walk through a wooded valley that was filled with wild flowers, especially the delicate white flowers of wild garlic while the delicious smell of garlic filled the air. All too soon I emerged from the glen and onto a road that took me up to a prolonged spell of walking beside a main road before I mercifully turned left to head back towards the coast, passing some foul-smelling farms until I finally returned to the coast where a fabulous section of coastal walking followed that must rank amongst the best in the British Isles. It kept to the edge of the high cliffs, often with farmland on the other side of a fence, but along a narrow strip of the rugged, wild margin between sea and land. The path meandered around with the landscape, up and down, left and right with gorse as the dominant plant while the weather slowly improved with blue skies and the sun now coming out. It was very windy on Santon Head but the sheltered inlet of Santon Gorge was spectacular so there I stopped for my lunch while admiring the views out to sea with the sun dancing on the waves.

The delights continued across Port Grenaugh and on along the coast to Port Soldrick until I finally turned inland into a shallow, wooded inlet along a path that was heavily decorated with wild flowers, though it was very muddy and route-finding on the other side was challenging. When I found myself on the edge of a landfill site I turned back and still couldn’t find the path, so I just followed the coast until eventually, on the edge of the airport, I found the path that goes around the runway and eventually brought me into Derbyhaven where the first stage of the Raad ny Foillan ends. With plenty of time left I was inclined to keep going but, while my old Harvey Map shows the trail heading straight towards Castletown, the route now goes around the Langness peninsula. I wanted to catch a train back to Douglas and I soon realised that I would not be able to walk all the way around the promontory and catch it so I turned back towards the road and followed that into Castletown. The second stage of the Raad ny Foillan is described as leisurely as the terrain is low lying and so I didn’t think it would appeal to me as much as the rugged coastline of the first stage. Although it was rather early for my train I wandered into Castletown and waited at the station for the train that eventually brought me back to Douglas.

This first stage of the coastal footpath taught me that it is a varied trail with some excellent walking but also some annoying inland diversions along roads so I decided that, instead of being obsessed with completing the whole trail, I would just try and pick some of the good bits and focus on the highlights of the Isle of Man. Although I was there all week, I soon realised that it would not be enough time for me to see everything, so I needed to prioritise and I didn’t think the coastal footpath was the best walking that the Isle of Man had to offer. Port Soderick Glen had shown me my fortune in seeing these wooded glens at their very best and, for me, that was the priority as the colourful display of wild flowers was sensational and even guaranteed whereas the coastal footpath sometimes disappointed, though on this stage it was second to none.

Snaefell

Sunday 20th April 2025

For my Easter holiday this year I decided to come to an island that I have long harboured a desire to visit: the Isle of Man. I have planned to go there on several occasions over the years, most recently in 2019, but now I had finally got myself organised. I caught a train to Liverpool and then a ferry across the Irish Sea to the Isle of Man, though the weather when I arrived was not great and it was already two o’clock in the afternoon, so there was not enough time for me to do any walking and instead I just wandered around the capital city, Douglas, and followed part of the local heritage and nature walk called the Douglas Trail. The highlight was visiting Summerhill Glen, which was filled with tiny, magical fairies, or at least the doors to their houses, and reminded me that the Isle of Man has many narrow, wooded glens which are just the sorts of places that I wanted to visit while I was there. But my first goal was Snaefell, the highest point on the island and the only point that is more than two thousand feet above sea level, and so the only mountain. Thankfully the next day was sunny so I set off on one of the astonishing Victorian railways on the island, the Manx Electric Railway, a tramway that hasn’t changed in over a hundred years, even down to still using the same trams. This took me to Laxey where one of the paths up Snaefell starts, however, there is also an ancient mountain railway that takes tourists up to the summit and I couldn’t resist hopping on hoard for a ride. 

This took me all the way up to the bitterly cold, windswept summit of Snaefell where cloud was obscuring the view so I immediately got back on the tram and came straight back down again. Now I finally decided to stop being a tourist and do some walking, so I headed out of the village along a road that steadily climbs Laxey Glen, passing the iconic Laxey Wheel, the largest working waterwheel in the world, and on through the hamlet of Agneash into the quiet valley on a rough track. With the sun shining, a pleasant walk took me slowly up the valley while the trams continued to trundle up the other side until I reached some mine ruins where I left the track to follow a faint, often boggy path across the side of the hill. Although this was quite tiring, the sun was out and I relished the feeling of climbing a proper mountain path towards my first mountain of the year, unfortunately civilisation soon rudely interrupted me with the mountain road that is part of the famous TT motorcycle race. On the other side the mountain path climbed straight towards the summit of Snaefell, though on the steepest section I thought I could see faint, well-graded zigzags in the grass, while the beaten track ascends steeply up. I tried to keep to these easier routes, but they were hard to follow and eventually I just ploughed on up to the summit station and café.

It was still very cold and windy at the top but the mist had cleared so I had extensive views around the northern half of the island, though the crowds prompted me to not linger and I soon made my way north past one of the two masts that blight the summit and, after crossing the railway tracks, descended a faint path with views ahead of me towards a range of hills that terminate on North Barrule, the second highest hill on the Isle of Man. If I was so inclined I could have set myself the goal of visiting the summits of all the hills on the island more than one thousand feet high and I would have started by taking my descent along the ridge between Clagh Ouyr and North Barrule before descending into Ramsey. Instead I was following a route on visitisleofman.com (and the OS Maps app) called Route 1 - East Summits, which turns away from these hills to head east towards the coast. Steady progress on variable paths took me into the strong easterly winds around the side of the Verandah and, ignoring the proscribed route, I kept to the path that crosses the southern slopes of Slieau Lhean. Once sheltered from the cold winds, and with great views out to sea, I had an enjoyable walk slowly making my way down the track and finally returning to the village of Laxey where I took advantage of time to descend to the coast at Old Laxey where I turned right to follow the Laxey River back up to the railway station. This was a fabulous walk, despite cold winds at the top, as it felt wonderful to be climbing a mountain again and under no compulsion to push myself, it was gloriously relaxing.