Isle of Man

While the cat's away....................... well HoF has gone for an African spree , and not being able to face the original plan of a weekend in London with a forecast of 30 degrees, another plan emerged. I have long wanted to go back to the Isle of Man where I lived, in vacation time anyway, for four years once upon a time. Hard to believe that was forty years ago. So, with amazing boldness and independence after the same number of years of marriage, I booked plane, B&B and car, and went there for four nights. This photo isn't very good but the white house in the middle is the first sight I had of my old home, as I drove the hired Fiesta (only 600 miles on the clock) over the hills.

The B&B was in the same village where I'd lived, although where the house stands was a grassy field back then. This was the view from my window.

And this was my home, now known as the 'Old' Vicarage. ironic really that vicars have declined as the village population has increased.

And this was the parish church where my father was the incumbent. The car park used to be a graveyard, I think. The village now has a museum and I have a commission to come back and hunt through old photos for memorabilia. There was still one person alive who remembered my parents.