It takes just under three hours to cross from Liverpool to Douglas, the eastern port on the Isle of Man. Not only are there few motorcycles on the ferry during our mid-week sailing, but there's not many cars or passengers either.
This is what the ferry normally looks like during race week, with several crossings per day! Picture from the Internet
We rolled off the ferry in the early afternoon and made a bee-line through the middle of the island to the other side. We've been told by many people that there's a good campsite just outside of Peel, on the west coast. Coast to coast on the Isle of Man is really not that far - 17 kms! The island is small! I can't imagine tens of thousands of motorcycle spectators on this tiny island on race weeks! Well, I can imagine it. I've seen the videos...
So glad we're not fighting all those crowds. And all those bikes.
Really.
Our campsite in Peel. This was the only other tent in sight
Numerous light patches of grass marked all the spots where campers had set up their tents last week. Feeling neighbourly, we unpacked our new home up beside a large RV and a German woman came out to greet us.
"You've just missed the races!", she exclaimed in absolute dismay. She said this in the same tone that you'd use to describe a huge natural disaster, like an earthquake or hurricane.
"Yes, we know. We're just here to see the island."
She seemed not to hear me. "The races were just a couple of days ago. It was so good! We come every year. I cannot believe you just missed the races!" Now her fevered voice reached the pitch reserved for mourning the loss of a family pet.
This woman was getting annoying. I thought about moving the tent.
"Yes, that's too bad we missed the races. We're just going to continue setting up. Nice talking to you."
Her husband came out. She wailed to him: "They just arrived. They missed *ALL* the races!" It sounded like her entire family just disappeared in a plane crash.
"Okay, bye."