Loaghtan Books

No, we haven't suddenly acquired an office helicopter, more's the pity.  This flew over the office the other day, probably with a group of motorcycle enthusiasts - or possibly professional racers - on board. We were interested enough to look up the details of the whirlybird (yes, I know we should have been working...).  It is apparently owned by Helitrain, which is based in Cirencester in Gloucestershire, near where the Loaghtan Books junior partner comes from.  Helitrain effectively offers a helicopter chauffeur service, although the company also appears to be involved in adult education, which we're interpreting as training helicopter pilots. It's pretty cool though, owning your own helicopter.  At least I imagine it is...

The island has just seen the end of the TT fortnight.  The race circuit doesn't go past the office, but we can hear the roar of the motorbikes hammering out of Ramsey.  In fact the racing could have been a lot closer to us if the original route was still used. The start of the TT, or, as it was known then, the Gordon Bennett Trial (yes, he of the expression), started just across the valley from us, in Port E Vullen - we can see the houses from the office.  The plaque pictured above marks the spot.  The Trial was originally for cars and was held on the Isle of Man because the Westminster government didn't want to close their roads for racing - there were no race tracks then.  Tynwald, always looking to bring people (and their spending money) to the island, didn't have such qualms, so the Trials came here.  They were successful.  People had a good time, engineers worked out how their cars could be improved (or not), and the Manx liked the novelty. After ...

No photograph this time.  I did try, but at best it was a colourful blur. We have house martins nesting on the building (office martins?), and trying to take a decent photograph of small black and white feathery missiles proved impossible.  They're fast . I wonder whether the nest is just for practice though - or a decoy - as they've been faddling about for a couple of weeks now, and have only managed a small ledge so far.  I'd have thought they'd have got on with it more quickly.  Perhaps they're upset that they have no neighbours, as house martins like to nest in colonies.  Or perhaps, as the building was repainted last year, they don't like the smell. As it is, about a dozen of them are whizzing around emptying the sky of insects.  They're surprisingly tolerant of humans too, zooming past mere feet away intent on catching lunch.

Of necessity an older photograph as the TT hasn't run for two years, courtesy of Covid.  The fortnight's racing starts tomorrow. For those readers who don't know - and there must be a few - the Tourist Trophy course runs for nearly 38 miles over domestic and rural roads (closed for the race of course), including across the shoulder of the Isle of Man's only mountain.  The lap record is just over 16.5 minutes, at the moment, which means an average speed of just under 136mph - they often top 200mph.  Imagine that going past your house. Loaghtan Books is not on the course, but not far off it.  We sometimes have to explain to printers why they can't deliver to us during TT fortnight.  Photographs such as the one above, help.

We've just taken delivery of a new book 'I Never Wanted a Pub' written by reluctant landlady Celia Bannister - cover picture above.  It's hilarious!  (And really difficult to proof read owing to me chortling so much.) Long-term Manx resident, Celia is now in her eighties but this is the tale of when she and her husband were the youngest pub tenants in North West England.  Set in the late 1950s/early 1960s, the various characters and their antics would not disgrace Monty Python. 'I Never Wanted a Pub' is also a first for Loaghtan Books.  We've never before sold a book to the driver delivering them.  Thank you Jason! We're updating our website at the moment, but 'I Never Wanted a Pub' will appear on it shortly. Seen on a pub chalkboard:  Buy any two drinks and pay for them both...

Over the last couple of years, with Covid keeping visitors away and affecting trade, we have, sadly, lost a few customers as they decided the struggle to make a living in a hostile environment wasn't worth the effort any more.  It's therefore good when we get a new customer who likes our books and wants to stock them.  The most recent is The Little Shed. For those off island, The Shed is the cafe at the end of Laxey promenade, which has been so phenomenally successful they've taken over the cafe at Dhoon Glen tram station, and thereby become a chain.  Anyone who can open in November during a pandemic and still be successful must be doing something right.  The Little Shed is the Dhoon Glen branch, and they now sell our books. The photo shows our delivery vehicle, as well as the cafe (the white building) and passenger shelter (the brown one).  Bev and her team have done a huge amount of work to turn a tired cafe into something really sparkling.  We're trying ...

No, we haven't moved.  This is Point of Ayre lighthouse and, on good days like today, we can just see it from the office windows.  It's about twelve miles away across Ramsey Bay.  Not only can we see the lighthouse, we can also see the tidal rip which stretches for about ten miles and is strongest six hours before and six hours after high water at Liverpool.  For the non-technical among us, it's a powerful current and you don't mess with it. Point of Ayre is the northern tip of the Isle of Man and the island itself is roughly midway between England/Scotland and Ireland.  The lighthouse was built in 1818 and lit a year later, after mariners from Liverpool lobbied those in power about the dangers of the Manx coast. A lighthouse is obviously designed to work best at night, but still acts as a landmark during the day: each is painted slightly differently, so mariners know which one they're looking at.  They do have to be paying attention, however.   C...