Woke early, too early since I’d only got to bed at midnight. At which time there was only Casey, the youngest daughter in the house. Matty apparently came in at 1:30, locking the ‘never locked’ back door and with it, Candy outside. I’d been awoken by the second guest arriving from Belfast, an overnight ferry.
Having done the morning stuff I went down to breakfast. Matty introduced me to Eric. Now it has to be said I was not expecting Eric to look as he did, that is, an old gent somewhere, I would guess, in his eighties! Shortly afterwards Candy appeared and introduced herself. Now it has to be said I was not expecting Candy to look as she did either, that is, a small Liz Hurley lookalike. She hails from South Africa and it was quite funny when her and Eric, broad Irish accent, were in conversation. Finally, Casey made an appearance at the breakfast table, grabbing some cereal before heading off to her job at the Snaefell Hotel, atop the mountain.
Breakfast over (two toasted bacon sarnies) and some conversation with Eric about Geoff Duke (google if you don’t know) and riders of his era, I packed my rucky and decided I’d walk up to the Ramsey hairpin. I’d popped out before brekkie to buy a race programme and contrary to what I’d thought, there was viewing inside the hairpin itself. It’s no more than 15 minutes on foot, mere seconds on a superbike! On the way out I was introduced to Jocelyn, the eldest daughter. Only granny left to meet now! I was the second person at the hairpin. I chatted with the chap there, who turned out to be an ex racer himself, having completed the Manx Grand Prix one year. Gradually the space started to fill up, so I grabbed a spot and set up the Gopro.
It wasn’t long (well actually it was quite) before the race was off. Some old guy next to me had a radio and what I imagine was an internet Thai bride. Probably 50 years his junior, she was very attentive. So was I but to the radio!! He claimed to know John McGuinness, so wanted/thought he would win. I was firmly in the Guy Martin camp, a) coz he’s a top, down to earth geezer, chief and b) because he’s riding a Suzuki, like me. In the end, McGuiness did win it, Martin stopped round the course whilst second, though about 20 seconds down. No champagne for Guy then but TT win number 16 for JM. After the superbikes, there’s an hour or so and then it’s the first sidecar race. Only three laps instead of the superbikes’ six but there’s a smaller field and they are about 2/3 minutes per lap slower, so there’s not the constant action you get with the solos, who once again hit 131mph for a lap, about 17m15s. Klaus Klaffenblock, the Austrian, won his third successive sidecar TT, having done the double in 2010.
I wandered back down to town after the racing and offloaded my snaps. Then I went out for an early tea, fish and chips with mushy peas and a pot of tea. I’d left it late to eat last night, gone 9pm, and the chilli burger wasn’t nearly as satisfying. Finally, I took a stroll over the river and down on to the prom. I believe there is some sprint racing taking place tomorrow but I plan on joining the nutters riding the circuit, with the Gopro in situ. They don’t call it Mad Sunday for nothing. First though I’ll have to fuel up.
