Travel: Isle Of Man

In fact, you could say that the island is setting the pace on that front. With its population of barely 80,000 souls spread across an area of 220 square miles, the Isle of Man offers a remarkable range of options to those who want to get from A to B at something less than breakneck pace.

Even the act of getting there can be an exercise in taking things easy. You can, if you wish, whizz into Ronaldsway Airport - Flybe offer direct flights from Edinburgh and Glasgow - but if speed is not of the essence then the quaintly-named Isle of Man Steam Packet company's ferries from Heysham, Liverpool and Birkenhead provide a far more relaxing alternative.

We opted for the Heysham route, a three-and-a-half hour journey across the Irish Sea that brought us right into the heart of Douglas, the capital and largest town on the island. Sailing into Douglas Bay, you could easily mistake the stuccoed architecture, the pleasure gardens and the palm fronds of the front to be an indication of faded grandeur and that sense of sadness that afflicts so many English seaside resorts, but at close quarters the town retains a vibrancy and sense of style that other places have long since lost.

It also retains the horse-drawn tram system that has allowed visitors to Douglas to clippety-clop the 1.6 miles from one end of the front to the other in some style - if not exactly great comfort - for the 136 years since its opening in 1876. To be honest, a brisk walking pace would probably see you cover the distance in about the same time, but to do so would surely be missing the point. As an introduction to the Isle of Man's genteel rhythm, it fitted the bill just nicely.

Curiously enough, commercial activity along the front at Douglas is all very subdued. Go back a street or two into the town's hinterland and you will find all manner of shops - a good number of them reflecting the up-market tastes of residents drawn by the island's advantageous tax regime - but you'd be pushed to find much more than an ice cream parlour on the actual prom itself. But then, what more do you need when that ice cream is the glorious stuff made by Davison's, a Manx institution for many years.

With a two-year-old in tow, this combination of seaside, horses, trams and ice cream had ticked a lot of boxes already. So just at the point where we started to accessorise the experience with Kiss-me-Quick hats and sticks of Douglas rock, we decided to head for the hills instead. Or, more precisely, the hill.

Snaefell, which tops out at 2,034 feet, dominates the entire Isle of Man. On a clear day it is said that you can see the four kingdoms of Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales from its peak, but it is so frequently swathed in mist - or, as legend has it, the Cloak of Manannan, which protects the island from invaders - that such days are rare. On our visit, we reckoned we could pick out the Lake District, about 40 miles away, and the Mull of Galloway, 31 miles distant.

Now I'm all for a spot of vigorous Munro-bagging, but as Snaefell doesn't exactly fit the definition of a Munro - being far short of 3,000 feet and not at all Scottish - I decided that vigour wasn't what was needed to get to the top. Conveniently, an alternative was available in the form of the Snaefell Mountain Railway, a gloriously antiquated collection of carriages which shoogled and shook us from the base station at Laxey to the summit in around half an hour.

Again, the journey was more about character than comfort, but it afforded some glorious views as we spiralled up the hill to the top. At which point, the best (indeed, only) thing to do was to pop into the summit cafe, which dishes up decent lunches at prices that are commendably modest given the absence of competition nearby. You can, if you like, ascend a few more feet to the very top, but the experience is rather diminished by the crop of communication masts that have sprouted there in recent years.

The journey down was as unhurried as the ascent, albeit a little noisier as the Victorian braking system groaned beneath the carriage and the driver frequently parped his horn to clear sheep off the line. At one point, the line actually crosses the route taken by TT racers. In the interests of safety, the train operators suspend operations while the races are taking place, although it would surely add a fascinating dimension to the event if competitors had to deal with the possibility of a level crossing as they made their way round the legendary 37-mile course.

The descent back into Laxey affords a superb view of the famous Laxey Wheel. Built in 1854, the world's largest working waterwheel, at more than 70 feet in diameter, turns with a very Manx lack of urgency, whizzing round at the stately rate of just three revolutions per minute.

The wheel's purpose was to pump water from the local mines, from which around 600 miners used to dig lead, copper, silver and zinc until the enterprise close down in the depression-ravaged 1920s. Right from the start, though, it also served as a major tourist attraction, being opened in a blaze of glory by the island's governor, Charles Hope, who duly named it Lady Isabella in honour of his wife. What she thought of her moniker being attached to a massive contraption of clanking ironmongery was never recorded.

Laxey actually stands at the midpoint of the Manx Electric Railway, which runs from Douglas to Ramsay, a distance of 17 undulating miles, along a spectacular coastline route.

Now, if all of this puts you in mind of Sodor, the mythical isle of the Rev W Awdry's Thomas The Tank Engine' stories, the connection is more than mere coincidence. The Isle of Man is part of the historic bishopric of "Sodor and Man", Sodor being an ancient term for the southernmost Hebrides. In 1950, Awdry visited the Isle of Man, realised that Sodor would be a good location for his yarns, and history was made.

In actual fact, Awdry drew inspiration for his stories from narrow-gauge railways in Cumbria, Cornwall and North Wales as well, but to ride the Isle of Man Steam Railway south from Douglas is to become so immersed in his imaginary world that you half expect to spot the Fat Controller, stopwatch in hand, as you chug through one of the stations. In fact, the very first stop on the line is called Port Soderick, which does rather emphasise the point.

At one time, the steam railway covered a network of 46 miles, but it now operates just one line, the 16-mile stretch from Douglas to Port Erin. The scenery at the north end of the journey is more pastoral than spectacular, but the views open out towards the south. However, we travelled only as far as Ballasalla, a quiet village just a couple of miles north of Castletown, where we took a late and leisurely lunch in the picturesque Abbey Restaurant.

Of course, you don't have to travel at the speed of an arthritic sloth to enjoy the island. In fact, the absence of speed limits outside built-up areas has long been attraction to those who take their pleasures at full throttle, while the TT Races, the Manx Grand Prix Festival and the Manx Rally attract thousands of motorsport fans each year.

But if you do want to ease off and spend a few days in life's slow lane then the Isle of Man could be just the place to do it.