Good morning people, I hope that you are having a good morning, or in many cases by the time you read this, I hope that you have had a good day. Well, I have just 4 days before I head for Clatterbridge.

When I was a kid and at home on school holidays, I would always be counting the days that were left before my return to the convent in Liverpool. When the last day came, I would try and stay awake all night in a vane attempt to try and make the last day last as long as possible. Sleep would eventually overwhelm me and I would wake up the following morning bitterly disappointed that I had not managed to remain awake. Then there was the boat to Liverpool. At least it was a four hour trip and despite my tiredness I would be determined not to fall asleep during the crossing. Every minute had to be savoured. I didn’t always manage this either and I can remember waking up as we were going up the Mersey and just a few minutes away from tying up. I would be in tears because I had slept my way through the last few hours of something very close to home. When I was very young, I used to hope or pray that the tide would go out when the boat was halfway across the Irish Sea leaving all the passengers stranded, and we would all be able to climb out and walk home. So, here I am some 40 odd years on planning yet another trip across the Irish Sea. I have no doubt that I will be homesick yet again. I get homesick just buying a damn boat ticket. Of course this time it will be on the Seacat.

The Seacat just doesn’t do it for me though. The old Isle of Man boat felt like it was part of the Isle of Man, the timber decks, the smell of ropes and kippers. Most of the crew had Manx accents. I am not a nationalist, I just love home. The Seacat has none of those things; it is more like a bus than a boat and just a means of transport. I don’t even think they sell Bovril! Any oldies like me will know what I mean by that. They always had Bovril on sale from the buffet bar on the shelter deck of the old IOM boats.

I guess the one good thing that came out of going away to school in Liverpool was the coming home again. At the end of each school term I counted down the days, just as I did at the end of the holidays. This time though on the final night, I wanted to get to sleep as quickly as possible so that morning would soon be with us. Going home day was a really special day in my life, much more so than a birthday or Christmas day, this time the four hours sailing time on the IOM boat could not pass quickly enough. Stepping ashore onto the quay in Douglas was just like stepping right in to Heaven. Because my brothers and friends had never experienced the hardship and sadness of leaving home, they never experienced the thrill of returning home. It is going to be exactly the same this time round some 40 odd years on. Only when you have been so very ill and close to death, can you really appreciate being fit and well again! No, I will not be trying to stay awake all night on Sunday. Nor will I be counting the minutes on the Seacat on Monday morning. I will be looking forward to returning in four weeks time fitter and better than I am now. I shed many a tear as a young boy having to attend the convent in Liverpool. However, I have much to be grateful for to the nuns and teachers of St. Vincent’s, and to the people of Liverpool. Today I have even more reason to be grateful to the doctors and nurses at Clatterbridge, and the people of the Wirral. Yes leaving home is always a sad business, but it is necessary if you want to experience the joy of returning. When you are ill, life can seem pretty desperate, and maybe not even worth living. However, once you are through the illness, and even if your recovery leaves you a tad short of what you were before, life is so much sweeter, and you will not just breathe every morsel of fresh air as you did before, but savour it and enjoy it like it like a gourmet meal.

Until tomorrow then folks, this is Tom Glassey with News at 10.5, on the banks of the Silverburn River.