Our train was slowly climbing a steep valley that felt completely hidden from the world. To the right of the tracks, the Laxey River dropped suddenly, twisting south and disappearing into the Irish Sea. Sheep grazed here and there, and the gentle scent of gorse flowers drifted into the carriage. As I gazed outside, the vegetation thinned out and we rattled higher – and higher – as the train spiraled around the bare summit of the mountain.
At the top station, a howling wind welcomed us. The sea below had turned wild, its calm waves now crashing violently. The view stretched endlessly. According to folklore, this is where one can glimpse seven kingdoms – some of them not found on any map. I could see England, Ireland, Wales, Scotland, and the Isle of Man. But standing up there, it’s also said you can see the realm of Manannán mac Lir, the sea god in Gaelic mythology, and even the kingdom of heaven. For many, this journey feels like a sacred pilgrimage.
Snaefell – meaning “Snow Mountain” – is no ordinary peak, and the Snaefell Mountain Railway is no ordinary train. I was on the Isle of Man, standing on its highest point, after riding the only electric mountain railway in the British Isles. The tradition of riding to the summit is deeply meaningful, but learning about the train itself paints a vivid picture of the island. Its story is one of migration, unemployment, Victorian innovation, and tourism – and it still plays a central role in the island’s heritage.
My day began at the Manx Museum in Douglas. Housed in a former hospital, the museum tells the island’s 10,000-year story through Viking treasures, Celtic crosses, and the world’s oldest parliament, Tynwald. I was especially drawn to the railway’s history, which led me to the social exhibits – and to a brief but insightful conversation with Katie King, curator of art and social history.