For many people on the Isle of Man of a certain age there is one place that holds more childhood memories than most others on the island.

Swimming pools are always fun places for kids and, these days, there are slides, chutes and wave machines.

But that was not needed at the Aquadrome. Just some boards to jump from and our imagination was enough.

The pool shut in 2002 due to a landslip and officially closed in 2004 along with the rest of the Summerland complex which was demolished in 2006.

I learnt how to swim at the Aquadrome, swimming my first width, then my first length and finally graduating to diving down for a heavy rubber brick in my pyjamas. I’ve not had call to turn to such skills so far but you never know.

I loved my time at the Aquadrome but I don’t think I am seeing it through rose-tinted spectacles.

Parts of the experience were grim. The communal changing room was intimidating for a youngster sharing it with a bunch of hairy men. I also distinctly remember the yellow plastic cubicles with just a curtain to pull across and the cigarette burns.

Then there were the impressively ergonomic clothe hangers with various hooks to hang items off and even a basket for your footwear.

Then there was the dreaded freezing footbath. For some reason verrucas do not seem to be as prevalent today and you don’t see people wearing those rubber socks anymore. The footbath was supposed to help prevent them, but I think (with no scientific evidence) they were the cause.

My time at the pool could vary as a child. Sometimes I would go into my own fantasy world where I would have pretend battles on a pirate ship and spend hours just throwing myself into the pool.

On other occasions my friend and I would spend hours freezing as we tried to pluck the courage to jump off the high board which felt higher than Beachy Head.

To my shame, I could only pluck up the courage to jump from the second highest but my friend did manage it. I think I was perturbed by the urban legend that a man bellyflopped from the top board and split his stomach open. Also, the exposed cliff behind added to the drama.

We also took great pleasure in ignoring the poster which set out what you could not do. At that time, I was not interested in ‘petting’ but I would happily run and ‘bomb’ into the water.

I also loved diving down and following the slope which made the pool much deeper.

But my favourite memory was the fascinating dive to the underwater windows where you could watch staff wander along a corridor. Forget all your fancy slides, this was what grabbed my attention.

Afterwards, once you had dried off and got changed in front of all those hairy men, we would traipse upstairs with a desperate hankering for a packet of crisps or lava-heated soup. It was a strange part of the Summerland complex. It was this vast space which just had a couple of vending machines.

The NSC is a much more pleasant place but somehow, it just does not capture what the Aquadrome had. Perhaps switch out those slides for underwater windows. Just a suggestion.