
Ghost
Tour 2003 Report by Kriss Stephens
The
"Tours of Terror" Ghost Tour to England exceeded even my
lofty expectations. I was happy that my very first Ghost Tour would
be with a smaller group of people, all of them nice and eager to have
a great time. All the travelers arrived at Kennedy Airport in New
York, where we were given gifts (ghoulish goodie bags) by Charles
from "Tours of Terror." Three of the tour-members had been
on the "DraculaTour" to Transylvania before. Everyone boarded
the British Airways plane with the right attitudes for a wonderful
adventure. 
We
arrived in Great Britain, and were greeted by Tony Walker, our English
ghost hunter and tour guide. To everyone's surprise it was sunny when
the flight from JFK touched down in London. It stayed sunny throughout
the whole week. So much for the myth that it always rains in England,
and that London is continually wreathed in fog. Wait - maybe we wanted
a creepy fog in London? Anyway, we dropped off our luggage at the
haunted Georgian House Hotel, piled into our bus, and headed to the
first
of many tour highlights.
Our
first destination was the famed London Dungeon. The Dungeon was big
-- it took over an hour to navigate--and the costumed actors abused
and ridiculed everyone while demonstrating torture, grave robbing
and the delights (?) of the British justice system. The London Dungeon
was a scream (pun intended). I loved the Plaguesectionand some of
our party got splashed with pus from bursting plague buboes (boils).
The Wicked Women area was also a favorite. The high point for me was
the boat ride through the dark and very creepy sewer.

After
the Dungeon and our long flight, many of us decided to take advantage
of the free time and get in a nap before our Jack the Ripper walk.
However, two of our die-hard brave souls, Alan and Sandra, accompanied
Tony to the Templar Church, once the English headquarters of the Knights
Templar, before they were all excommunicated for heresy. The history
of the Knights Templar is shaded with the occult, and the properties
associated with the order are notorious for strange goings-on and
paranormal encounters. They continued on with a glimpse of St. Paul's
Cathedral and a visit to "Deadman's Walk," the lurking place
of the Black Dog of Newgate. On the way back they managed to locate
The London Stone (more on that later), a Frankenstein-themed eerie
pub with lots of bubbling retorts and evil interior décor.
We understand that they threw back a few drinks there before it was
time for "Jack." You don't know "Jack" until you've
taken the walk! They met us back at the hotel, and we all set off
as a group for the Jack the Ripper Walk.
The
Jack the Ripper walk around East London was very informative, tak
ing
us directly to the sites where the bodies of the butchered women were
found. While some of the landmarks had changed since the murders were
committed, many, like St. Botolphs Church, are the same, and it is
surreal to view them as the dying prostitutes had.
Half
of us grabbed a late meal of some fantastic Indian cuisine near our
hotel, while the other half (less gastronomically adventurous) chose
kebabs. Although our hotel was reputedly haunted
by several ghosts, we all slept soundly and awoke bright and early
for our trip to the British Museum. The traditional English breakfast
provided by the hotel was delightful.
The
British Museum is haunted, not surprising if you take into consideration
all of
the
mummies. Tony wanted to show us one item in particular, the Egyptian
sarcophagus of a woman. After allowing us to photograph it, he then
told us the cursed history of the object. Apparently anyone that photographs
it is doomed. Nice, Tony, thanks a lot. Alan became convinced that
the mummy was out to get him, and even more so after one of the museum
staff gave us the evil eye for 20 minutes. Everyone rated the museum
visit a 5 out of 5, and we were glad we added it to the itinerary.
Before turning us loose in the museum, Tony had taken us on a brief
walking tour of some of Aleister Crowleys favorite haunts. Aleister
boasts the dubious disctinction of being the "wickedest man who
ever lived."
We
walked on to Covent Garden and stopped
in a haunted pub where the bartender first scoffed at our inquiries
about the ghost. Soon he spilled his guts, figuratively speaking,
and admitted to seeing an apparition walk down the alley and disappear
on several occasions.
We
boarded the bus and headed to Hampstead Heath for a march led by Tony.
We joked that we'd inadvertently signed up for the Tony Walker Ghost
Tour/Weight Loss program. The Heath was the hang out for Dick Turpin,
the notorious "highway man." I enjoyed the walk, and along
the way Tony identified traditional herbs
gr
owing
along the paths, and we discussed their magical properties.
We explored a small cemetery with a gorgeous bronze statue and then
we stopped at The Flask Tavern, a local pub, for a quick drink.
Our
next stop was Highgate Cemetery, infamous for the grisly vampire attacks
that occurred in the 1970s. Highgate Cemetery is a huge overgrown
Gothic cemetery with many paths that cut through the overgrowth of
trees
and vines. Our near-dark tour was led by a weird albino guide with
a wandering eye. We named him "Renfield." He methodically
but very carefully locked the gates behind us. He warned us in no
uncertain terms that we must not stray from the path, and he said
it was f
orbidden
to talk about ghosts or vampires. He was very concerned that we wouldn't
make it out of the cemetery before dark. Still photography was allowed,
but he immediately confiscated Stephens's video camera and locked
it in the office. Obviously he is in league with the vampires.
We
looked for the sealed tomb of the Highgate vampire, but were unable
to identify it. However, we did see the tomb that was Bram Stoker's
inspiration for Lucy's tomb in the "Dracu
la"
novel. Renfield showed us the catacombs, and then got angry with me
for taking photos of one of the entrances to them. He said the flash
wasn't a good idea.
He also said that no one was allowed into the catacombs - that they
were off limits. However it was clear that SOMEONE was going into
them, otherwise why would they have had recently installed skylights
in the roof at very regular intervals?
As
the light began to fade he quickly ushered us back to the main gate
- making sure than none of us dawdled.
Highgate is one of the most beautiful cemeteries I've explored, and
very haunted. Ron and I took many digital photographs, both of us
captured anomalies, and we were both able to track them in successive
shots. I hope Ron and Kim enjoyed Ghost Photography 101.
As
if our albino guide Renfield wasn't scary enough, the elderly headmistress
of
the cemetery (picture a somber version of the dead queen mother complete
with a string of pearls) met us at the entrance on our way out. We
didn't let the white hair or the pearls fool us, Renfield was terrified
and intimidated by her and with good reason
she was the scariest
thing we had yet encountered. I can only assume that we didn't suit
the vampire's palate, and I am happy to have made it out alive.

Draw
your own conclusions - but we thought they were protecting someone
- or something - that lurked in the catacombs.
On
the way back to the hotel we stopped for drinks in a wood-paneled
room at The Spaniards Inn, an ancient pub frequented by Dick Turpin
when he was alive, and after death. The apparition of the highwayman
has been sighted in the pub on numerous occasions.
We
had late-night drinks at a very cool pub with what I felt was a mad
scientist décor, called the London Stone.
The
next morning we boarded our bus to Cambridge, England's second
oldest University city, founded in the 1300s. There were lots of small
graveyards in the city with accompanying tales of terror behind them.
It was all very quaint, looking a lot like Harry Potter land. Monks
haunt several of the ancient buildings, which was to be a recurring
theme on our trip. Some of us wanted to shop, so we arranged atime
to meet back at our bus, after lunch. We photographed some of the
more sinister buildings and graveyards, then crossed the river and
boarded the bus. We did see one monk, but he was still breathing,
we think. What a shame.
One
of the most famous hauntings in the world is that of the Borley Rectory,
so it
was
only natural that we stop in at the Borley Church. The house itself
burned down years ago but we spent some time on the church grounds,
which figured prominently in the haunting. Not only does this haunting
involve a monk, but a ghostly nun is sighted here too. 
Tony
and I gave out various ghost-hunting devices to the group and then
we wandered the churchyard, photographing the graves and taking readings.
Stephen was using one of my EMF meters, and he noticed an electromagnetic
spike at one of the graves. Because he is a sweetheart, he picked
some wild flowers and put them on the grave, only to discover that
the EMF readings were even higher than before. He repeatedly put flowers
on the grave and took readings, noting the definite increase each
time. Alan noticed a sarcophagus that was just barely visible through
one of the windows in the back of the church and we took turns braving
the nettles to peer in (as the church was locked).
While
we were exploring the churchyard I noticed a man walking towards me
jangling some keys, so of course I asked if they were the keys to
the church. He said no, sadly, and we started talking about the haunting.
He told us that a skeleton of a woman was found years earlier when
the rectory was being remodeled, and that it was buried at another
church just a few miles up the road. We decided to check it out. Our
bus driver, Billy, managed to turn the bus around and soon we were
exploring another ancient and dilapidated church and cemetery, another
impromptu but worthwhile addition to the tour. This church was almost
completely constructed of shiny black flint; very cool looking. I
even found some bone fragments that looked human. Stephen got another
EMF spike with my meter over the bones, so I buried them again. Hopefully
the ghost is cool with that. I wonder if these were remains of Borley's
spectral nun?
Now
for a quick blurb about our bus driver, Billy. Billy is an older gentleman
with a thick English accent. He managed to get us in and out of some
places that I wouldn't have been able to drive a car into, much less
a bus. He is very good-natured and never complained about our little
variations from the itinerary.
After
we left the churchyard, we drove through the gorgeous English countryside
with its hedgerows and woods. The houses we passed had thatched roofs,
with people playing cricket on village greens. Occasionally we would
see the tower of an ancient church sticking out over the treetops.
We
checked into an Inn called The Crown, which dates back to the Middle
Ages, and is recognized as one of the most haunted inns in Britain.
The Innkeeper related encounters with unseen presences and tales of
cellars full of bones, as well as ghosts in tricorn hats. A lot of
malevolent activity seemed to center on room number 6, so of course
we jumped at the chance to check it out when he offered us the key.
He also told us about the cemetery and old church on the hill over
looking the town. We couldn't resist another cemetery, so after having
dinner in the private dining room, we took a walk through deserted
lanes up the hill to the Church.
It
was a very dark and spooky night, and the road to the church soon
became desolate as we walked out of town and through the fields. The
church tower was lit up with big floodlights, so we joked that it
was all a lure to get
us
into the cemetery at night. I mean, how odd is it that a local wanted
us to investigate thecemetery at night? The graveyard surrounding
the church was surprisingly big, with even more graves across the
road. We all spread out with our cameras and video recorders. I walked
around the back of the church and suddenly the lights on the tower
went out, plunging us into darkness. I hurried to the front to see
who had found the switch. No one had. The lights went out by themselves.
Cool. So we continued to take photographs. Ron was picking up phenomena
in the back area o
f
the graveyard, and soon so was I. It's great and validating when you
can get results simultaneously with two cameras. We got lots of photographswith
orbs lurking around. After the ghosts left, we decided to leave too.
Stephen and Sandra were in the back of the group, and the entire way
they each said that they felt something was following them, something
unseen. Spooky. The walk back through the village was creepy too,
totally silent and deserted, with the exception of one man relieving
himself on a wall near the inn.
Back
at the Crown we decided to assemble in the Inn's most haunted room.
I set up my video camera to shoot in infrared, and then we arranged
ourselves throughout the room and turned out the lights. The ghost
in room number 6 is known for trying to choke the living as they are
sleeping, so we talked Stephen into lying on one of the beds as bait.
Nothing ghostly happened, so Stephen decided to try and provoke a
response by shouting at the ghost. Soon we were getting phenomena
on the video camera, and dim pinpoints of green light were manifesting
near the beds. Alan decided that maybe more bait was needed, so after
declaring his respect and fear of the ghost, he took the other bed.
After a few minutes someone noticed a shadow moving on the wall, and
we all got excited until we realized it was Alan's foot. The activity
slowed, then left, so we called it a night. Despite being warned of
what he might experience, Stephen decided to sleep in one of the more
haunted rooms. Icy drops in temperature twice awakened him, but he
wasn't choked. How disappointing.
The
next morning Billy drove us to Norwich for a formal Ghost Walk. Then
we had lunch at the Adam and Eve Pub, which is an ancient building
haunted by the ghost of Lord Sheffield. The city of Norwich is quaint
with lots of cobbled streets. We didn't have time to see the witch-dunking
area by the river because we had to head to Castle Rising, but we
did get to cruise down the coast and look for the Black Hell Hounds
of Norfolk.
Our
final stop before checking into our hotel was at
Castle
Rising, a haunted keep built in 1140. This had once been the home
of Queen Isabella, known as the "She Wolf of France." The
archeologist in charge of the keep gave us a brief rundown of the
history, and handed us audio tour devices. I asked him not to tell
us anything about the hauntings until after we had explored it on
our own. I didn't want us to have any preconceptions. The castle is
in ruins, but still very impressive. I followed the audio tour until
my device stopped working (always happens to me) and then I walked
around with Tony, asking for pertinent information about each room.
We
climbed up the tower stairs and entered a dark hallway, then turned
into a well-lit room. I expected the room to be warm, because of the
many windows and the sunlight. However, it was several degrees colder
than the dark hall we had just left.
I
noticed a haze at the end of the room, but thought it was some kind
of weird lighting effect from the windows. Tony remarked about it
too, and then we noticed that the haze was moving towards one corner
of the room. It sort of
condensed
into the corner, and then disappeared. Tony went back out to the bus
to retrieve his non-contact thermometer, and I photographed the outside
of the room looking for some kind of explanation other than the obvious:
we had just seen a ghost! It was amazing. By the time Tony got back
to the room the temperature was a couple of degrees higher than the
hallway, a definite change from just a few minutes earlier. We talked
to the archeologist on the way out, and he confirmed that many people
have seen a mist in that room. As a paranormal investigator, I have
experienced this mist many times, usually only seeing it on film,
but several times witnessing it right before my eyes, however this
is the first time I have seen it manifest during the day. I tried
to talk the archeologist into letting me set up an infrared video
camera in the room to run overnight, but he was reluctant. Maybe I'll
talk him into it next time.
Later
that night we arrived at the Tudor Rose Hotel in Kings Lynn. I knew
we were in trouble when I saw the dilapidated condition of the sign
out front. The inside
was even worse. It was cursed all right -- with haunted plumbing and
really bad furniture. Nonetheless, we were intrigued by the horrific
murder that took place on the premises, the poltergeist activity,
and the fact that my Walkman was playing by itself when I returned
to my room, so we decided to stick it out.
Kings
Lynn has a Market Place and an interestingly named twisty little building
in a graveyard called "The Exorcist's House." The village
is famous for burning witches in the town square, and legend has it
that one woman was wrongfully accused -- and that while she was being
burned her heart burst from her chest and lodged itself into the wall
of one of the buildings. There is a heart carved into the stone where
the woman's heart is supposed to still be.
We
walked through the town, down a sinister alley to the river, then
to a pub for dinner. Along the way we passed a church and graveyard,
so after dinner some of us went back to do a little ghost hunting.
We did get some phenomena, but nothing spectacular, so we decided
to go to another church nearer the hotel. The ghosts were more active
in that graveyard, and one took a liking to Stephen. It can be seen
in several photographs as an orb, following him around.
The
next day we traveled to a small village named Lincoln, to visit its
haunted cathedral (haunted by monks, of course). This unexpectedly
turned out to be
everyone's
favorite stop. Lincoln Cathedral is huge and located right in the
middle of town. Although it has always been a church, most of the
edifice is covered by pagan looking carvings, some more than a little
risqué.
We
had tea at the White Hart Hotel, a gorgeous building haunted by several
ghosts, including one that is obsessed with his ginger jar.
Tony,
Alan and I explored the Lincoln Castle, and we definitely felt a presence
in the prison chapel. Alan started acting strangely, and soon he was
standing at the pulpit talking to the Holy Ghost. We really think
he was possessed, as Alan is not the most talkative person. Weird.
The pews were very unusual, shaped like standing coffins with openings
for the prisoners' heads to stick out above the locked doors. Alan's
sermon made us hungry, so we left the castle and had some very good
food at Browns Pie Shop. Alan will eat anything, and he tried a pie
made out of entrails of some sort. He seemed to enjoy it. I guess
that confirms that he was possessed
by a strong hunger!
We
met up with the rest of the gang in front of the White Hart for our
proper ghost tour. I've b
een
on many ghost tours and this on was definitely one of the best. Our
tour guide was quite entertaining and very knowledgeable. Unlike many,
she seemed to spend a lot of time investigating the hauntings personally,
and she obviously has a very good rapport with the locals. She told
us about the phantom of a man on a horse, seen by many people in the
early morning rushing through the streets and up to the gates of the
castle, shouting, "open up in the name of the King!" He
is thought to be the ghost of a man who arrived with a pardon from
the King too late to save his friend from execution. She showed us
an archway near the church through where the apparition of a severed
head, rolling down the cobblestones, has been known to trip people.
She showed us a small building in the back of the cathedral with a
h
ole
in the door. Legend has it that if you are sinless, you may walk around
the building three times and then put your finger in the hole you
will feel something paranormal, but I forgot what. Blame it on too
many pints at the pub. Anyway, it's a cool story; just ask about it
the next time you are in Lincoln. If you look closely at the photo
to the right, you can see the legs of a man lying on the ground. He
thought he was sinless
Of course, none of us tried it.
W
e
reluctantly left Lincoln and continued on to York, ghost capital of
England, where we stayed at Hedley House Hotel. It was quite comfortable
but unfortunately not haunted. York dates back to Roman times and
a phantom Roman Legion is seen marching through the walled old part
of town. There are endless medieval buildings and s
ome
really good shopping. It's a lively place with a lot of character
that reminded some of us of the French Quarter in New Orleans. That
night we went out on a haunted pub-crawl and saw some of the local
curiosities, including men without noses and some dwarfs. Somehow
the weird locals were attracted to us. We stayed until the bars were
closing. Of course, we had to sample the local spirits, so to speak.
We looked for phantom monks, but once again they managed to elude
us.
We
woke up early the next morning for our drive over the Moors to Whitby,
a seaside village known for its ties to Dracula. Whitby is the legendary
landing place of Count Dracula in England, and veterans of the vampire
vacation, "Dracula Tour to Transylvania" were familiar with
its literary ties. It's a delightful place with itsruined abbey on
the cliff tops, and its mixture of holidaymakers and Goths. There
were lots of great Goth shops that proved irresistible for Stephen
and Sandra.
We
had all originally planned on doing the "Dracula Experience,"
a commercial horror-themed mini-amusement park, but after seeing the
ruins of Whitby Abbey, the purists among us unanimously changed our
minds and decided instead to hike up the 199 steps to the church.
The ruins are magnificent, perched on top of a cliff overlooking the
North Sea. It's easy to understand why Bram Stoker chose this setting
for Dracula to descend upon England. What a magnificent highlight
of this tour. 
The
abbey is enormous, and photographs cannot convey the grandeur of the
ruins. Even though many visitors were roaming the grounds it was very
quiet, the majesty of the place affecting each of us. Several ghosts,
including more than one monk, haunt it. Of course they didn't want
to be seen or photographed. Ghosts can be such a pain to work with.
Just
before we left Whitby I met with one of the members from www.paranormal.com
and his two sons. They had traveled by bus for 2 hours to meet up
with us. They were delightful, and I wish we had more time to spend
with them. Hopefully next time.
We
headed back to York to dress up for our farewell evening, our gala
masquerade party. This would prove to be a most memorable and eventful
evening. We met outside the hotel and walked to The Golden Fleece,
one of the oldest and certainly most haunted pubs in the heart of
York. Some of us made our way through the crowded streets in full
costume, thus attracting stares and raised eyebrows. After seeing
some of the locals it's amazing that they thought we were dressed
oddly.
Tony
had arranged for a medium to meet us there, and he was waiting for
us outside. We were led to a private dining area upstairs for our
séance. The medium gave us his colorful criminal background,
and made contact with some of the resident ghosts. A couple of ghosts
connected to other members of our group also made their presence known,
and Billy in particular was the subject of much
attention.
The upstairs room was so thick with spirits that Tony actually started
to feel ill. Sometimes spirits affect sensitive people so strongly
that they feel disoriented and nauseous. Many investigators theorize
that this is because of the electromagnetic properties of the entity
that affects our inner ear. I took a photo of Tony in the room, and
there is an orb perfectly visible on the back of his chair. I took
several others, and the entity remained near or on Tony. His demeanor
had changed, and he had a sinister air about him. A few defensive
measures were taken, and he felt ok by the end of the evening, when
we were deep into visualizations, and trying to contact the resident
ghosts.
As
for the dinner itself, the food was very good, although the group
had to make do with Tony and me as servers. The staff at the Golden
Fleece doesn't know the meaning of customer service. The bad news
as that the servers were ghastly, the good news was that everything
else was ghostly. The bartender at the front bar was very nice, and
provided our drinks with apologies and smiles.
After
dinner the medium gave each of us a private tarot card reading, while
Tony did visualization techniques with the rest of us. It was a lot
of fun, and during the
visualization we learned that one ghost in particular was menacing,
if not entirely malevolent. This was the entity that focused on Tony,
I am glad it didn't focus on me. Stephen's visualization manifested
a man in what was once the attic of the building, and Sandra and I
both felt that a spirit was on the stairwell. We tried to contact
the ghost in the attic area, but the menacing male presence in the
room with us managed to stay in the forefront. It was close to midnight
when we decided to make our way back through the streets of York to
the hotel. We kept a look out for roman soldiers and monks, but we
didn't see any, foiled again. That's not
to
say they weren't there, of course.
Our
final day in England started with a lovely drive south from York to
London. We made it in surprisingly good time, and had time to spare,
so Tony squeezed in one more haunted landmark, St. Albans Cathedral
in Hertfordshire. The Cathedral is the site of a
glowing, holy apparition (St Alban himself), and is also haunted by
- you guessed it - monks! The cathedral is gorgeous, and Hertfordshire
is charming. We took photographs of the church and graveyard, then
walked through the park to see remains of the Roman city that once
stood there. On the way we had some English ice cream. Then we were
back on the bus to the airport. Nooooooooooo!
We
made it to the airport with enough time to sit and talk about our
adventures, having encountered some supernatural beings, trekked through
obscure locales, and learned a few new English phrases that we couldn't
use back in America (speed humps, fags and mint balls among them).
We
had a small but very tight group, and I think we were all honored
to have traveled on this inaugural "GHOSTour."

I
want to say thanks to Tony, who did a fantastic job of shepherding
us around England (and who lugged my enormous suitcase up many flights
of stairs), and to Billy, who really is a magnificent bus driver,
and very good company. Thanks to Kim and Ron for never being too tired
to check out just one more cemetery. Thanks to Alan for the great
conversation, and for protecting me from the mummy, and thanks to
Charles for giving me the opportunity to experience haunted England
and to meet some wonderful people. Thanks to Stephen and Sandra for
taking that vulnerable back position on the creepy walks back to the
hotels. Thanks also to Sandra for being cool and Gothic, thanks to
Stephen and Alan for being the true characters of our group, and thanks
to Ron and Kim for lending some normalcy to the insanity. Special
thanks to Charles and Danny from "Tours of Terror" for organizing
such amazing haunted tours -- for those of us who'd rather explore
the eerie and unknown than go on traditional, boring vacations. The
tour group adds thanks to Kriss for helping make sure everyone got
in enough scares and laughs and paranormal encounters.
All photos by K
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