Ghost Hunter

Here I am on the train again, this time to Chester.  What started as a beautiful sunny day in London is quickly turning into a cloudy, gray afternoon.  One thing I've noticed since the last train trip to Shrewsbury is that the sheep have been sheared.  They look much thinner.

But back to Shrewsbury.  It really was a lovely Easter weekend, punctuated by one interesting event.

The Ghost Hunter.

I spent the first day of my trip checking out the castle and taking lots of pictures.  And as it started to get a bit dark, I headed back toward the Inn at the center of the old town.  Shrewsbury is really old and many of it's buildings are half-timbered, leaning out over the cobble-stoned street.  Yes, like a fairy tale.  One plaque announces itself to be "Ye ancient house in which King Henry the Seventh loged (sic) when he went to Bosworth Field Aug 1485."

About 5 miles outside of town is the site of Wroxeter.  Now ruins of the Roman baths, it was once a thriving town of 5000, mostly Roman Soldiers and their families.  The Roman Baths were a curious place.  I remember from earlier visits to Bath and other ruins, the Roman Baths were a place of socializing.  Sort of like the modern day gym.  People would "take exercise"  (take it where?) in a long field called the "nave" which was lined with tall columns on either side and long "aisles" next to those.  This was all part of a basilica.  The resemblance to a catherdral both in site and name was not lost on me.  After exercise, the sweaty Romans would proceed into the tepid room and from there into the hot baths followed by a cold plunge.  The steam room and sauna were also available.  I wondered if they had towel service back in those days as well as a juice bar staffed by buxom local girls.

Shrewsbury Town Square

By the way - it is common courtesy when getting ready to board a train (like an elevator) to let the passangers off first.  People of Crewe, where I'm changing trains, clearly didn't get that memo.

OK, back to Shrewsbury.  So, as the day was winding down, I headed back to The Old Post Office where I was staying.  Not a Post Office at all but an old coach station dating back to 1530.  On my way, I stopped to take photos at the town square.  Another 16th Century building with an open ground floor and offices above.  As I was snapping away, a man approached and said, "They sold corn here."  I must have looked puzzeled as he repeated himself.  "It was an agricultural place and they sold corn.  See?  This is where they would count the bushels sold for the day."  He pointed to a series of holes drilled into the wall.  Apparently, a peg was moved around to determine how many sold vs how many left.  I fully took in the sight of my new tour guide.  With his bad combover, squinty eyes hiding behind large framed glasses and the khaki-tan Members Only jacket, he reminded me of Stanley Tucci's character in The Lovely Bones.  And that was disturbing.  But maybe that's just how he looked.  A group of teens walked by the plaza and I heard one of them yell, "stranger danger!"  Hmmm.  Not a coincidence.  And I'm not the only one who thinks he's creepy.  So Stanley (I never did get his name) told me about the court that used to be on the upper floor, with its infamous hangin' judge.  Executed 60 people in one day!  Stanley looked at his watch.  He was supposed to meet his friends for a ghost tour.  Ooooo!  I love ghost tours!  Oddly, Stanley didn't do the normal thing of offering an invitation, as you do or at least a polite reason why there isn't an invitation.  And besides, I thought, it was still broad daylight.  They never have tours in the daytime.  Odd.  So Stanley wandered back to the Square to wait on his friends.  I headed to the hotel to look up area ghost tours.  Couldn't find anything that runs outside of October.  So I wandered back to the Square but tried to stay a bit hidden.  I just wanted to see if there was in fact a group gathering for a tour.  Maybe I could crash.  But I didn't see any group, or any one for that matter.

By now, it was 8pm and time to get dinner.  It was the night before Easter, so it was a quiet evening in town.  I went back to the Old Post Office to get a pub meal.  After ordering a nice curry, I sat with my Guinness.  And lo and behold - there was Stanley.  He saw me, despite my best efforts to not make eye contact, and came over to sit.  He also had a Guinness and decided that made us best friends.  His friends never showed up for their ghost tour.  He went on to tell me how much he enjoys doing the ghost thing and that he has a friend that joins him on certain paranormal excursions such as spending the night in a haunted house.  Now, I love ghost stories.  Many of my friends love ghost stories.  But something about this guy was just ringing the alarm bells.  Maybe he is just socially inept?  Perhaps he's a computer nerd who doesn't know how to talk to people.  Or he's a serial killer looking for his next target.  Not wanting to be over-dramatic, but since I was traveling alone, I decided it was safer to assume the latter.

I kept the subjects to him and his ghosts, not wanting to reveal any details about myself or the fact that I was staying right above the room where we were.  And by the way - how in the world did he end up at the same pub I was in?  There were scores of open pubs in that area, and this one was a bit tucked away.  Creeepy.

He told me that he's seen the ghosts of the Two Princes in the Tower.  They were looking out the window.  He also said the most haunted place he's ever been is Clerkenwell Prison.  My heart skipped a beat.  Once again, without my ever telling him anything about me, he happened to name a place that is only a mile from where I live in London.  Creeeepy.

"They have EIGHT ghosts!  EIGHT!   I've seen them."  His eyes were wide.  He went on to list some other places that are really haunted.  I was just starting to get more info on the Tower, as it is one of my personal favorites, when my curry arrived.  I thought given the tenacity of this guy, I'd have a hard time getting rid of him.  But he suddenly sprang up and started apologizing profusely.  I suddenly wanted him to stay and finish his ghost stories while I ate.  Then I thought maybe it really is for the best, given his resemblance to an on-screen pedophile-serial killer.  Or actually any pedophile-serial killer.  They all have that look, you know?  It's the Members Only jacket.  Anyway I decided I could just as easily look up ghost stories on Wikipedia and I was better off without his looming over me as I ate.

A bit later, a girl walked in from outside where she'd just had a cigarette.  Her group, sitting next to me, seemed concerned.  "Who was that guy?"  "Oh, just some weird guy who does ghost tours," she replied.  Ah.  He pulls this with all the girls.

I felt a little better for some reason.  Although he was still keeping an eye on me from a distance.  Probably waiting for an opportunity to engage in another conversation.  When he seemed out of sight, I slipped up the stairs to my room.  Just in case, I pushed the chair under the doorknob.  And later, stacked a table on top of it.  It was an old pub - who knows the integrity of the locks?  I felt safe enough until I had to go to the bathroom.  It was down the hall which meant I had to unstack and re-stack every time.  My plan didn't take that into account. 

I never saw Stanley again.  Unless he comes back to visit he favorite haunted places in London..!