Spent Saturday night in Nottingham on another ghost hunt. Mock me if you wish, but they can be very entertaining and it’s cheaper than going to the pub. It also means I can get to explore places not usually open to the public, or if they are – how much more fun is it to rake about in them after dark?
We arrived at the hotel – Park Inn by Radisson and I was very excited to realise it included a full breakfast buffet (I’m easily pleased). My pal hadn’t eaten, so once we’d checked in and found our room we headed to the restaurant so she could eat before our long night ahead. She was concerned we might look a little geekish in our matching Paranormal Investigator hoodies but she needn’t have worried. We were about the only guests there who weren’t part of a Science Fiction literature and art conference. By a country mile, we were most certainly NOT the geekiest people in the hotel!
After an Anneka Rice Treasure Hunt style car journey and musical car parks, we finally arrived a fashionable 30 minutes late to the Galleries of Justice in the centre of Nottingham. We hadn’t missed much and I found out lots of interesting history about the place from the security dude while I waited for my pal to park up.
It was the usual fare of, “Is there anybody there?”. Except we weren’t allowed to say the word “anybody” in case we invited in demagorgons from another realm or something. We were having a go on a ouija board, (which usually bore me to death), it’s all ideomotor effect let’s face it. Nothing much was happening. It was all rather, “Ready to order Madam?” Julie Walters Two Soups. Lol.
One of the event staff asked if we were getting anything. When we said it was all moving rather slowly (like a glacier), he said “Right, well I’ll tell you now, it’s an 8 year old girl in a white nightie with long blonde hair and she’s called Abigail.” I asked him how he knew that and was told, “Because while you’re on that board, I’m talking to them all”.
I did point out that we were wasting our time then sat in the dark with our fingers stuck to a glass, talking to ourselves, if supposedly he had all the gen already. It was a bit of a Shirley Ghostman moment.
I was mostly looking forward to exploring the extensive underground cave system that runs underneath Nottingham. I had no idea it was so massive? I thought it would be like Sunbridge Wells in Bradford.
Fascinating stuff. You should check it out. Although after having gone in the dead of night, wandering about with torches off and laser grids on, I expect it’s not as thrilling in the daytime when full of tourists and school parties.
I bottled a chance to do a lone vigil in a pitch black cell, but my pal had a go (and a snooze). I did learn that a fart in an oubliette is a bit echoey and that eating cheese on toast for supper makes my belly make very strange noises in the dead of night that tend to alarm people in the dark.
My friend learned that she needs to tighten the straps on her swimsuit to avoid any Janet Jackson at the Superbowl type incidents. (I hasten to add that weren’t in swimsuits in the caves at 4am – this was the next day at the hotel).
We shared a hotel lift with Adrian Tchaikovsky who kindly pointed us in the direction of the pool and we almost got a job clearing a house of an unwanted spirit, but my friend wasn’t quick enough off the mark to take on the job. I blame 4 hours sleep for impairing her business sensibilities*.
So, despite not encountering anything remotely ghostlike, never mind demons from another realm – at best a few flickery lights, doubtless due to dodgy wiring and an odd feeling in the claustrophobic locked dungeon cell – we had a fun, but spiritually uneventful, night. Funnily enough, nothing like the episode of ‘Most Haunted’ where it was all objects being thrown (**cough, ahem Karl**) and lifts stopping and starting.
The only thing we almost brought home was someone else’s mattress, when one almost landed on the windshield as we drove out of Nottingham. True story!
Next stop on our Ghost Adventures will be Knottingley Town Hall in February and a revisit to the infamous East Drive house in March for a sleepover.
I think he can hear you Ray
Sleep tight y’all.
Ciao Tutti Xx
* FYI we charge reasonable rates and no storage fees