Things That Go Bump In the Night

1 month, 31 days, 744 hours, 44640 minutes, 2678400 seconds - at last our self imposed sober hell came to an end, not that we had been counting the time or anything. So it was time to celebrate but what could we do - a lovely meal, nightclub, cocktail lounge - far too obvious - a bottle of wine and a night in a haunted hotel room - bingo!

Whilst reading our Lonely Planet Guide Ed had found info on a village called St Bathans:

"If a trip to St Bathans leaves you with an eerie tingle down your spine, you're not the first. Set in a hollow in what feels close to the middle of nowhere, this tiny village is believed to be haunted. Ask the proprietor at the Vulcan Hotel and you'll get an adamant nod followed by a quick look over her shoulder. Doors opening and closing, missing objects and books flying off the shelves are her frequent reminders of the nonpaying hotel guest."

It had to be done, so on Wednesday morning we set off with our ghost busting supplies - a bumper size bag of crisps, dry roasted peanuts and a $5 bottle of wine.

St Bathans was indeed as spooky as promised, once a thriving gold mining town with a population of 2000 people, numbers have dwindled somewhat in recent times to a grand total of 4, the couple that run the Vulcan Hotel and the couple that run the post office - incidentally we discovered that both couples actually hate each other and don't talk, making for an incredible sense of community!

With a small street lined with historic ruins and preserved gold mining history, we decided to get ourselves into a ghostly frame of mind with a stroll round the cemetery and the crumbling remains of the local school house. Even the Post Mistress got us in the mood with classic lines such as "This is a post office not a ghost office" and "If you drink too many spirits you may just see some spirits" - personally, I felt the last line could have done with a little more work.

So with much anticipation and a raging desire to drink as much lager as humanely possible, we checked ourselves in at the Vulcan Hotel. Mike, the landlord, served us our first pint, our first for a month I told him. "Fucking hell, you're not a pair of gay boys are you?" he joked. "Actually yes" I said. Sudden hush in the bar as everyone turned to look at us. "Are you fucking serious, fucking hell, don't worry I'm not homophobic or anything, I'm just going to murder you in the morning!" From that moment on we knew our night in a haunted room was not going to be quite as we'd hoped.
Room 1, where we were staying, was one of four and we were the only people staying that night. The story went that our room used to be home to a local prostitute who was brutally murdered one evening, by a client who stole all of her money. Ever since her presence has been felt in a number of ways.

Recreating TV's 'Most Haunted' - Ed taking the role of Derek Acorah and me as Yvette Fielding - we sadly felt no presence and heard no noises. So we decided to venture back into the bar to question Judy, the more friendly other half to Mike. By this time the bar was empty and to say Judy was shitfaced is a gross understatement. We could tell the level of her intoxication by the amount of time it took her to attempt to put a fallen flip flop back on her foot - approx 5 mins before she gave up and slipped the other one off to avoid embarrassment. She told us that she had owned the bar for 7 years and undoubtedly there was a ghost, grabbing a Woman's Weekly from behind the bar she opened it at a recently written article about Room 1. It was this section that caught my eye:

"When new proprietors arrive to take over the running of the hotel, the ghost becomes especially active. Mike and Jude found a gin bottle had been emptied, and pictures on the wall were rearranged. Jude's banking books had mysteriously vanished, yet she eventually found them exactly where she had left them."

Ummm an empty gin bottle and things disappearing only to reappear exactly where they had been left. It all became horribly clear. We retired to our blatantly non haunted room, ate peanuts and had a brilliant nights sleep. Disappointing on the ghost front, although we did notice something unusual in a photograph we had taken.

So this brought us to the end of our Kiwi experience. With just enough time to stop off at Mount Cook, quite possibly the most beautiful place we have ever visited, we are now flying back to Australia for Mardi Gras, the royal visit from Jake Senior and the thing we have been dreading the most - it begins with w and has ork in it. Ed is already shaking just at the thought of it.