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| The Keltic Lodge is a world-class resort on the Middle Had Peninsula near Ingonish Beach in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The property features a spa, swimming pool, full-service restaurant, bar and a variety of rooms for various budgets and preferences. A beautiful hiking trail is also nearby and the views around the resort, which include Cape Smokey Mountain and Ingonish Beach, are spectacular. The property is also rumored to be haunted which gives it added appeal. |
Showing posts with label haunted. Show all posts
Showing posts with label haunted. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Stay in World Class Accomodations
When it comes to accommodations on Cape Breton Island, the options are endless but one thing for sure is you have your pick of world-class options! Whether you prefer to stay in a fully-equipped hotel, wilderness cabin, quaint B&B, serviced campground or backcountry campsite, you'll find something to suit your taste and your budget.
Saturday, August 15, 2020
Events at the Fortress of Louisbourg
While the Fortress of Louisbourg is open every day during tourist season for tours, there are many other events that happen each year at the fortress including guided tours by candlelight, dinner theatres and concerts. These events tend to book up fast so if you're planning to travel to Cape Breton in the future, make sure to check for events happening at the fortress and book your spot as early as possible!
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| The first event I went to outside of regular fortress hours was a candlelight walking tour of the grounds. The fortress is much different under the cover of darkness and this tour was fantastic. If I remember correctly, there was music and 18th century snacks. |
Friday, August 23, 2019
A Summer Hiking Adventure - Gabarus, Sterling and Framboise
Everyone in my family has a part of Cape Breton Island they love most. My mother loved Cheticamp, my sisters and I love Ingonish and the Highlands and my father loves The Framboise area on the south coast. While I still love Ingonish and the Highlands, over the last few years, my preferences have changed slightly. Recently, the Highlands area has seen a huge surge in tourism and while I think this is fantastic for the island as a whole, I prefer more low-key places where there are less crowds. Gradually, my summer drives and camping trips shifted to the other side of the island in Cheticamp, Margaree and Inverness and most recently, those day trips and overnights shifted to the even more remote areas of the south coast.
When I was a child, my family had a cabin in the Sterling area around Framboise so I became familiar with the area at quite a young age. However, as a teenager, the bustling tourist village of Ingonish was more appealing as there were lots of young people and beach parties and bonfires. Now, I prefer the seclusion of long, lonely beaches and remote wood roads through the forest.
Summer is not my favourite time of year for hiking. I prefer the late spring and early fall when the temperatures are a bit cooler and the black flies and mosquitoes are not as bad. However, a few weeks ago, I decided to embark on a hiking adventure in the Framboise area because our summer here in Cape Breton was off to a slow start.
I started the day near the little fishing village of Gabarus. I wanted to check out the old Oceanview Road which I was told once went all the way through over to Louisbourg. I drove for a few kilometers and reached the point where the road was too rough to keep going. I parked the car and contemplated which direction to go on foot. There were two old roads, one going to the right, the other to the left. I took the one to the right, hiked for about 15 minutes before it got too muddy and turned back. Upon closer inspection, the other road looked quite muddy so I didn't bother hiking it. I should have known there would be mud since there had been so much rain the day before. So that ended the first segment of my adventure.
Next, I drove to the Sterling area. My family's old cabin is no longer there but the land is and every time I pass it, I can still picture that old white bungalow with the big rose bush in front. Something I remember vividly is asking dad to pull the shutters back so we could watch the bats awake from their slumber and fly away into the trees. For some strange reason, the other thing I remember is a pillow shaped like a guitar that had been left there by the previous owner, a schoolteacher who also left behind some other interesting items. I slowed down in the area where I was sure an old pioneer graveyard used to be located. My dad took me there a few years ago and while it was fairly easy to find back than, it proved a lot more difficult this time around. Some trees had been cut in the area for pulp and the path that used to lead to the graveyard must have grown in because it was no longer a visible impression through the forest. I drove back and forth looking for any indication of an old road and finally, I found it when I looked closely at a spot that looked more beaten down than the areas around it. I was right; it led right to the old graveyard. When I wander these old graveyards and look around at the old headstones of the area's pioneering people , I think about what it must have been like to live in the area in those times. These people once thrived here, had homes and farms and families. I imagine it was much different from the ghost town it is today. After wandering around and looking at some of the very old headstones for a while, I next headed to the old Sterling Mine site.
When I was a child, I was told that the old Sterling Mine site is haunted and even today, that place still gives me the creeps. The older folks used to say that you could hear the workings of the mine long after the mine had closed. Any time I've gone there, there was no one else around although there are plenty of signs of people being around. Illegally dumped garbage, gravity sprayed all over the old foundations and crumbling buildings are evidence of human activity at the site however, I suspect this activity takes place in the dead of night and I would never dare go near this place after dark. On this day, the only recent sign of life was some footprints. Deer, lynx and coyote footprints to be exact.
I walked over to the edge of what I nicknamed the "Cape Breton Desert" because of the wide open space devoid of trees (except for a few creepy dead ones) and crumbly terrain that resembled sand. It's not really a desert. I'm not exactly sure how this landscape came to be but, due to the fact that the Sterling Mine site is the only place that has such a landscape on the island, my guess is it's directly caused by the mining activities that took place there. I'm guessing the lack of trees was perhaps caused by chemicals used in the mining process and the sand-like ground is actually a spongy hard mud likely created by years of mine workings that destroyed the natural earth. I've been to a real desert before and walking across this man-made desert is much like the real thing. It's dead quiet, loose debris slowly tumbles across the landscape and a constant wind coming from the forest at the edges turns into a howling breeze that sends goosebumps down my spine and up my arms. The only thing missing is cactus and and scorching heat.
It was quite eerie walking across that landscape, especially when it seemed like I was the only person who had walked across it in, well, forever. There were no other footprints except for the lone trail of a coyote who must have scattered across earlier that morning. I followed his trail to the little brook on the right edge of the desert landscape, hoping he wasn't waiting for me there. I'm sure he wasn't far off, curious creatures that they are. He was probably watching me through the trees the whole time, perhaps contemplating pouncing on the small hiker trespassing on his territory or perhaps simply interested in learning what on earth brought me there. What brought me there was a childhood memory of crossing this exact vast wasteland decades earlier with my parents. I thought it was spooky even then. There were rumors floating around that gold could be found around the old mine. My parents, ever the adventurous souls looking for a new adventure to embark on, bought some gold pans and we set out to strike it rich. We found some. Not enough to get rich off of though. Just some fine flakes to stir enough excitement in us kids to make us naively think we might just strike it rich.
As I continued to walk across that desolate landscape toward the distant treeline, a light mist began to fall and the fog started rolling in and this made that creepy landscape even creepier. When I reached the treeline, I didn't dare go into the dark forest. I had a strange feeling that something was watching me from the darkness within. The mist turned into a light rain and eventually, I made my way back across the desert to the car.
When I returned to the car, the rain had stopped so I walked around the remains of the old mine site. Some crumpling buildings covered in graffiti were scattered about but it's the little pond to the right of the buildings that sends shivers down my spine. It is said, the pond, which is man-made and used to be part of the mine workings, is bottomless. Well, I'm sure that is slightly exaggerated but it is quite deep. The thing that really freaks me out about it is it doesn't get deep gradually; it falls off right at the edge. So if you can't swim and end up slipping into this pond, you may never be found.
My next stop was new to me. Yes, believe it or not, despite all the time I've spent exploring Cape Breton Island, in particular this region of the island, there are still places that are yet to be explored. I drove toward Grand River and turned at the road I noticed many times but never bothered to drive down. I was curious to know where MacDonald Road led and decided to make this my last adventure of the day.
I love driving on old wood roads that lead into the unknown. I love not knowing what is behind every turn and this road is long, remote and has many turns. I only worried a little when the road kept going longer than I thought it would but the worry quickly turned to curiosity, as it usually does, because now I had to know what was at the end. Eventually, the road got narrower and rougher and I reached a point where I could not go any further. I was next to a large field with an old cabin. I exited the car and proceeded on foot along what remained of the old road.
I heard there was a very old bridge somewhere on this old road and when I realized I was walking alongside water, I figured I would be crossing it at some point. I came upon a path that led to the water so, naturally, I followed it. I reached the water's edge and had to turn right back around as the flies were too bad. I continued for only another few minutes on the old road before reaching the water again. This time, I found the old bridge. Or, more accurately, what remained of the old bridge. I looked for a way to cross but there was none unless I walked through the unknown depths of the raging water that separated me and the other side. I reached the end of the road. Intent on not wasting my journey through the fly infested wilderness, I took a seat on some rocks near the water where there was a nice breeze and cracked open a cold beer...my usual ritual after a long day of hiking.
When I was a child, my family had a cabin in the Sterling area around Framboise so I became familiar with the area at quite a young age. However, as a teenager, the bustling tourist village of Ingonish was more appealing as there were lots of young people and beach parties and bonfires. Now, I prefer the seclusion of long, lonely beaches and remote wood roads through the forest.
Summer is not my favourite time of year for hiking. I prefer the late spring and early fall when the temperatures are a bit cooler and the black flies and mosquitoes are not as bad. However, a few weeks ago, I decided to embark on a hiking adventure in the Framboise area because our summer here in Cape Breton was off to a slow start.
I started the day near the little fishing village of Gabarus. I wanted to check out the old Oceanview Road which I was told once went all the way through over to Louisbourg. I drove for a few kilometers and reached the point where the road was too rough to keep going. I parked the car and contemplated which direction to go on foot. There were two old roads, one going to the right, the other to the left. I took the one to the right, hiked for about 15 minutes before it got too muddy and turned back. Upon closer inspection, the other road looked quite muddy so I didn't bother hiking it. I should have known there would be mud since there had been so much rain the day before. So that ended the first segment of my adventure.
When I was a child, I was told that the old Sterling Mine site is haunted and even today, that place still gives me the creeps. The older folks used to say that you could hear the workings of the mine long after the mine had closed. Any time I've gone there, there was no one else around although there are plenty of signs of people being around. Illegally dumped garbage, gravity sprayed all over the old foundations and crumbling buildings are evidence of human activity at the site however, I suspect this activity takes place in the dead of night and I would never dare go near this place after dark. On this day, the only recent sign of life was some footprints. Deer, lynx and coyote footprints to be exact.
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When I returned to the car, the rain had stopped so I walked around the remains of the old mine site. Some crumpling buildings covered in graffiti were scattered about but it's the little pond to the right of the buildings that sends shivers down my spine. It is said, the pond, which is man-made and used to be part of the mine workings, is bottomless. Well, I'm sure that is slightly exaggerated but it is quite deep. The thing that really freaks me out about it is it doesn't get deep gradually; it falls off right at the edge. So if you can't swim and end up slipping into this pond, you may never be found.
My next stop was new to me. Yes, believe it or not, despite all the time I've spent exploring Cape Breton Island, in particular this region of the island, there are still places that are yet to be explored. I drove toward Grand River and turned at the road I noticed many times but never bothered to drive down. I was curious to know where MacDonald Road led and decided to make this my last adventure of the day.
I love driving on old wood roads that lead into the unknown. I love not knowing what is behind every turn and this road is long, remote and has many turns. I only worried a little when the road kept going longer than I thought it would but the worry quickly turned to curiosity, as it usually does, because now I had to know what was at the end. Eventually, the road got narrower and rougher and I reached a point where I could not go any further. I was next to a large field with an old cabin. I exited the car and proceeded on foot along what remained of the old road.
I heard there was a very old bridge somewhere on this old road and when I realized I was walking alongside water, I figured I would be crossing it at some point. I came upon a path that led to the water so, naturally, I followed it. I reached the water's edge and had to turn right back around as the flies were too bad. I continued for only another few minutes on the old road before reaching the water again. This time, I found the old bridge. Or, more accurately, what remained of the old bridge. I looked for a way to cross but there was none unless I walked through the unknown depths of the raging water that separated me and the other side. I reached the end of the road. Intent on not wasting my journey through the fly infested wilderness, I took a seat on some rocks near the water where there was a nice breeze and cracked open a cold beer...my usual ritual after a long day of hiking.
Friday, April 7, 2017
A Tour of Edinburgh Castle and a Solo Visit to one of the World's Most Haunted Graveyards
Continued from...
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
All the walking and exploring must have done me in by my third morning in Edinburgh as I slept in a wee bit longer than I usually would (I also picked up on some local lingo...WEE - Adjective Scottish - meaning little). I didn't bother with breakfast at the hotel because I still had leftovers from my trip to a nearby grocery store the night before. On my way up the street, grabbed a cafe mocha (for some reason this became my drink of choice during my time in Scotland) at a place called Dino's Cafe on the Royal Mile and headed towards Edinburgh Castle.
I took my time walking along the Royal Mile in the late-morning sun. It was a surprisingly lovely, warm September day and I wanted to make the most of my last full day in Edinburgh. I noticed more shops and restaurants I hadn't noticed the previous days and the pipers and buskers were out in full force.
I arrived at the castle to the sounds of Scotland the Brave being performed by a lone piper outfitted in full traditional regalia. A large crowd had gathered around the entrance of the castle and the lineup to get through was quite long. Fortunately for me, I had already purchased my tickets online a couple of weeks earlier and one of the perks of buying in advance was it allowed visitors to skip the lineup and go right on into the castle grounds.
I knew from looking at pictures and from what I had heard that Edinburgh Castle is big but I wasn't expecting it to be quite as big as it actually is. I put an entire afternoon aside to visit thinking it would be enough time and it wasn't. I wandered around trying to see as much as possible and got lost a few times because the place is like a maze! I visited the National War Museum of Scotland and tried to find the exhibit that features something about the Cape Breton Highlanders but didn't find it. I watched a man in period costume do a pike demonstration (a pike is a type of weapon the Scots used in war, apparently with quite gruesome results). And I got to see the original Crown Jewels of Scotland which left me awestruck as I stood before the real crown jewels worn by Queen Mary of Scots during her coronation in 1543.
I walked around those grounds where battles were fought and royalty once walked and tried to visit every building and every exhibit but I just didn't have time to see it all before closing time. I was one of the last ones to leave in a large crowd of other visitors who were also trying to squeeze as much in as possible. I exited the main gate of the castle and made my way back onto the Royal Mile. It was a nice evening and I didn't want to go back to the hotel just yet. I walked down the street and noticed people were still going into St. Giles Cathedral. I wandered into the grand cathedral which I heard is home to a statue of an angel playing the bagpipes. I picked a good time wander in too; a little orchestra was practicing near the front of the alter and the music was hauntingly captivating.
The inside of the ancient cathedral is beautiful and I could have stayed in there for hours just looking at all the sculptures and artwork. I noticed some war memorial plaques on the wall and scrolled through the names to see if I could see my last name among them. I saw MacDonald and MacLellan and MacKenzie...but, alas, no MacEachern.
It was almost dark when I left St. Giles and my time in Edinburgh was running out. I wanted to ensure my last night in the city would be memorable so I pondered my options while taking a break in Parliament Square. One thing I knew for sure was I wasn't ready to return to the hotel just yet. I remember thinking that the calm weather and impending darkness made for perfect conditions to take another stroll through Greyfriar's courtyard...alone and by the light of the moon and stars only.
It took a while for me to find the Greyfriar's Kirkyard although I had already been there twice. Once I found it, I entered and was pleased to see that I had it all to myself. I saw no shadows or figures of living beings lurking around but I was hoping for non-living ones.
I walked around until I found a comfortable place to sit. I listened carefully but all I heard was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. When my eyes were sufficiently adjusted to the darkness, I peered into the night searching for any sign of shadowy figures or apparitions but all I saw were headstones. I spotted the tomb of Sir George "Bluidy" MacKenzie. I stared at that creepily imposing building, waiting for some figure to come out of it or to hear a blood-curdling scream. Nothing. So I walked right up to it, did a 360 degree turn to make sure no one was watching and checked the door. Locked. I'm certain I would have gone in had it been unlocked. I love everything paranormal but I remain a skeptic. I always will be until I see or experience something undoubtedly paranormal. That night in Greyfriar's Kirkyard, said to the one of the most haunted locations in the world, I got nothing. No kicks, slaps, punches or pinches. No disembodied voices. No ghostly apparitions. Not even the heebie jeebies. Heck, the hair on the back of my neck didn't even stand up.
Upon leaving Greyfriar's, I got lost again. I love getting lost in new cities though so it wasn't a big deal. It's during those times that I find the places that are not in the guide books. I walked and walked, not really knowing where I was going, and just watched all the people out for a stroll in that beautiful city on a Saturday night. I went up streets I hadn't seen before, went through little alleyways that led to other unfamiliar streets and up some stairs that led to another street. Edinburgh is probably the only city I have traveled to so far where I felt 100% safe doing this at night by myself.
When I did finally find my hotel, I settled into the bar area and ordered myself a plate of Veggie Lasagna (which was delicious by the way!) and a beer. The excitement of the city as I saw it through the restaurant window had me torn between going to bed after I ate so I could be well-rested for my early wake-up call the next morning...or taking another stroll, my last evening stroll, up The Royal Mile. I finished my meal, grabbed a heavier sweater from my room and enjoyed a long stroll up that lively street on that last night in the City of Edinburgh. You only live once right?
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
All the walking and exploring must have done me in by my third morning in Edinburgh as I slept in a wee bit longer than I usually would (I also picked up on some local lingo...WEE - Adjective Scottish - meaning little). I didn't bother with breakfast at the hotel because I still had leftovers from my trip to a nearby grocery store the night before. On my way up the street, grabbed a cafe mocha (for some reason this became my drink of choice during my time in Scotland) at a place called Dino's Cafe on the Royal Mile and headed towards Edinburgh Castle.
I took my time walking along the Royal Mile in the late-morning sun. It was a surprisingly lovely, warm September day and I wanted to make the most of my last full day in Edinburgh. I noticed more shops and restaurants I hadn't noticed the previous days and the pipers and buskers were out in full force.
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The inside of the ancient cathedral is beautiful and I could have stayed in there for hours just looking at all the sculptures and artwork. I noticed some war memorial plaques on the wall and scrolled through the names to see if I could see my last name among them. I saw MacDonald and MacLellan and MacKenzie...but, alas, no MacEachern.
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It was almost dark when I left St. Giles and my time in Edinburgh was running out. I wanted to ensure my last night in the city would be memorable so I pondered my options while taking a break in Parliament Square. One thing I knew for sure was I wasn't ready to return to the hotel just yet. I remember thinking that the calm weather and impending darkness made for perfect conditions to take another stroll through Greyfriar's courtyard...alone and by the light of the moon and stars only.
It took a while for me to find the Greyfriar's Kirkyard although I had already been there twice. Once I found it, I entered and was pleased to see that I had it all to myself. I saw no shadows or figures of living beings lurking around but I was hoping for non-living ones.
I walked around until I found a comfortable place to sit. I listened carefully but all I heard was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. When my eyes were sufficiently adjusted to the darkness, I peered into the night searching for any sign of shadowy figures or apparitions but all I saw were headstones. I spotted the tomb of Sir George "Bluidy" MacKenzie. I stared at that creepily imposing building, waiting for some figure to come out of it or to hear a blood-curdling scream. Nothing. So I walked right up to it, did a 360 degree turn to make sure no one was watching and checked the door. Locked. I'm certain I would have gone in had it been unlocked. I love everything paranormal but I remain a skeptic. I always will be until I see or experience something undoubtedly paranormal. That night in Greyfriar's Kirkyard, said to the one of the most haunted locations in the world, I got nothing. No kicks, slaps, punches or pinches. No disembodied voices. No ghostly apparitions. Not even the heebie jeebies. Heck, the hair on the back of my neck didn't even stand up.
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| Sir George "Bluidy" MacKenzie's tomb |
Upon leaving Greyfriar's, I got lost again. I love getting lost in new cities though so it wasn't a big deal. It's during those times that I find the places that are not in the guide books. I walked and walked, not really knowing where I was going, and just watched all the people out for a stroll in that beautiful city on a Saturday night. I went up streets I hadn't seen before, went through little alleyways that led to other unfamiliar streets and up some stairs that led to another street. Edinburgh is probably the only city I have traveled to so far where I felt 100% safe doing this at night by myself.
When I did finally find my hotel, I settled into the bar area and ordered myself a plate of Veggie Lasagna (which was delicious by the way!) and a beer. The excitement of the city as I saw it through the restaurant window had me torn between going to bed after I ate so I could be well-rested for my early wake-up call the next morning...or taking another stroll, my last evening stroll, up The Royal Mile. I finished my meal, grabbed a heavier sweater from my room and enjoyed a long stroll up that lively street on that last night in the City of Edinburgh. You only live once right?
Sunday, March 26, 2017
The Haunted Graveyards and Underground Vaults of Edinburgh
Continued from:
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
It was starting to get dark as I made my way back onto the Royal Mile and to the square near St. Giles Cathedral. The street was alive with tourists and locals alike gearing up for a Friday night in Edinburgh. The solemn sounds of distant bagpipes mixed with the laughter and chatter of half-cut revelers priming for a big night out on the town could be heard. A new bride exited St. Giles Cathedral with her new groom. Office-dwellers dressed in business suits walked hurriedly towards waiting cabs presumably as excited for it to be Friday night. With a few minutes to kill before meeting my guide from Auld Reekie Tours, I stopped in at Cafe Nero and ordered a Cafe Mocha to go. I arrived at the waiting spot and, for what seemed like a long time, I was the only person there. I was beginning to think I had the wrong directions when other people started to show up. Not long after, Ethel, who would take us on a nighttime tour of Greyfriar's Kirkyard and The Underground Vaults, arrived.
I was excited to visit Greyfriar's Kirkyard again but this time under the cover of darkness. As we walked toward the graveyard, Ethel explained that it's one of the most haunted locations in the world and past guests on the tour had been physically attacked by the angry spirit of Sir George Mackenzie, the man who imprisoned, maltreated and even murdered hundreds of Presbyterian Covenanters. As Ethel was explaining this, it became evident that some of the guests on the tour had already gotten a head start on the drinking. Their laughing, cussing and plain ol' disruptive behavior caused Ethel to show her more authoritative side. I personally thought she should have had them spend some alone time in Sir George MacKenzie's tomb to set them straight.
While I admit the graveyard was quite creepy in the dark, I didn't get any spine-tingling feelings or sense anything off about the place, although I was hoping I would. Sometimes I get these strange feelings when I visit a location and have no explanation for it. The feeling of the hair on the back of my neck standing up or that someone is watching me. I get these feelings every time I visit Warren Lake in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The place just creeps the heck out of me. That night at Greyfriar's Courtyard, one of the most haunted locations in the world, I didn't get punched, slapped or kicked like others have reported and it was quite disappointing. I wondered if it was due to me being with such a large group. I pondered the idea of returning to the graveyard alone the following night.
Our next stop was the underground vaults which are also a hotspot of paranormal activity. I was surprised to learn some of the history of these vaults and what they were used for over the years. I can't imagine up to thirty people living in one of those dark, damp, tiny spaces but, at one time, immigrants hoping to prosper in a new life in Edinburgh did just that and faced disappointment and even death. Disease was rampant and so was criminal activity. The plague was particularly unforgiving in those conditions and if it didn't kill you, it was likely you would fall victim to murder. If you weren't lucky enough to make a living above ground in Edinburgh, eventually you fell into a life of crime to survive. Illicit activities such as gambling, prostitution and robbery were just some of the professions many fell into while trying to survive in the underground vaults. The police only turned a blind eye to it all. As far as anyone above ground was concerned, the vaults were out-of-site and therefore out-of-mind as long as it stayed below ground. While I can admit that the vaults were also quite creepy, I can also say that I did not get any goosebumps or heebie jeebies.
The walk back to the hotel was interesting to say the least. It was still fairly early but it was starting to get a bit rowdy. I took the long way around and started at the top of the street and made my way down and around a couple of blocks. I wanted to get a feel of what Edinburgh is like on a Friday night. I passed lots of drunken stag and hen parties and rowdy students already three sheets to the wind, some ready to be carried home even at that early on an hour. I made my way through the crowd of staggering revelers like an old pro. I had been in the city not even two full days and I was already navigating the crowded streets like a local, weaving in and out of crowds. As I walked, I noticed some comical signs had been put out outside some of the pubs to lure in the weekend crowd. Lots of signs advertising Haggis and beer. I told myself before I left home I would force myself to try Haggis while in Scotland but once I arrived, I couldn't get myself to do it. Many people tried to convince me that I had to try it and the new, politically-correct vegetarian Haggis (yes that's a thing) was even pushed on me but I just couldn't do it.
I contemplated ducking into one of the little pubs along the Royal Mile to take in some live music and have a beer or two but decided that being alone in a place that was getting rowdier by the minute might not be the greatest idea. I opted instead to grab a beer at my hotel bar. I took my place in the restaurant near a window where I could watch the big party unfold on the street outside and asked the friendly bartender for a plate of Cheesie Fries and a bottle of the best local beer he had available.
Much later that night as I was sleeping, a loud commotion outside stirred me awake; a fight on the street between some drunken blokes....welcome to Friday night in Edinburgh!
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
It was starting to get dark as I made my way back onto the Royal Mile and to the square near St. Giles Cathedral. The street was alive with tourists and locals alike gearing up for a Friday night in Edinburgh. The solemn sounds of distant bagpipes mixed with the laughter and chatter of half-cut revelers priming for a big night out on the town could be heard. A new bride exited St. Giles Cathedral with her new groom. Office-dwellers dressed in business suits walked hurriedly towards waiting cabs presumably as excited for it to be Friday night. With a few minutes to kill before meeting my guide from Auld Reekie Tours, I stopped in at Cafe Nero and ordered a Cafe Mocha to go. I arrived at the waiting spot and, for what seemed like a long time, I was the only person there. I was beginning to think I had the wrong directions when other people started to show up. Not long after, Ethel, who would take us on a nighttime tour of Greyfriar's Kirkyard and The Underground Vaults, arrived.
I was excited to visit Greyfriar's Kirkyard again but this time under the cover of darkness. As we walked toward the graveyard, Ethel explained that it's one of the most haunted locations in the world and past guests on the tour had been physically attacked by the angry spirit of Sir George Mackenzie, the man who imprisoned, maltreated and even murdered hundreds of Presbyterian Covenanters. As Ethel was explaining this, it became evident that some of the guests on the tour had already gotten a head start on the drinking. Their laughing, cussing and plain ol' disruptive behavior caused Ethel to show her more authoritative side. I personally thought she should have had them spend some alone time in Sir George MacKenzie's tomb to set them straight.
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While I admit the graveyard was quite creepy in the dark, I didn't get any spine-tingling feelings or sense anything off about the place, although I was hoping I would. Sometimes I get these strange feelings when I visit a location and have no explanation for it. The feeling of the hair on the back of my neck standing up or that someone is watching me. I get these feelings every time I visit Warren Lake in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The place just creeps the heck out of me. That night at Greyfriar's Courtyard, one of the most haunted locations in the world, I didn't get punched, slapped or kicked like others have reported and it was quite disappointing. I wondered if it was due to me being with such a large group. I pondered the idea of returning to the graveyard alone the following night.
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Our next stop was the underground vaults which are also a hotspot of paranormal activity. I was surprised to learn some of the history of these vaults and what they were used for over the years. I can't imagine up to thirty people living in one of those dark, damp, tiny spaces but, at one time, immigrants hoping to prosper in a new life in Edinburgh did just that and faced disappointment and even death. Disease was rampant and so was criminal activity. The plague was particularly unforgiving in those conditions and if it didn't kill you, it was likely you would fall victim to murder. If you weren't lucky enough to make a living above ground in Edinburgh, eventually you fell into a life of crime to survive. Illicit activities such as gambling, prostitution and robbery were just some of the professions many fell into while trying to survive in the underground vaults. The police only turned a blind eye to it all. As far as anyone above ground was concerned, the vaults were out-of-site and therefore out-of-mind as long as it stayed below ground. While I can admit that the vaults were also quite creepy, I can also say that I did not get any goosebumps or heebie jeebies.
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The walk back to the hotel was interesting to say the least. It was still fairly early but it was starting to get a bit rowdy. I took the long way around and started at the top of the street and made my way down and around a couple of blocks. I wanted to get a feel of what Edinburgh is like on a Friday night. I passed lots of drunken stag and hen parties and rowdy students already three sheets to the wind, some ready to be carried home even at that early on an hour. I made my way through the crowd of staggering revelers like an old pro. I had been in the city not even two full days and I was already navigating the crowded streets like a local, weaving in and out of crowds. As I walked, I noticed some comical signs had been put out outside some of the pubs to lure in the weekend crowd. Lots of signs advertising Haggis and beer. I told myself before I left home I would force myself to try Haggis while in Scotland but once I arrived, I couldn't get myself to do it. Many people tried to convince me that I had to try it and the new, politically-correct vegetarian Haggis (yes that's a thing) was even pushed on me but I just couldn't do it.
I contemplated ducking into one of the little pubs along the Royal Mile to take in some live music and have a beer or two but decided that being alone in a place that was getting rowdier by the minute might not be the greatest idea. I opted instead to grab a beer at my hotel bar. I took my place in the restaurant near a window where I could watch the big party unfold on the street outside and asked the friendly bartender for a plate of Cheesie Fries and a bottle of the best local beer he had available.
Much later that night as I was sleeping, a loud commotion outside stirred me awake; a fight on the street between some drunken blokes....welcome to Friday night in Edinburgh!
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