I went on a ghost hunt last night. A real one, with dowsing sticks and pendulums and infra red camera and little devices that detect electromagnetic fields. It was at Point Cook Homestead, and it was hosted by Australian Paranormal Investigations.
As many of you may know (but probably not), I have a thing for anything supernatural, paranormal, the occult, spiritual or anything otherworldy. I have since I was a small child. I remember being 8 or so, reading books about UFOs, the most haunted houses in Britain, poltergeists, the Bermuda Triangle, the Yeti, the Loch Ness Monster. Anything strange that happened, I was reading about it with utmost fascination. (But not things like vampires and werewolves, because, you know, that’s just silly).
I even had a favorite ghost and a favorite haunting place. Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry the VIII, beheaded for treason in the Tower of London. Her ghost has been seen wandering the landmark, sometimes with her head resting neatly on her shoulders, sometimes with her head resting neatly under her arm.
It was partially mainly only for this reason that I packed my bags and dragged two friends across the world to the UK, where I’d applied for a 2 year working visa. My whole life I’ve wanted to see a ghost so much- I mean really see, with my eyes, unexplainable by any other means- that I spent two years in the UK, with my predominant objective to “see a ghost”. My first stop? The Tower of London to visit my favourite ghost Anne.
Sadly, I did not see Anne that day, and although I did see where she was buried (exciting in itself) and where she was executed (thrilling, to say the least) I held on to the hope that one day I would see a ghost. I mean this was the UK, for goodness sakes. This was the birth place of ghosts (not really, but to me it seemed it) and old, haunted mansions and castles. I trekked my way around England, Ireland and Scotland, to castles and manors and lochs (yes, in case you are wondering, I did go to the Loch Ness, and I did witness a strange surge of water on a very still day, with no boats or anything out on the lake. As though something huge had moved beneath the surface), hoping to get a glimpse of…something.
Also just as sad, I did not witness one single ghost the whole time I was over there, despite deliberately and successfully gaining employment in several supposedly haunted hotels (Leeming House in Lake District, Red Lion Inn in Hawkeshead), and despite ensuring some time alone at night to go ghost hunting.
So last night was another attempt for me to find that elusive something that proves that they are real, that they exist. The search for something I could see with my very own eyes.
Last night was fun. It was cold. It was long. But it was definitely fun. I was there, thanks to Emma Sutcliffe (thanks Emma) so I could write a story on the ghosts of the western suburbs of Melbourne. And I had my camera at the ready for anything freaky that may occur.
People had experiences, heard noises, felt things, but my stupid, logical, rational brain kept explaining them away. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a skeptic. I mean, I’m not a skeptic in *here* (points to heart) but I think I’m a skeptic up *here* (points to head). Despite hearing many stories over the years, I’ve never, ever, ever had a remotely haunting or ghostly experience (except for that strange, random surge of water at Loch Ness).
Unfortunately, last night was no different. But that’s not to say that the homestead at night isn’t a scary place, because I sure wouldn’t want to be holed up there on my own at night! Nevertheless, I will continue to believe and hope that one day I’ll have my experience. Hopefully I will be around others when it happens, because I’m not sure I’d be up to an experience alone.
But I’m glad I saw nothing last night, because having to return to an empty house (family gone away for the weekend) at 3am after a haunting experience would have been far too frightening. In fact, I think I would have been knocking on mum and dad’s door.
Have you ever had a ghostly experience?