Ogmore Castle, where the White Lady may still roam
Driving along, I came upon this very subtle warning delicately painted on the back of a bus:
How come we don't get cool stuff like on
the back of OUR buses???
Anyway, I got totally lost in the hills of Southern Wales, and eventually found my way to the bridge back to England. I decided to head towards the Old Castle in Sherborne, which I visited when I was around 20 - a long time ago. I got stuck in a massive traffic jam in Bristol, and the sun was starting to go down. I drove south from there, vaguely towards Sherborne, thinking I would probably sleep in the car. But it was getting later, and I was getting pretty tired, and I had no idea how far I could go or where I would park to sleep.
Suddenly, I saw a "B&B" (bed & breakfast) sign and pulled into this beautiful little estate. A gentleman came out and asked if I needed a room, and his wife showed me what was available. I decided to stay there (for a very reasonable £25), and found out that it was called "The Parsonage". Built in the 1600's, it's a "listed" building. That means it can't be changed, and must be kept up in good shape.
The Parsonage, in Farrington Gurney
As it happened, my hosts were going to a nearby club to hear a great band (The Country Blues Band), so after getting directions I went, too. Had a great time, drank some excellent beer, went back to The Parsonage and went to sleep. DId I hear anything in the night? Yes, but that could have been anything. Plus, I was somewhat drunk, since I drank a couple of pints of beer when I got back.
The next morning, my host Margot, told me about the Monk. They've been there twelve years, and are currently selling as they would like to retire from the inn-keeping life. BTW - the asking price is £775,000. If I had the money, I'd buy it right now.
Anyway, in that time they've seen the Monk twice - once at the back door, and then again around the property. There have also been unexplained events - things moving, breezes from nowhere, sounds... you get the idea. But the most interesting story was one they weren't around to witness. It seems they had a guest there for a long term stay; about 18 months. He told them the whole thing was rubbish, and there were no such things as ghosts. But one morning, he came down to breakfast very shaken, saying he hadn't slept a wink all night.
Margot and her husband had gone out for the evening, leaving their guest alone. Sometime after 11 pm, he heard a loud knocking at the front door. The door knocker is an old metal one, and the reflected sound rings throughout the entire house. Looking out his window, he saw the figure of a heavily hooded monk standing by the front door. The figure was very solid looking, so the guest thought it was some kind of nut! Then he heard the knocker thudding against the door again - once, twice, three times. But the figure hadn't moved its arms! It glanced from side to side, as if afraid and looking around to be sure it wasn't being snuck up on. Then, right in front of the eyes of the now terrified guest. the figure melted away.
The front door where the Monk knocked for entry
closeup of the door & knocker
Anyway, I got totally lost in the hills of Southern Wales, and eventually found my way to the bridge back to England. I decided to head towards the Old Castle in Sherborne, which I visited when I was around 20 - a long time ago. I got stuck in a massive traffic jam in Bristol, and the sun was starting to go down. I drove south from there, vaguely towards Sherborne, thinking I would probably sleep in the car. But it was getting later, and I was getting pretty tired, and I had no idea how far I could go or where I would park to sleep.
Suddenly, I saw a "B&B" (bed & breakfast) sign and pulled into this beautiful little estate. A gentleman came out and asked if I needed a room, and his wife showed me what was available. I decided to stay there (for a very reasonable £25), and found out that it was called "The Parsonage". Built in the 1600's, it's a "listed" building. That means it can't be changed, and must be kept up in good shape.
The Parsonage, in Farrington Gurney
As it happened, my hosts were going to a nearby club to hear a great band (The Country Blues Band), so after getting directions I went, too. Had a great time, drank some excellent beer, went back to The Parsonage and went to sleep. DId I hear anything in the night? Yes, but that could have been anything. Plus, I was somewhat drunk, since I drank a couple of pints of beer when I got back.
The next morning, my host Margot, told me about the Monk. They've been there twelve years, and are currently selling as they would like to retire from the inn-keeping life. BTW - the asking price is £775,000. If I had the money, I'd buy it right now.
Anyway, in that time they've seen the Monk twice - once at the back door, and then again around the property. There have also been unexplained events - things moving, breezes from nowhere, sounds... you get the idea. But the most interesting story was one they weren't around to witness. It seems they had a guest there for a long term stay; about 18 months. He told them the whole thing was rubbish, and there were no such things as ghosts. But one morning, he came down to breakfast very shaken, saying he hadn't slept a wink all night.
Margot and her husband had gone out for the evening, leaving their guest alone. Sometime after 11 pm, he heard a loud knocking at the front door. The door knocker is an old metal one, and the reflected sound rings throughout the entire house. Looking out his window, he saw the figure of a heavily hooded monk standing by the front door. The figure was very solid looking, so the guest thought it was some kind of nut! Then he heard the knocker thudding against the door again - once, twice, three times. But the figure hadn't moved its arms! It glanced from side to side, as if afraid and looking around to be sure it wasn't being snuck up on. Then, right in front of the eyes of the now terrified guest. the figure melted away.
The front door where the Monk knocked for entry
closeup of the door & knocker
