Ghost Hunting at the Skirrid Inn

 It was Anna's idea.  Anna is my friend.  We've known each other for 25 years. It's one of those friendships where we don't see each other for years and then pick up where we left off.  So when she said she'd like to go on a ghost hunt at the Skirrid, I was up for it.

We booked with a company called Haunted Happenings, who I've used before and found them to be very good.  

Then Anna got Covid with a week to go.

Luckily, it didn't cause serious illness, but even with the current strain being relatively mild,  we didn't think it was a good idea to turn up for the ghost hunt, so we re-booked, and on Friday 2 September, we set off on what turned into the journey from hell.

It's the A465.  The A465 (Heads of the Valleys road) has been undergoing road works for years.  No sooner is one stretch finished than they start on the next bit.    

It wasn't too bad until, somewhere near Fochriw, we encountered a "Road Closed" sign.  No diversion.  After a bit of fruitless driving in circles, with the sat-nav having virtual kittens because we weren't listening, we retraced our path and headed for Cardiff (the alternative - Brecon- was the way we'd come.)  After 10 minutes of driving, both of us screaming "No! Not doing it!" at the sat nav's constant demand to perform a U turn where possible, we somehow got back onto the right road and the sat nav stopped whining.  

We arrived at the Skirrid early (amazingly) so were able to have something to eat and chill out a bit before the main event.

The Skirrid is a lively pub and was open for business, therefore the ghost hunt was shorter than some I've been on (starting at 10.15 - a start of round 9.00 is more usual).  This meant there was no time for the history of the location, which I missed.  However, we were straight into the activities of the evening with a visit to the churchyard where Fanny Price, the former landlady of the Skirrid, is buried.  We visited her grave and watched the bats flying overhead.  Something tugged at my sleeve but it didn't seem unfriendly, so I ignored it. We spent some time in the church porch calling out for spirit activity, but the spirits weren't playing. However, it was a lovely clear night and I did some stargazing.

The rope suspended from the "hanging beam"

 

By the time we went back into the pub, closing time had come and gone.  We were given a chance to experiment with Ouija boards and table-tipping, as well as having some time to explore on our own.  I did feel a lot (and I mean a LOT) of spirit energy but I wasn't about to open up to it.  Some people in the group saw shadow figures, but I wasn't looking in the right direction, alas. The EVP session that we (that's Anna, a gentleman by the name of Craig) and I didn't seem to pick up much - however, one of the bedrooms (bedroom 2) had a really unpleasant atmosphere and we had to go out.  That's never happened to me on a ghost hunt before and it's very hard to explain; I just felt as if I wasn't wanted there.  After a couple of minutes on the landing giving myself a strict talking to, we went back in - and the feeling had gone.

At the end of the event, we all gathered in the bar with just about every kind of ghost-hunting equipment known to man.  Anna volunteered to go and sit in the Snug bar on her own so she missed the chair next to me rocking gently.  So did I, because the spirit box had come up with the word "father" followed by me father's name and I was talking to the group leaders about it!

Sustained by emergency chocolate, we headed for home, with fingers crossed that we didn't meet the same problems on the return journey.  Spoiler - we did.  In the end, I spotted a signpost to Cardiff and did an action replay of the outbound journey, ignoring the sat nav, which was not happy with me.  Eventually I came to the turnoff for Pontypridd and from then on I knew my way.  Anna got a conducted tour of the district ("That's where I used to live;  that's my old school;  there's the university") but by then she was having trouble staying awake so I'm not sure how much of it she heard.

We arrived back at 5 a.m. and after I'd dropped Anna off at home I had a quick breakfast and fed the cat before dropping into my bed.  

Was it worth it?  The ghost hunt lived up to expectations, with enough activity on the table-tipping, ouija boards and various EMF meters to keep us interested.  I would have liked more about the history of the inn, but as the time was more limited than usual it was the right thing to leave it out.  After all, we'd paid for a ghost hunt, not a history tour.  Getting there and back was a nightmare and I definitely wouldn't go back until the A465 roadworks are complete (in 2025).  However, ghost hunting is addictive - so the question is - where next?