Joseph Cobb's Ghost Tour

On Halloween I braved the spirits that walk abroad that night by taking part in Joseph Cobb's Ghost Tour in Caldicot Castle. The strapline promised a "light hearted walking tour, taking in the ghosts, sightings and spiritual encounters with the unearthly inhabitants of this ancient site".

Translated this seems to mean paying £25 so the local am dram society can dress up as witches.

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The tour
Joseph Cobb himself was pretty good. An old Victorian gent who specialised in manic laughter through his authentic, turn of the century Voiceblaster 2000 Megaphone (Rechargeable). He was our guide for the night, there to tell us stories about the ghostly goings on at the castle.

Like the evil monk who walked the top of the tall tower.
The cry went out from Joseph Cobb - "Dom Benedict, are you there?".
Cue spotlight trained on the top of the tall tower.
No monk.
Cobb called out again. "Dom Benedict - are you there?"
Still nothing...no, wait! In true evil monk style...there's an arm just reaching over the top of the parapet giving a cheery wave.

By all accounts a right evil one though - walling up a young virgin to leave her to starve to death. Go back four hundred years and every young virgin is pert, clad in a chiffonourous dress with limited access to brassieres. Things were looking up. I nearly tripped over the moat warning sign in my haste to run across and climb the tower and free the virgin.

Turns out the monk was really a bit of a softy. Sure he'd walled her up, but he'd left her a whole load of food so she didn't starve to death for maybe thirty, forty years. He was also a sensible chap - walling her in with an array of sensible dresses and plenty of substantial undergarments.

Aside from this pair the ghosts of the castle displayed a distinct lack of imagination, most of them choosing to come dressed as witches, hanging around trying to lure people to their doom in dark passageways, or flicking the lights off from time to time.

The only non-witches I found were a plague victim and his evil scientist master. They were guarding a dark and dingy passageway leading to who knew what terrors. With cries of "go back!" and "there's nothing to see here" they tried to keep us away. Emboldened by seven rooms of rather tame witches we herded the demons from the underside before us as we charged into the maw.

Only to find out that yep, there was nothing to see. Just a short passageway replete with locked doors and rather sheepish ghouls.

The highlight of the tour were beating my mate on a giant game of Connect 4, and finding the results of a game of pin the tail on the presumably rather proud, and from the looks of it, extremely frustrated donkey.

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The two course meal
We feasted in the main hall - the most haunted room in the entire castle! Any lingering chance of a real ghost was roundly defeated when two of the witches broke into a rousing rendition of some opera for cats. Two middle aged women shouting "miaow" at each other is enough to make any ghost retire to their grave with a seriously haunted look about them.

Not that I'd have noticed had a dozen ghosts started wafting about above my head - I was too busy concentrating on the food. It was great - lovely chicken in a nice sauce with perfectly cooked greens. A delicious confection of chocolate brownie, chocolate fondant and mix of chocolate and raspberries for dessert. The lady next to me looking rather glum. An allergy to chocolate by all accounts. One of the side effects appeared to be the inability to pick up on broad hints about me needing chocolate to live.

The witches and ghouls were all from a local singing club, performing for the love of it, and a free drink. Their group motto is "It doesn't matter if you can't sing, come along anyway". Can't think what they meant by that.

The high point of the night was group singing of all your Victorian Favourites: Bohemian Rhapsody, theme to Dad's Army, West Side Story. Some of us joined in, especially those whose drink orders were accidentally doubled by the bar staff.

In the end it didn't matter that not everyone could sing, nor that I was scared more by the price of a glass of coke than the witches. It was the sheer enthusiasm on show was what made the evening so fun.