PARANORMAL JOURNEYS IN SCOTLAND-1

Hello friends, I got started on the paranormal the other day blogging on the subject of reincarnation, which set me to thinking about how many paranormal experiences I've encountered in my lifetime.  Some on my journey through Scotland.  So I thought I'd share one encounter here.  I didn't go to Great Britain seeking out ghosts and such, I went to visit my daughters who were living there for the summer, and the three of us took in the sights of Scotland, England and Ireland for several weeks.  The ghosts and such just sort of found us. 

THE VAULTS BELOW EDINBURGH

The walking ghost tour of the vaults below Edinburgh streets is creepy, indeed. Dank, oppressive and intimidating, 'Mr. Boots' is the phantom of choice down there for a malevolent encounter, if you're going to have one.  According to the tour guides he is very territorial, evil, and has a particular problem with women, especially in one of the larger vault rooms.  These rooms are solid stone and arched, some with water (or something I don't want to know about) seeping from the walls and dripping from the ceiling.

When the tour-guide brought our good-sized group into this vault room he separated the gents from the ladies; one group on one side of the vault, the other opposite.  He spoke of attacks within the room which started mini-stampedes in the past when someone screamed from a slap or a jab.  I thought myself lucky because I'd wedged my way back into the very corner of the room, with one daughter to my immediate left, touching shoulders, the other glued to my right.  There wasn't an inch behind me to the corner of the wall and I felt safe there.  No spooks creeping up on me from behind . . . except as we all stood eerily still and listened to the tour guide continue his informative speech, I received a HARD yank on the back of my hair.  It hurt like hell and I jumped.  I sucked in a gasp as both daughters turned and gaped at me, confused and suddenly looking frightened.  Not about to start any stampede, I struggled to adjust my bulging eyes down to normal size and shrugged my shoulders.  When they refocused their attention on the speaker, I twisted my head around nonchalantly and looked for any loose stone and the possibility of a prank.  Nothing out of place.  Nothing sticking out to snag me with a painful yank, which couldn't have happened anyway because I wasn't moving.

I made it through the rest of the tour without incident, but I was looking over my shoulder the whole way with every hair follicle on my body standing at attention.  Only when we were above ground did I recount my experience to my daughters, who gasped something to the effect of; "I knew it!  I was sure something was going on down there!"  

On that same tour they took us to the Greyfriar's Cemetery/Covenantor's Prison.  I won't spoil it by narking on what they did to us there, let me just say don't go there if you have a weak heart.  The MacKenzie poltergeist was supposedly attacking so many there that they closed the Covenantor's Prison to tours for a few years, or so I heard. Soon after our tour, actually.  Researching the place on the internet recently it looks as though they've opened the tours again, so if you decide to go, good luck . . . and don't say I didn't warn 'ye!  Later, friends.