I ain't scared of no ghosts!

When I was a little kid, my mother would attempt to quell my nighttime frights with the standard line issued by moms everywhere, “There are no such things as ghosts! Go to sleep!” She did not succeed in convincing me. Not that I have ever encountered any spirits, ghouls or apparitions. It’s just that I’m very susceptible to suggestion. And so I have spent my entire life hoping to avoid ever meeting anything spooky. I avoid scary movies. I don’t go on Ghost Tours on vacations. And I usually don’t book hotels that look haunted in advertising materials.

It was very uncharacteristic, therefore, when we were planning our trip to Scotland, that I should book accommodation in an isolated country inn built in 1700. But the images on the web site were so stunning and the video was so compelling, I told myself that it couldn’t possibly be haunted. I simply had to go there.

The eleven-room Airds Hotel is located at the very western edge of the Scottish highlands in a wee hamlet called Port Appin, where we counted no more than 40 houses, if that. There is one wee grocery store that also serves as a post office and there is a town hall. The village is encircled by sheep farms and grassy fields, set on the shores of a tidal lake, Loch Linnhe, with the Morvern Mountains as a backdrop. A small island, only 10 minutes from the pier in Port Appin by ferry, is dotted with Viking ruins. As we made our way along the single lane country road toward the hotel, up loomed the loneliest, eeriest castle perched on a rocky outcrop. The hairs on the backs of our necks stood on end at the sight of it. “Holy sh*t,” we both said at once.  Ha, Ha! We laughed and carried on our way.

As we reached the hotel, it had none of the castle’s spookiness. It looked so friendly. The sweetest white country house of stone construction. It really did have a past life as an Inn back in the 1700s. We found it difficult enough to get there by car; I can’t imagine how and why travelers in bygone centuries found themselves in this secluded, lonely, out-of-the-way place. But there you have it. I wondered if it had looked this hospitable and welcoming to weary travelers in days gone by.

Our accommodations were luxurious. The cuisine sublime. The staff so attentive and helpful. None of them looked like they were from Transylvania. I began to relax.

On the sunniest of days, soon after our mid-afternoon arrival, we found ourselves having scones, jam and clotted cream with our afternoon tea in the garden overlooking the Loch. We thought we were just this side of heaven. The staff brought us Scotch with wee appetizers outdoors before we went inside for a superb dinner. We ended the evening by walking to the pier at dusk listening to birds chirp, bees buzz and lambs baa-ah. We went to bed with our window open to welcome the cool, crisp sea air and we fell asleep listening to the gulls chime the setting of the midnight sun.

I woke up at 5:00 am. Light cracked through a gap between the drapes. I heard wee birds waking up. I slid out of bed and went into the bathroom. I decided I wouldn’t turn on the light so as not to disturb Ken who was still asleep.  My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and that little crack of daylight was beginning to seep around the door frame.

Except…..wait a sec. What was that? The light was interrupted by a dark shape. The hairs on my neck tingled. I hurried the task I was there for. I flushed. I washed my hands without singing “Happy Birthday” twice. I wanted to get the heck out of there. My heart had begun to race.

I reached for the door knob. My hand brushed something soft and heavy. I gasped. My voice caught in my throat. If I had been able to let out that scream, I would have woken everyone in the hotel. I jumped into bed and pulled the quilt up over my head. I gripped the sheets in both hands. And I tried to find my breath.

Now, I had not made a mental note earlier in the evening that two fluffy terry-cloth robes hung on the back of the bathroom door. A sleeve was the innocent perpetrator of my ghostly visitation. Ha, ha! Nothing at all!

I like scary movies that end with reasonable explanations for perceived hauntings. Don’t you?

I left a light on the next night.