The most haunted hotel in the country?

Travel News

Ettington Park Hotel, near Alderminster, craftily blends old and new: period detail,luxurious rooms, a small but well-equipped spa and fine dining.And also tales of hauntings a-plenty.Why not brave a night in the hotel once labelled ‘most-haunted in Britain’ by the AA?

Attentive staff checked us in and a talkative porter carried our bags to Room One. Detailed friezes, the shields, the dour portraits,  the ornate stairwell all gave us plenty to gaze at, until finally, we reached the splendour of a traditionally furnished bedroom. Huge, arched windows gave us a view of the church. All the technological extras you’d expect for ‘deluxe’ were present; the wide twin beds were comfortably firm and the spacious marble bathroom was coolly contemporary. Sharing was the only option in this venue, considering cost and scare-factor.

We explored the hotel, even venturing up to the Long Gallery, the vast, round window of which I’d spied from our room. Later, a waiter explained that ghostly children run and laugh the length of the gallery whilst a mother sobs, mourning their deaths in the River Stour which courses the grounds.

The spa facilities kept us occupied before dinner, after which we adjourned to the fifty-foot long Great Drawing Room, admired the 19th century Italian ceiling, and discussed why paranormal ladies preferred grey apparel.

Sleep should have been easy: we were travel-weary. We drew the curtains on the flood-lit church. The darkness, heavy and oppressive, was almost immediately pierced by the sounds of laughing, chattering children. I froze.Then relaxed when a firm voice told the youngsters to be quiet.

And there was more: selfish footsteps pounded every half-hour across the room above. From left to right. No return journey. This ensured that sleep was fitful. I half-dozed, only to be shocked awake by ‘Da, da, da dah’! Beethoven’s Fifth echoed around our room. I stretched over and tapped Will. “Ah you awake?”

“Of course I am!”

Grumpily-tired by morning, we voiced rational explanations for the night-time cacophony, agreeing that orchestras stretched supernatural credibility. But the footsteps? And this was the priciest night of our holiday: was it worth it for a sleepless night?

Yes, for it left us more than a little haunted by thoughts of: ‘What if…’