Clifford's Tower is one of York's most famous landmarks. The distinctive castle has a gruesome history to match; a Jewish massacre in 1190 secured the site status as the city's bloodiest location. So when I had chance to take part in an overnight ghost hunt, I jumped at it. On the night in question, the rain and wind duly arrived as the Yorkshire Psychic Investigators and I set up camp in Clifford's Tower. | "I was ready, I was waiting - bring it on ghosts! Come on Caspar!" | |
We split into two groups, each with a psychic whose ability to communicate with spirits would shape the evening ahead. After some bizarre health and safety guidelines, we started to explore the castle. As night fell the castle developed a delicious eeriness. I'm not a sceptic, but have never experienced any paranormal activity - I was ready and willing to see my first ghost. With digital cameras flashing, thermometers at the ready, camcorders running and even walkie talkies on stand-by, we were all set. The Investigators were taking notes for their final report and even had a 'spookometer' or Electro-Magnetic Frequency reader, on the go. The others started to 'feel' things. A red setter was spotted by the entrance, a spaniel half way up the fortress walls. One investigator described a painful sensation as she re-lived a woman's death. A psychic sensed a young boy's spirit, who had gone up a chimney, been forgotten and perished... I was ready, I was waiting - bring it on ghosts! Come on Caspar! We entered the castle's chapel, laid a trigger object and set up camcorders. It was time to hold a seance. In a seated circle, we joined hands (with particular attention to the way each palm faced). Spirits were invited to enter the circle, and after a long uneasy silence, one investigator said he felt the presence of a man standing behind him. By this point I was beginning to feel a bit left out. Other people had experienced all sorts including assault, being held down, extreme sadness, death, terror and even some dog spotting. But the only tingle I'd felt was my leg going dead after being sat cross-legged for so long. Was I missing something? More feeling, more emotion, more angst as the investigators and psychics communicated with various spirits, but still zilch for me. The doubts started to creep in. Were they all being serious? Ridiculous, random thoughts started to creep into my head, the inexplicable desire to say Boris Yeltsin and talk about dog walking. Surely this wouldn't go down well during this particular angst-ridden spirit's interrogation? With a heavily bitten lip, I was determined not to ruin the atmosphere. By 0530am, a ghost had been rescued, and its captor ghost placated - all in a night's ghost hunting I suppose. Yet I'd felt absolutely nothing except incredulity at the increasingly bizarre actions of those around me. Had I been trying too hard? Maybe I just don't have that sixth sense? Perhaps I was expecting too much? Despite passionately wanting to believe, maybe I am intrinsically a sceptic? I'm desperate to believe all of the reasons listed above because I'd hate to think that the tears, strange postures, emotional distress and visions were all a play act put on by a group of grown-ups who really ought to know better. | 
