In the spring of 2000, there was a mad cow outbreak AND Hoof and Mouth disease cropping up in places all over England and Scotland. They occurred right as my husband and I were planning to spend 17 wonderful days in jolly old England. It was too late to get our money back so we winged our way across the pond and landed at Heath-row Airport after declaring to each other that we would not eat beef during our stay.

Because of these 2 diseases, tourism was at an all time low which ended up working in our favor. Everywhere we went there was never a line (or, what Briton’s call a “queue”). It was great. We got to tour the Globe theatre and see shows in Coventry Gardens without the crush of humanity nudging us along well beaten paths.

Which brings me to … duh, duh, duh!!! The TOWER OF LONDON!!! Now, if you’ve never been to the Tower of London let me explain that it’s not really a tower (like Rapunzel’s). It’s more of a series of buildings that were added on to over many centuries, so it’s a very eclectic collection of buildings.

As my husband and I waited for the Tower to open (you have to pay to get in) there was no one else standing by the entrance. Well, except for a Beef-Eater, which is an English guard. Not a Bobbie, though. Bobbies are English policemen. Beef-Eaters are the Queen’s guardsmen. BIG difference. So, since we had a few minutes to wait before they opened the gate I asked the Beef-Eater if the Tower was really haunted. Because countless TV shows and some movies tell you it’s haunted, but you never know. It could be all hype. Well, the Beef-Eater looked a bit uncomfortable by my question. Now, I like to think I can read people pretty well. Usually when someone looks away from you or down at the ground or clears his throat it’s a pretty good indication that he’s a bit uneasy. I seriously doubt that he was coached to respond that way.

I waited for him to answer me, because the British have very good manners and would rather die than be impolite, where as Americans aren’t held back as much by proper etiquette. He looked me in the eye and said that yes, he had seen somethings that would qualify has haunts. He said the best time of day/night was early morning before the crowds got there and around dusk when things quieted down again. He said that most of the Beef-Eaters had had experiences that were clearly of the supernatural kind.

Great! That peaked my interest. Now I was ready to sense for myself if there really was something in the Tower. We walked through the gates (we didn’t have a guided tour, although they might have them now) and we went past Traitor’s Gate which is where people where unloaded onto dry land after being rowed across the Thames into the Tower. We headed into the oldest buildings on the grounds. Inside the building was a room that seemed about 40ft by 40ft with 2 small circular rooms added onto 2 opposite corners. Lots of glass panes in each of these round rooms. The round rooms were perhaps 6ft wide, at most, and looked out over the water.

Walking around the main floor I began to get an uneasy feeling. We, two, were the only people in the place. I was busy taking photos of the rooms but felt drawn to the small round room on my right. I kept getting a tightness in my stomach, nervousness and anxiety were starting to build in me. I entered the round room and immediately felt a woman’s presence and kept getting the same thoughts over and over again. She was waiting for someone to come by boat. Her thoughts were very focused. She had no hope of being rescued or released from this building but she was waiting to see someone. She kept pacing back and forth like a caged animal. She felt desperate and so afraid that she wouldn’t see someone in time who was supposed to come.

I had to exit that room quickly. Her emotions were overwhelming. I took a picture of the round room and it looked quite strange. I guess you could say it looked odd. All of the myriad other buildings at the Tower were interesting but I got nothing paranormal from them. Which was a bit disappointing. I was almost hoping to see Anne Boleyn running around the grounds without her head! Nope. Nothing. Nada.

When we headed up to Scotland, by train, we made a point of staying at some B&B’s (bed and breakfast homes). Some were okay and others were utterly ridiculous. We stayed at one home that put us up in their attic which had a tub that was 4 foot long and 12 inches wide! But… I digress.

We stayed at a B&B in Edinburgh which was a lovely old home. Our bedroom must have been a ballroom at some point because it was enormous and incredibly ornate. There was a large queen sized bed in the room along with a full sized bed and lots of furniture, including desks, tables, lamps, foot stools, large cabinets, etc. My husband and I retired for the night. He took the full and I took the queen.

I was sound asleep when I was awakened around 3am by the sensation of being pinned to the bed and something was sitting on my chest. I was unable to catch my breath and was afraid to breathe at the same time because I got the impression it wanted to enter me as I inhaled. I held my breath for as long as I could. I was pretty well frozen in place with my eyes wide open. I couldn’t see anything hovering over me but I could sure feel a male presence on top of me! (And it wasn’t my husband!) I did my best to fight it off of me and gradually (although it seemed like very long minutes) I could turn my head and took a breath. That seemed to break it’s control and it left. Needless to say, I was scared to death. I woke my husband and made him move over so I could lay next to him for the rest of the night.

The next morning I was pretty angry. I’ve stayed in places that were haunted and I take appropriate actions so I won’t be bothered during the night when I am at my most defenseless. So I was mad at myself for not setting up my guard before I went to bed the night before. And I was really ticked off at the homeowner who apparently knew the house was haunted and chose not to say anything about it.

My husband and I had lots of other adventures that were really cool but that’s pretty much all my paranormal stories that took place in the U.K. Maybe I’ll tell you about the stone cairns and the green standing stones and my trip up the whisky highway next time.

So long until next time!