Jim Duffy ✍ I used to work as a tourist guide.
The first two times my colleague and I panicked, thinking that we had accidentally locked someone in the previous night, and rushed down there to find there was nobody there - and there is only one way in and out.
It always happened on Tuesday mornings around 10am. I took down details of the tourists in case it was some hoax being perpetrated, with a hotel telling tourists to claim they saw a ghost. The tourists were unrelated, staying in different locations, and often were in the country at different times. They all described him identically.
My work colleague and I never saw him but we noticed that on Tuesday morning the place would be unearthly cold. It was in the middle of a heat wave but we would have to put on our jackets and gloves. Then the cold would suddenly disappear.
The place was cold anyway. We had to wear winter clothes working there, then change to summer clothes to go outside to get something to eat. But this man, about five foot three, with a tonsure and a cut on it, was continually seen by tourists, always in the one spot where a blocked up door was. He'd be looking at the posters explaining the history of the building.
I was fascinated that tourists from the US, Canada, the UK, all across Europe and Asia all saw the man. It was always the first tourist on Tuesday morning who saw him. They all described the same man, and all thought he was a visitor. As I said there was only one entrance. We were sitting there. We knew for a fact the tourist who saw him was the first person in.
We presumed he was a monk who lived and died there and probably was buried there. The two of us there weren't unnerved by him. We never saw him ourselves and presumed he was just someone who lived there and kept coming back to visit a place. The spot he was seen standing in was a blocked up corridors. Monks had been buried a few feet away. The old abbey was demolished centuries ago but the chapter house survived in the middle of industrial buildings and was used as a grain silo. A hole had been cut in the roof to pour in the grain. The hole has since been concreted over.
The chapter house features in Irish history. It was the place where the Lord Deputy and privy council met, and into which Silken Thomas stormed to challenge the Lord Deputy when he wrongly thought his father, Gearóig Óg FitzGerald had been executed by Henry VIII. My work colleague and I used to say "can we not have the ghost of Silken Thomas or a Lord Deputy, rather than just an unknown small monk with a badly cut tonsure?"
We had a ghost - a monk with a badly cut tonsure. My colleague and I never saw him, but we repeatedly had the first tourist arriving in (and there is only one way in, past us) coming back and asking "who is the old monk with the cut on his head at the end of the slype?"
The first two times my colleague and I panicked, thinking that we had accidentally locked someone in the previous night, and rushed down there to find there was nobody there - and there is only one way in and out.
It always happened on Tuesday mornings around 10am. I took down details of the tourists in case it was some hoax being perpetrated, with a hotel telling tourists to claim they saw a ghost. The tourists were unrelated, staying in different locations, and often were in the country at different times. They all described him identically.
My work colleague and I never saw him but we noticed that on Tuesday morning the place would be unearthly cold. It was in the middle of a heat wave but we would have to put on our jackets and gloves. Then the cold would suddenly disappear.
The place was cold anyway. We had to wear winter clothes working there, then change to summer clothes to go outside to get something to eat. But this man, about five foot three, with a tonsure and a cut on it, was continually seen by tourists, always in the one spot where a blocked up door was. He'd be looking at the posters explaining the history of the building.
I was fascinated that tourists from the US, Canada, the UK, all across Europe and Asia all saw the man. It was always the first tourist on Tuesday morning who saw him. They all described the same man, and all thought he was a visitor. As I said there was only one entrance. We were sitting there. We knew for a fact the tourist who saw him was the first person in.
We presumed he was a monk who lived and died there and probably was buried there. The two of us there weren't unnerved by him. We never saw him ourselves and presumed he was just someone who lived there and kept coming back to visit a place. The spot he was seen standing in was a blocked up corridors. Monks had been buried a few feet away. The old abbey was demolished centuries ago but the chapter house survived in the middle of industrial buildings and was used as a grain silo. A hole had been cut in the roof to pour in the grain. The hole has since been concreted over.
The chapter house features in Irish history. It was the place where the Lord Deputy and privy council met, and into which Silken Thomas stormed to challenge the Lord Deputy when he wrongly thought his father, Gearóig Óg FitzGerald had been executed by Henry VIII. My work colleague and I used to say "can we not have the ghost of Silken Thomas or a Lord Deputy, rather than just an unknown small monk with a badly cut tonsure?"
























