A
s I stepped out of the car, I
breathed in the crisp fresh
mountain air accented with
the subtle tones of flowering
heather. I looked around taking
in the majestic mountains and the
stunning Scottish moor landscape.
I could hear and see an emerald
sparkling river trail past the back of
the hotel. The Inchbae Lodge hotel was
to be my base for a spiritual retreat
that I was holding for the public.
Nestled in the isolated landscape near
Inverness, this cosy cottage hotel
held no foreboding as I approached
it despite hearing the stories of the
hauntings.
It wasn’t until I passed the threshold
that the hairs on the back of my neck
prickled. I immediately looked into my
mind and found the hotspot instantly. It
was on the first floor. As I looked deeper
through my third eye, I could see a
four-poster bed and a man, he liked it in
there, I could feel it.
On speaking to the owners, I was happy
to discover that I was right, many
A CHUNK OF
BURNING LOVE
Nicky Alan’s
residents had reported being awoken in
the early hours by an apparition, a man
who was bare chested, his legs invisible
in the four-poster bedroom. I felt a thrill
of excitement. I couldn’t wait to meet and
chat with this entity. My students arrived
in high spirits. I told them nothing of the
haunting, I wanted them to experience it
for themselves. There is nothing worse
than telling them what to expect as that’s
when imagination can start dwindling its
way into your logical mind.The following morning,
as we were sitting
in the conservatory
taking in the stunning
landscape one of my
students approached
me and reported being
woken at 3 am with
a bare-chested man
looming over her face.
I couldn’t contain
my excitement as I
explained he was the
resident spirit here. He
was not a nasty spiritbut certainly disconcerted any witnesses
with his presence. He did not look happy
the lady reported. Ten minutes later, a
couple who were staying in the four-
poster bedroom also reported the same
phenomena, a bare-chested man staring
at them in their beds. People were also
reporting doors being slammed in their
faces.During the day we visited various beautiful
locations for meditations, era blending
and dowsing. I loved every minute of my
retreats; however, I was dying to hold
a séance that night to try and locate
this curious spirit and find out why he
roamed the rooms bare chested to the
unsuspecting public.That night there were about ten of us
sitting around a solid twelve-foot table,
the rest of our group sat around the table
behind us. This table could not be moved
unless serious effort was made by several
people to budge it. I lit a candle, started
the recording device and asked everybody
to link hands. Following a short blessing
we were good to go. It was not long before