Scotland: Spirits, Storms & Spiders (Part 1 of 3)

They say Edinburgh is one of the most haunted cities in the world. I didn't expect front-row seats.

Feb 18, 2025

A moment of sunshine over the Scottish land

The train pulled into Waverley Station as I caught my first glimpse of the enchanting Edinburgh Castle on the hill, its silhouette framed by centuries-old stone walls draped in bright green moss. Beside me, a local lady I had been sitting with throughout the three-hour trip from Birmingham smiled.

"Tell him Sara sent you," she said in a strong accent, referring to someone she knew at a local meat pie shop. Then, with a knowing smirk, she added, "Have a wonderful time on your adventure, and good luck with the big storm!"

…Wait. What storm?

Before I could ask, we walked in opposite directions, busy with people everywhere- her off to wherever she was going, me standing there wondering if I should be concerned.

With my heavy backpack slung over both shoulders and my suitcase rolling behind me, I walked through the bustling train station. I followed the flow of people- through the terminal, up the lift, then an outdoor hall that led to a set of stone stairs climbing toward the main street.

At the top, I paused.

I always knew I would come to Scotland. I just didn’t know when.

Moments like these are strange.

You spend years imagining yourself somewhere, picturing it down to the tiniest details, but when you finally arrive, it’s like your brain can’t quite process that it’s real.

Did I actually make it here? Is this really happening?

The air was crisp and damp-no rain. I walked toward a lookout point, attempting to take it all in. Below me, I could see a birds-eye view of the train station, and beyond it, the Royal Mile stretched through part of the city, lined with gothic spires, timeworn buildings as far as the eye can see and stories etched in every stone. The overcast sky rolled across the hills like an ancient force, pressing into my senses all at once.

It felt like stepping onto the set of a magical fairytale, except this was real.

Luxury lodging…with a side of haunting.

After soaking it all in, I made my way to the apartment i’d be staying in for the next three nights - one night alone, and two with my brother Jon. He was finishing his work in Glasgow and I decided to have the first day to explore on my own.

I walked into the lobby which looked more like a dining room in an old aristocratic home than a front desk. Dark wood, fireplace, velvet red chairs and old keepsakes on shelves that looked like they belonged in a museum. A woman at reception informed me that our original room wasn’t ready, so instead, she upgraded us to a 3 bedroom suite.

Certainly not necessary, but hey, I’ll take an upgrade.

Thank you universe!

I took the elevator to the third floor, rolled my suitcase down the hallway, then down two steps to the old wooden door on the right where I made my way inside.

As the door clicked behind me and I walked a few steps, I felt like I had accidentally booked a stay at Buckingham Palace.

Vaulted ceilings, massive old-style windows, elegant navy blue curtains and a wide hallway leading to the bedrooms. The whole place had this rich, historic, slightly haunted charm, like the kind of suite where you’d find someone’s old leather journal full of secrets tucked into a drawer from a hundred years ago.

And then I looked out the window.

Staying in a cemetery was not mentioned in the brochure.

The living room windows overlooked a busy main street, but every other window in the entire place? They looked directly into an ancient cemetery.

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.

I stepped closer, my eyes adjusting to the scene outside. Tall, weathered tombstones stood just beyond the double-paned slightly foggy glass, close enough to read the inscriptions if I tried. The building wasn’t just next to a cemetery—it was practically part of it.

Oh Good. This is Fantastic.

Later, I would learn this was Old Calton Burial Ground (opened in 1718) - one of the most well-known and historically significant cemeteries in Edinburgh. The heart of the city.

Which, yes, is a really cool fact in broad daylight.

At night? Alone? Different story.

I’d be sleeping here alone for a night, and something about it gave me the heebie-jeebies. I tried to ignore the feeling, telling myself it was just my imagination. The energy was overwhelming to my senses.

Purple showing the apartment/Green showing where I slept 😅

Intuition. Spidey senses. NOW is not the time!

I mean, I did want to lean into the spooky charm, fully embracing the mystery of it all. Be one with the spirits. Do some channeling. Meditate on the past.

But nope.

Instead, I sent my brother a photo of the cemetery directly outside the bedroom window:

Him: “Is that a graveyard?!”

Me (Inside Voice): Oh good, so i’m not imagining this.

Him: “Interesting. Might be ghosts".

Me (Inside Voice): He’s right, i’m in for a great night..might need to consider casually sleeping with all the lights on. 😅

Me: “Glad i’m all alone…” 🫠

Me (Inside Voice): SEND HELP, a teddy bear and Bambi on VHS.

A city meant to be explored slowly

To take my mind off the upcoming overnight stay, I wandered down to the Royal Mile, my senses overwhelmed by the mix of bagpipes, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee and pastries, and the winding streets that looked straight out of a Harry Potter movie.

There was no plan, no destination- just letting the city guide me.

I tucked into a tiny local coffee shop, warming my hands around a cappuccino as I watched the world pass by and wrote reflections in my journal. I followed side roads past the Writer’s Museum, pausing to take in the panoramic views.

I wandered into a bookstore, yearning to read a mythical highland story by a local author, then made my way to the lookout point outside the castle, where the whole city stretched out beneath the evening sky.

Eventually, I found a spot by a window for a quiet dinner, watching as locals and tourists moved through their own stories- some rushing, some lingering.

✨ What a place to be fully in the moment ✨

My highly effective sleep plan: Ignore everything and hope for the best.

I shut my bedroom door as I headed to sleep for the night (like that was somehow going to help). I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt like I wasn’t alone. Normally, I’m not scared of these types of things, but the sheer level of sensitivity I felt in the heavy air was enough to make anyone feel uneasy.

Naturally, I had to pee at 3 AM, which meant embarking on a strategic, well-lit journey down the long hallway, flipping on every single light switch like I was in a horror movie.

I was relieved to make it to morning after a restless sleep filled with wild dreams, and the odd feeling of being watched.

I wasn’t just staying at a cemetery. I was staying inside an energy field that holds centuries of history, grief and whispers of the past. And let me tell you, trying to ignore it was like trying to sleep next to a nightclub blasting techno.

My chosen bedroom, even the light shining in makes it eerie

I woke up to sunlight filtering through the clouds, casting a glow over King Arthurs Seat and the gravestones. History sitting still. I lay in bed, watching the city wake up, feeling a sense of peace.

Scotland isn’t just a place. It’s a feeling- something vast, ancient and impossible to ignore. It lingers in the air here.

If you tune in, you can feel it.

It whispers. You just have to listen. Sometimes it felt so familiar that I wondered if I had existed there at some point in another lifetime.

And for someone like me, someone who has spent years honing intuition, learning to sense the unseen- this place was overwhelming.

The question I still hold- was I ready to listen?

Or was Scotland about to make sure I had no choice?

Little did I know, this was only the beginning of my experiences in Edinburgh. There were more surprises waiting for me- ones that involved the storm of a lifetime, eerie coincidences and a rather large eight-legged visitor on my pillow.

Stay tuned for Part 2: Storms & Spiders

To be continued…