The Badger Bar and the Grey Lady

Arriving back in misty Cumbria after a whirlwind fortnight in Edinburgh is a shock to the system, albeit one softened by climbing Arthur's Seat yesterday afternoon. Arthur's Seat gives a fantastic vantage point from which to map the city - sea to the East, industrial fringes to the West, blackened spires and the walls of the Castle marking a bullseye in the centre. If I were to chart my own map of Edinburgh city centre, the focal points would be The Banshee Labyrinth, a series of sofas where friends were kind enough to let me crash and many (too many) pubs. There'd also be a set of more abstract peaks and troughs sketched in to reflect how mixed our performances of 'A Pint..' were. Last week, British Theatre Review gave the one-woman version of the piece a pleasing 3 stars, though they would have preferred a little more theatricality. By far the best accolade as far as I'm concerned, however, is making it into a Top 5 Shows To Get You Tipsy. Couldn't ask for better than that...

Back in Grasmere, I'm already being assailed by ghostly tales. In the taxi on my way back from the station, we passed the Badger Bar, a mere five minutes from my house towards Rydal. The driver, who had previously been regailing me with stories about horse dressage, suddenly became animated. He began to tell me about a time some twenty years ago when he'd been working in the pub, putting emulsion on some panels in the dining room, when he glimpsed the ghost of an elusive 'grey lady'.

As he painted, he became aware of a sudden chill in the room that seemed to gather and pool around him, almost like a blanket. Looking behind him, he glimpsed a woman's head and shoulders through the glass doors to the room beyond. At first, he assumed it was one of the girls who worked in the pub - "simple lasses, good for pot washing but not much else. I went to tell her off for being where she shouldn't be..." - but as he made towards the door, the figure vanished as soon as it had appeared. Had it been one of the 'pot washers', they would have had to go through the external door, but the figure's disappearence was soundless. He switched all the heaters on in the room and consigned the vision to a 'daft moment'. In fact, he didn't think of it again until years later, when guests in the bar also reported seeing a stately female figure in the very same spot...

I didn't have much time to dwell on his story, because he was off again: "See that there hedge? I planted that in 1976...". I might have to pay a visit to the Badger Bar before too long. Purely in the name of research, of course. I'll report on any spirits who try to steal mine.