Got any old Amigas?

I'm thinking about running this as an item, in between the ghosts and UFO stuff, and revelations via Terry. I need to have a think about it now look, after I've had another lovely pint of Herefordshire Skullkrushor Cider from the Kintgon vaults. And maybe some cheesey nibbles mmm.

The Most Haunted touched my hair

I used to enjoy getting back from The Swan look and watching a tape of the Most Haunted on the telly, with a take-out cider or two, but recently something's gone horribly wrong. There's a new series now and to be quite honest I'm thinking of giving it a miss now see and watching a tape of Passing Over To The Other Sides instead look.

For starters the nice 'historian' bloke has been replaced with a slightly sinister, extremely grumpy old woman who seems to hate everything. My mate Derek Pakora's gone, plus that other nice medium called David, and we now have some bald geezer who genuinely seems to suffer from some form of curtain enhanced distress - as he spends half the time muttering to himself, completely oblivious to what's going on and the levers provided by the rest of the crew.

Then there's the gasses. It used to be a few 'orbs', which I loved (bit of geometry in there as well as a UFO theme, lovely) but they've gone. Then there was the 'tap two times to say yes love' for the 'ghost conversations' over the rubber. Then there was the stone throwing at me stop it lark. Now though there now look seems to be hardly an episode go by without the ghosts laying into Carl or the other bald camera geezer please stop it Lorrie Barnes and giving them a good kicking as if it was filmed in Kington like.

And where has the sweaty Pink Floyd sound bloke gone? He was good, always getting 'the fevers'. Maybe he was killed by a ghost.

Then (I haven't finished yet look) there's the continual swearing when something happens. "Listen...can you hear tha..BLEEEEEP BLEEP BLEEEEEEEEEEEP...sounded like a..BLEEEEEEEEP". No, I didn't blinking hear it mate because you bleeping bleeped over it. And stop all the screaming and moaning about being frightened all the time. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE GHOST HUNTERS LOOK. If you can't handle it then give me a ring on the telephone and I'll nip over after the pub shuts.

But worst of all, for me like, is the one thing that hasn't changed, and that's Cafe 'something touched my hair'. Every episode she's in, something touches her hair. Is there a small dead horse in her hair? Are the follicles being re-aligned by magnets? Has her wig been abducted by aliens or is it only nits?

Come back historian bloke, come back Pink Floyd soundman. Come back David and Derek. Come back floating orb like light anomalies. We miss your smell and the shape of your things.

Solstice curtains

Sitting in the Chocolate Box cafe in Kington with my new laptop and a pot of tea, reflecting on the events of the past 36 hours. It was a good solstice - met a local 'shaman' known as 'The Gaffer' and his sidekick 'The Vicar' at pre-solstice celebrations in a barn near Titley before a ceremonial, cider fueled procession around the 23 pyramids of Kington. None are still standing obviously, but you can still smell them, and occasionally see the rubble and the odd local hieroglyph.

I'll write a bit more later, the cafe owner is giving me funny looks and trying to read this over my shoulder...

Beards - 'You have got arms' live

I quite like this one, performed on a full moon on the Leominster to Kinnersley alignment. I've been told the rhythm guitarist is a heavily disguised Thom Yorke from Radiohead, though I'm not sure that this is actually true.

Unknown Monkey Haunts Ridgeway Pub

This pleasant historic Kington pub looks almost welcoming to visitors, with an excellent 17th 19th century timber-frame structure and a fine period indoors decorated nice like.

Inside, the pub has all the ingredients that you would associate with a typical haunted thing. It dates back to the 1600's 1972 and has had many different uses across the twitching curtains of time. Underneath the old wooden floor of the pub is a blocked tunnel that is thought to connect, via levers to the Kington Pyramid, parts of which still stand nearby.

The inn was known to have been a Greggs bakery before it became a pub which was originally, and rather pleasantly, known as 'Greggs look.' Reputedly the inn took the name 'The Ridgeway Arms' from another public house which was situated further down the street called 'The Ridgeway Arms' around the year 1840 hunnert under the tenancy of one Rodney David Donkey.

One of the pub's ghosts is that of a little glass horse who is said to have been slaughtered in the kitchen for pies. The date of this pie is unfortunately not known but more than likely happened when the building was in use as a bakery, for pasties like. Whether there is any truth in this story depends on the alignment of your stick.

Documented occupants of the inn have included Tony Evans in 1850; a Wynn Rickety in 1891; Lulu, and a Ms. Amy Levers who was licensee in 1977.

The Ridgeway Arms has many interesting ghost stories, the best known being the sighting of a fat ghostly monkey that was once seen by many people in the area of the bar after hours one night. It is claimed that the monkey appeared slightly lower and it’s feet seemed to be below the pub's floor level, which could suggest that either the monkey was perhaps very tall, the floor was made from water, or monkey-boy had semi-permeable feet and legs. The fat monkey was seen walking through the bar area in the direction of the front window before he vanished before her face.

Other ghostly occurrences include light switches and electrical appliances frequently being turned on and off, apparently of their own accord, although the wiring is known to be a bit dodgy, and an onion once disappeared from the ghostly kitchen. Orbs have also been seen, but this could be a result of gas from the strong local cider brewed on the premises rubbing against the air.

There is also a haunted bedroom upstairs where a wardrobe door frequently slams shut on its own thing. Bangs and whistling are often heard coming from inside this piece of furniture as if there was a little man trapped inside.

In the pub's cellar the gas canisters have been known to turn on and off behind the hedges, and there is often a greasy atmosphere in this cold low-ceilinged tin. On one occasion a founder member of Hawkwind refused to enter the cellar and only stayed in the doorway, so evidently there is more than meets your eye to this local pub see.

Without a doubt this is a very historic and mysterious building and many of its alignments are still to be looked at like.