Things that go bump in the night....

Picture the scene if you will.... Two zombies, a witch, a blind washerwoman, a damned huntsman, three hell hounds, a 'passing vampire', the White Lady of Godolphin, two ghoulish smugglers, a wood wose, a goblin and a ghost hunter all sat round a table on the evening of All Souls, swapping tales over a crate of lager, bottles of wine, hunks of buttered crusty bread, a box of mince pies and a packet of chocolate muffins.


You will no doubt have deduced that I'm describing a Hallowe'en party. The additional fun element was that we were all National Trust staff debriefing after a hard night's haunting on the woods and heaths of the Godolphin Estate. The National Trust runs ghostwalks annually on Hallowe'en at several properties in the region. The rangers here alternate the local event between Godolphin House and Penrose. This year was Godolphin's turn so Julie Hanson, the Area Warden, kindly allowed the Count House to be commandeered as a backstage dressing room stocked with masks, ragged costumes, plastic fangs, face paint and fake blood.

Each year we are over-booked and normally full by the end of September. Matters were made worse by the accidental mention we got in the local paper. Only 5 or 6 families can come each time so that numbers can stay manageable; children don't get lost in the dark and the eerie intimacy of the night's experience isn't lost in a blaze of torchlight.




Mark Harandon, the part-time warden at Godolphin is also a professional storyteller and it falls to him each time to concoct a horrific tale and a tour punctuated by various characters along the way. Each of the wardens and volunteers were given their roles and a dusting of suggested lines and stage directions and given free rein to improvise costumes and polish their acts.

The success of the evening relies on Mark leading a bewildered band of stumbling children and their parents through darkened woodland paths while spinning his spooky yarn. The rest of us then manifest ourselves on queue - often having to disappear into the darkness again and change quickly into another costume in time for the next ambush.

I had to be a howling hound and then a Smeagol-like wood goblin.
Changing out of a dark boiler suit into a white disposable hooded overall by torchlight in a patch of brambles was an unrehearsed experience - but Smeagol was in position by the bridge just as the zombies gave their moan.

After the frights of the night, the volunteers headed down (in costume) to the Blue Anchor in Helston - a famed micro-brewery which boasts 4 different kinds of 'Spingo' ale. We joined the pub quiz at the beginning of round 3, won 4 free pints (which was useful as we ran out of money) and came a gracious 2nd by half a point.