A TRUE GHOST STORY
Photo credit: blary54 from morguefile.com
Our cycle route today – nineteen point three terrifying English miles, only to be treated to a most ghostly and frightening experience – it will truly be a long time before the Uxbridge Loiterers Cycle Club visit this shivering scary pub in Colnbrook England again!
Following consultations with the committee, today’s ride report format has needed to be revised to allow a true account of things to be expressed in a calm rational and objective fashion.
Above all in writing this report I have needed to draw upon resolve and muster, that otherwise would render me motionless. This account I promise will remain naturalistic and realistic, as it is important our membership does not decline.
In my view The Uxbridge Loiterers Cycle Club would never be the same again. If you are of a sensitive or churlish nature I strongly advise now that you stop reading, go and make yourself a nice cup of tea and watch an episode of Columbo or something like that, which will allow the hairs on the back of your neck to fletter once more.
Oh yes the day started out like any other. We all met at Uxbridge at around 10am on Wednesday 10th November 2010, the day before Armetist day. We English like to celebrate Armetist to remember all those that have fought past horrific wars. I digress; I need to indite today’s events to scribe as quickly as possible before it gets dark.
It was a bright sunny day, a little chilly at around 13 degrees Centigrade. How many riders today? Thirteen ooooohhhhh! And we all set off on our bikes without a care in the world as happy as lambs.
Our first tea stop was on the outskirts of Windsor in a small village called Datchet – there is a small well-kept café called ‘The Bridge’. We all had a very nice cup of tea, yes and some had coffee – that’s the American influence.
Soon we were on the move again, looking very much forward to our lunch. This was to be at the third oldest pub in the United Kingdom. Dating back from 1106. What pub I hear you ask? I will cut straight to the chase – The Ostrich in Colnbrook!
Oh yes on first glance as you enter the cobbled courtyard leading to this Historic Coaching Inn, the pub looks like any other that you would expect to see in the heart of England. Yet the old wooden ceiling beams seemed to speak volumes in their silence. The huge roaring fires had peering silvery distorted faces within their flames. As I gazed deep within the yellowy flickers, lost in my little rohloff world – I jumped as this voice from nowhere crippled a gruff tenuance in my ear.
“A table for 13 sir?”
This could not be the famous landlord of the 1400s? An apparition? He was dressed in a dark moth eaten suit covered with cobwebs and dust; I would say he was about 6 foot 5 inches tall. His teeth were black and rotten – his thick breath smelt like a mouldy loaf and the green saliva seemed wholly inappropriate for a restaurant like this one (I won’t be having the pea soup!). Before I could answer he said
“You cannot leave now sir the door has shut tight behind you – you MUST order or……”
“Or what??” I enquired, “What do you mean the door is shut tight??”
He seemed not to take any notice of my questions…
“Your table for 13 is ready sir – I strongly suggest you sit down sir, all will be well UNLESS you do not sit down”
There was a pause, and then he went on to say
“I suggest your friends do the same….”
…..adding in a quieter very slow menacing voice……
“Very quickly”
He then disappeared through a Smokey door into the kitchen. We then ALL sat down in unison!
Shortly after, a well-dressed man approached our table and addressed us all.
“Oh I see you have arrived with your guests Mr Lowery”
He went on “How did you know this was your table? Normally I like to show people to their tables myself?”
I wiped several beads of sweat from my brow, slightly frowning and by way of my inquisitiveness I explained…
“We were shown to the table by a very tall gruff gentleman dressed in a black cobwebby suit – his breath smelt a bit and he went though those doors a minute ago?” I pointed towards the kitchen door.
Our new waiter responded, “I can assure you sir – there is no one of that description working here and any way that’s the kitchen sir and I can guarantee our chef dresses in white – and he is only 5 foot 2 inches tall?” He went on to say, “and he is CLEAN SIR!!”
The thirteen of us looked nervously at each other, shuffling in our seats (there were a few bottom burps), ALL in an instant glanced towards the kitchen door in disbelief. I have never seen Triky Bob look so baffled! To top it all, Don gave me one of his discerning looks and grabbed his pipe amid the pongy smell, for a smoke outside! – Which means I’m in trouble again!
We sort of enjoyed our meal, paid and then left in silence.
See you next time??????? ooooooohhhhhhhh
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