Say the name ‘’Baker Street’ to most people and their immediate thoughts will turn to Sherlock Holmes, the seemingly infallible detective of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s extraordinary (if occasionally flawed) imagination. Ask them to name anything else connected with this street and many (including me) will mention the haunting and poignant autobiographical song by Gerry Rafferty.
Baker Street is in Marylebone in the heart if the bustling city. It has a busy, major underground station (on the Bakerloo line) and, right around the corner stands Madame Tussaud’s and the London Planetarium, but Baker Street itself is an unprepossessing thoroughfare, with seemingly little but legend to recommend it.
Meanwhile, nearby, the (now closed) two-hundred-year-old Kenwood House Hotel, not only had sightings of an apparition dressed as a Cavalier gentleman, but it also possessed that most fascinating of supernatural entities - haunted furniture. Specifically, the drawers opened and closed by themselves, and the mirror…poltergeist activity has been reported. With no guests to tease or terrify, it is not known if the ghosts still haunt.
At 245-247, the Volunteer Gastropub not only feeds and refreshes its visitors, but guests can also look out for the ghost of Rupert Nevill, whose family owned a large manor house on that site which burned down in 1654. He is said to appear in the cellar – indeed, the cellars are the originals so would be familiar to him. Eerie noises and unexplained, scary sightings have been a feature as far back as when the pub was used as a recruiting station during World War Two. They certainly seem to serve up spirits of a different kind at The Volunteer.
Deep underground isn’t free of apparitions either. Travellers on the Bakerloo line have reported seeing the reflection of a ghostly figure in the window, sitting next to them. But there is no one there… And after dark, track workers have reported a ghostly workman. One worker heard footsteps approaching him as he sat having his break. They crunched the gravel, growing closer and closer until they stopped around thirty feet away from him. But their owner was nowhere to be seen.
You should also take care if you see a
sign to Canonbury Ducis. I would avoid it if I were you. Alli Sinclair didn’t –
and look what happened…
The After-Death of Caroline Rand
It begins with a chilling greeting: "Welcome to The Columbine, Miss Sinclair. You are expected..."
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