“If you feel a chilly breeze and no one else in the group looks like they did too, it’s most probably a ghost is trying to talk to you” Said my guide. I hold tightly to my notebook, pretending not to care.
It wasn’t what I had expected from a tour through the old streets of Sydney , but when an opportunity to uncover some of the darkest secrets through the lanes at the foot of the Sydney Harbour Bridge , I could not refuse the offer.
I have joined The Rocks Ghost Tours for a little insight into the historical houses around The Rocks district. At first it intrigued me as trying to find something Sydney is not known for, but now, I think I am discovering I am really afraid of the dark.
The Rocks is part of historical Sydney, being one of the oldest districts of Sydney city, its cobbled streets nestled among many iconic structures such as the bridge and the Sydney Opera House, is home to some of the best markets and outdoor concerts in Sydney , not to mention the historical values of many structures still left in the area. Not many people know however, that behind that sunny and cheerful vibe, looms eerie ghostly tales.
Our tour guide took us through the small lanes behind popular cafes and bake houses I regularly visit for my Sunday afternoon coffee, however by moonlight, everything seemed so strangely unfamiliar. The clacking of our heels on the cobbled street echoed all around us. No one dared to raise their voice in such quiet and creepy surroundings. Dramatically he lifted a finger and pointed to a window high above. “Did you all see that?” We jumped, eyes gazing towards the direction. “A little girl was just staring down at us.”
I didn’t want to know, yet a twinge of curiosity keeps me going.
Continuing on, we were explained about the Dead House, which is now The Old Coroner’s Court, where many innocent dead were place and their spirit still lingers to seek justice. We were told about the mutilated body found in a lane nearby, and other stories of murders and bloodlust criminals.
Shivering, but not from the cold, I noted down as much as I wanted to remember.
We reached the harbour side and it was approaching 9pm. Waterfront diners and night dwellers march down the broad walk hastily, chatting away in cheerfully within themselves. They do not know of the ghosts of the past, hovering between each of the buildings and in and out of the streets, whispering revenge into the air.
The sky was littered with bright sparkling stars, yet my heart still pounded away from the experience through the dark side.