Eerie Edinburgh

Scotland is home to more than two thousand recorded castles.

Some are well known. Others are easy to miss - broken walls in the landscape, visited by only a handful of people at a time.

In this episode, we’re focusing on three of those lesser-known sites: Auchindoun, Drumin, and Kildrummy.

All within the same part of the country. All tied to the same stretch of history. And all connected to experiences people have struggled to account for.

From reports of a child crying within the ruins of Auchindoun, to unexplained footsteps on the narrow staircase of Drumin, to sightings of a figure standing briefly in the courtyard at Kildrummy - the accounts are subtle, brief, and often difficult to explain.

These aren’t places normally described as some of Scotland’s most haunted.

And that’s what makes the accounts so interesting.

Taken individually, each one is small. A sound. A movement. A figure glimpsed and then gone.

But taken together, across multiple sites within such a small area, a different picture begins to form.

Not of a single haunting, but of something broader.

Something tied not just to the buildings, but to the ground they stand on.

When people think of Scotland’s major battles, places like Bannockburn or Culloden usually come to mind.

But just outside the town of Crieff, there’s another battlefield that doesn’t get the same attention - Sheriffmuir.

In 1715, two armies met there during the Jacobite rising. By the end of the day, neither side had won. Both claimed victory, but the outcome settled nothing. The campaign stalled, and what followed wasn’t a clean retreat or a clear defeat - it was something far less defined.

And that aftermath didn’t stay on the battlefield.

In this episode, we look at what happened next - not just the history, but the accounts that have been reported in and around Crieff since.

From repeated sightings of a man standing at the roadside along the A85, to a strange figure seen on a path at the edge of town, and the long-standing reports tied to Ferntower House.

These aren’t well-known stories, and some are being shared here for the first time. Most come from people who experienced something, tried to make sense of it, and were left with more questions than answers.

I’d also like to thank Scott for passing on his family’s account, and for taking the time to share the details behind it. Stories like that don’t always make it beyond a small circle, so having it sent through made a real difference when putting this episode together.

In 1878, in the small town of Amherst, Nova Scotia, a series of strange events began inside the home of a young woman named Esther Cox.

At first, it was the sound of knocking. Then objects started to move. Fires broke out without warning. What began as a private disturbance quickly became something much larger, drawing in neighbours, reporters, and even men described at the time as “scientific gentlemen,” all trying to make sense of what was happening inside the house on Church Street.

Some believed Esther was at the centre of it. Others thought something else was at work entirely.

Over the following months, the case would escalate to the point that Esther herself was brought before the courts - not as a witness, but as the accused.

In this episode, we take a closer look at the Amherst Poltergeist, exploring the events as they were recorded at the time, the people who witnessed them, and the question that still sits at the centre of the case:

what, if anything, was really happening in that house?

Hospitals are built around routine, vigilance, and care. By day they are busy, practical places filled with staff, patients, and visitors moving constantly through corridors and wards.

But the atmosphere can change after midnight.

Lights are dimmed. Visiting hours end. Activity narrows to smaller teams carrying out the steady work of monitoring, observation, and care through the night.

It’s during those hours that many of the strangest experiences reported by medical staff seem to occur.

In this episode, I share a series of first-hand accounts from people who have worked night shifts in hospitals and care settings across Scotland. These are not hollywood ghost stories, but brief encounters that happened during otherwise ordinary shifts, incidents that stayed with the people who experienced them long after the night ended.

These accounts come from environments defined by pressure, exhaustion, vigilance, and proximity to death. Whether they are the result of stress, suggestion, shared culture, or something more difficult to explain remains open to interpretation.

But across different hospitals and across generations of staff, similar stories continue to come to light.

Share your experience!

I’m currently researching a book focused on unexplained experiences reported in hospitals, care homes, and other care settings across Scotland and the wider UK.

If you’re a current or former member of staff or if you’ve had an experience as a patient or relative that stayed with you, I’d genuinely like to hear from you.

email me at: [email protected] 

All correspondence will be treated with discretion and respect.

In this episode, we look at the 1897 Greenbrier Ghost case - the only known instance where a mother’s account of her daughter’s haunting helped reopen a murder investigation - and the 1925 Chaffin Will incident, where a family dispute took an unexpected turn after a son claimed his late father had returned with instructions.

These aren’t the usual stories about figures in corridors or unexplained noises. They’re cases where something people couldn’t easily explain ended up shaping real decisions - the sort that left traces in court papers and official records that still exist today.

We’ll look at what actually happened in both cases, why they were taken seriously at the time, and how belief, memory, and determination shaped the outcomes far more than spectacle or superstition.

If you enjoy episodes that balance folklore with documented history, this one’s for you.