A Dublin Ghost Tour: The Pig Man

So, I have a funny Halloween-esque story for you all. It happened in Dublin (of all places), almost 3 years ago. My best friend/roommate Kassi and I had decided to visit Ireland for a couple days since we were already in London for grad school, so it was just a quick flight away. Upon entering a travel agency looking at local activities in their pamphlets, we saw an ad for a Dublin Ghost Bus tour. Now, if you know me, I love ghost shit. Any haunted anything I'm down for (as long as there's a Catholic church nearby so I can douse myself in holy water afterwards). We eagerly signed up and headed to the meeting spot that night, unsure but excited to see what would happen.

The bus was this double-decker purple bus complete with spooky decor like spider webs, electric candles, scary music—the works. We climbed up to the second deck trying to find a seat; unfortunately we had to sit apart because there were no seats left next to each other. I sat in the very back with this group of Irish people who looked to be about my age. The girl next to me was really sweet and asked if I was alone, and if I was ever scared I could hang out with them (this is why Irish people are great). Kassi was up towards the front where the presenter stood before us, donned in tattered clothes, white face paint, and black circles painted around his eyes. In his thick Irish accent, he welcomed us to the tour, and we began our journey.

As we zigzagged through the city, the presenter would recount eery tales of Dublin's history—from mass illnesses; murder; and fatal accidents. We soon pulled up to this building that I believe he said used to be home to the local nuns, and he had us get off the bus so we could tour the property and listen to a spooky story about the place. As Kassi and I stood huddled together in the cold, surrounded by fellow tourists and native Irish men and women, the presenter lead us up some scary ass staircase that lead to the property. They were against this old brick wall, and the mist in the air was definitely adding a "you're fucked" feeling amongst us.

The presenter began to tell a story about some killer man who had the face of a pig. Now, I think the story was that he wore the head of a pig over his face when he went out for his murdering spree (but I could be absolutely wrong on this). But, the point of this is, while the presenter was telling us this story, a man ran out of the shadows squealing like a pig—with a very realistic pig mask on. Let me tell you, I felt true fear at that moment. We all succumbed to bouts of laughter afterwards; then he approached us again on another area of the property just by standing among us until one person screamed upon noticing. It was great fun, but I still couldn't close my eyes in the shower later that night.

The tour concluded at the Gravedigger's Pub, named for the men who, obviously, dug graves and would come to this pub after work. It was small, very Irish, and filled with—you guessed it—Irish people. We were all given a free shot of some mysterious green liquid, drank a pint, then headed back to the city center. It was well worth every penny, and I highly recommend you do it if you ever visit Dublin.

See you next Sunday for the final Halloween-inspired post!