The hunt for Jack. . .

I don't know why I do these Paranormal investigations. I never find anything, and I certainly don't sense anything like other members of the group can. (Really wish that I could though.) If anything, I sometimes feel a bit of a berk spending the evening calling out "Is anybody there?", when, quite clearly there isn't. Having said that, every paranormal investigation I have been on is great fun. We have in all seriousness had some stuff happen, ouija board has moved and we have heard unexplained noises. The  members mediumship abilities have picked up on all sorts of stuff too. (Again, jealous.)
More often than not though, it provides us with an opportunity to snoop around some interesting venues late at night and have a good giggle at the same time.

So, this was our latest venue. The Old Nick Theatre. Once a police station and courtroom, now a converted theatre seating 46 people upstairs, whilst downstairs the old police cells still remain.

The old courtroom. Converted into a stage and seating area. Small isn't it?

Here we have a delightful view of a Forrest! Just kidding. It's the stage for Narnia the Musical.

The entrance to the cells. Spooky huh?

One of the cells occupants. Mr. Bean. Locked up for crimes against comedy.

As I said, bugger all happened. The scariest thing we heard were Tony's sordid tales of Amsterdam, of which I wont repeat, but they were very entertaining!
So, after an evening that grew increasingly colder, of moving from room to room asking if anyone was there, There wasn't. Unless they were playing hide and seek, which would have been a bit naff because we can't see the buggers to begin with! We packed up at around 4:00am and headed back to Fawlty Towers. If I thought it was cold in that room at 8:00pm, it was flipping freezing by 4:10am! I nabbed the duvet off of the spare bed and put it over the top of the one I was sleeping in and hunkered down for the night. I say hunkered down, I spent the rest of the night shivering with cold and, partly in fear of the trouser less owner of the jeans that were sitting in my wardrobe would come back to collect them! Also, A hotel on a busy main street where you can't close the window means that you hear every single car, van and lorry trundle past, and surprisingly there are a lot of them up and about at that hour!
A few hours later and we were up and about. We headed home on the long journey back to Crawley, where a week of work, rehearsals and auditions beckoned.
Oh, in case you were wondering about the title. The hunt for Jack? Jack is Jack Shit, and he follows us everywhere!