When I was 17 my sister, seek her 3-year old son and I drove from Calgary to Nova Scotia to stay in our parent’s newly purchased cottage for the entire summer. We knew no one in the immediate area but we did have some family friends in Nova Scotia – most notably Mike and Nancy Ardenne who lived in Seabright near Peggy’s Cove. Mike was a great storyteller and one night over dinner he and his mother Louise (who had also come to dinner) regaled us with all sorts of ghost stories – some that had happened to them. The one Louise told us was about how when Mike was a baby they lived in a duplex that had once been a hotel during the Rum Running days. One night she heard a baby crying and crying and thought the baby on the other side of the wall must be sick. The next morning the neighbour came over and asked if Mike was okay because she had heard him crying all night. EEK! I’m freaking myself out just writing it. Apparently a woman had hung herself in the house when it was a hotel (of course – I mean, what self respecting N.S. hotel hasn’t had a women hang herself in it?) Louise also said that she used to find all the stuff in her room moved around until one day she got so angry she yelled at the ghost to stop it – and it never happened again (the kids were too young at the time to be the ones moving things, just in case you are suspicious). The only story I remember Mike telling us was about a hitchhiker in the fog.
Amanda and I had a long drive through pea-soup fog back to the dark and isolated cottage that night. If I remember correctly we had to sleep in the same bed for a couple nights after that.