Well ok, except for the black, the cobwebs, and the cute miniature vultures, in the day time it looks like an ordinary hotel.

And it’s very popular with the guests, I mean, some of them come back year after year, even though it costs 240 euros a night and you have to sign a contract stating categorically that you do not suffer from any kind of heart condition before they let you spend the night there.

In fact by the looks of this guest, some of them like it so much THEY NEVER LEAVE…

So it is with hearts full of courage and stomachs full of mojito and strawberry daquiri, that 5 intrepid bloggers, Sticky Tara, Lovely Laura AWNTYM, fabulous Little Erica, Dulwich Devil Alice,  and myself, decide to go outside and have a listen for a bit, you know, to see if we can catch any screaming.

The evening is warm, moist, yet as we near the darkened area of the ‘Far West’, needles of fear run down our spines like fine small points of ice.  Chattering with dampened voices we attempt an air of nonchalance, but all are vigilant, eyes flitting from window to window, from rickety steps to the mouldering barrels and boxes that surround one door and seem in the dark to be filled with evil intent.

There is no one around,( except for that young couple sucking face on the bench opposite), but apart from that, there is no one around.  Because you see, unless you are a guest at Hotel Burn, it’s unlikely you will know what horrors occurr nightly, from the beginning of September to the end of November, within these very walls.  We ourselves only know of it’s existence due to lunch with press officer, Oriel, who takes us for a sneaky peek and can barely talk about his own night of terror in Port Aventura’s Halloween Special.  Let’s just say the words ‘chain’ and ’saw’ were used one after the other in the same sentence. Gulp.

Cough, anyway, we approach the hotel and wait in the thickening gloom.

Suddenly a grey haired figure drifts past a window in the stairwell, then the unmistakeable red and black stripes of Freddy Krueger, both on their way to scare, scar and quite possibly skewer those who have dared to put their ’screaming muscles’ to the test.  And scream they do.  Behind the window where Laura, Erica and I lurk there is laughter and muttering and noises that leave everything to the imagination, especially when you don’t speak Spanish.  Is it the maddened ramblings of a party of terrorized guests attempting bravado by sharing a flimsy joke while awaiting the next tap on the shoulder, unfamiliar face in the mirror or otherworldly scream as their worst nightmare enters the room and quite possibly their dreams for the next millenia?  Or is something truly horrible happening?  Is this the mocking laughter of ghouls  and sirens who have captured and subdued their unwitting prey and are now sat gathered round their body feasting upon terror?

At the other end Tara and Alice stand silently watching the door.  I hear them whispering nervously.

“Can you see it?”

“It’s there.”

“Oh God, it’s coming this way.”

A door creaks, a low voice utters, “Bahhh” and we run, screaming into the blackness.  Somehow we find our way behind a cart full of barrels and it is there we spend the rest of the watching hour.  The ghouls know we are there.  Several venture from the door an we duck as one, but we learn something that night people.  We learn that Mummy Bloggers are braver than you might think, and next time…..?

Next time we’ll be ready…

Muwah ha ha ha haaaaaa