May 12th, 2025Kyle’s Rant
On a recent road trip, a couple of weird things happened that made me shake my head at the universe.
Now if you think this yarn is going down into the potholes and dickhead drivers subject I am normally red hot on, you are wrong.
This is a tale on the path of embarrassment, horror and fear.
The first part of the journey was a night in a hotel up the road a bit, in Albury, which is where the embarrassment came into play. I am not one for public speaking and try to avoid the spotlight as much as possible. In fact, Donna does all the ABC Radio Paper Chase segments, not because it is some ungodly hour of the morning, but because I simply don’t like the sound of my own voice.
At funerals, weddings and any time that I am required to offer a quivering-voiced piece of advice I start by saying “I’ll keep this short and sweet”.
Anyway, I found myself in a line to sign in and get my keys for the night at the hotel when a rather rattled elderly man jumped the queue to ask the staff for assistance. He explained to the reception team an older woman had fallen down some stairs.
The reception team didn’t seem to be worried and kept processing the guests so this is where I fired into action and followed the guy saying to him “I can help, I have a first aid certificate”.
I imagined the woman was lying on some steps in a dark stairwell needing my 40 years of back-to-back first aid certification I have been doing since I was 17. At last, my skills and training would pay off.
The man, with me hot on his tail, busted through a set of double doors leading into an auditorium with around 200 people seated, all looking my way. He yelled “I have the medico, I have the medico”. Hello, stage fright.
I made my way to the stage where I helped the poor old girl to her feet, which resulted in applause from the audience, and then it was literally exit stage left. Like a scene from Thank God You’re Here.
The next milestone moment of the road trip was in Maitland, NSW. Donna had chosen this place to stay for the night. I had glimpsed at the photos she showed me and it looked fabulous.
But we then rolled up to this rather ominous-looking building, in fact gargoyles perching on the rooftop wouldn’t have been out of place. After checking in I went down to get a couple of things from the car and said to the receptionist “please don’t tell me this place was an old hospital?”.
“No,”she replied, “this place used to be a Catholic orphanage”.
I asked if there were any ghosts but “only if you believe” she replied. So I self-medicated with wine to get to sleep, as I am a little sensitive to these things, and as I nodded off, Donna asked what was wrong with my breathing?.
I told her I felt like there was something heavy on my chest and then slipped into an alcoholic-induced slumber until about 2.30am when I was woken by the pitter patter of little feet running up and down the hallway. I was awake for hours after that, hearing all sorts of things that went bump in the night.
As the morning light started to come into the room I managed to get a bit more sleep and when we finally woke around seven, I told Donna my tales of terror and showed her some rather deep scratch marks on my stomach.
She is not a believer but she had also heard the constant running up and down the hallway. A quick Google of the place in question revealed it was not uncommon to hear such tales, in fact there is a whole web page devoted to it which include a groom-to be feeling someone pressing on his chest and yelling “get out, get out”.
Embarrassment, horror and fear rant over… (Ed’s note: I am not a believer but I won’t be staying there again. Very strange.)
