I’m terrified of ghosts and stayed in one of the most haunted hotels in Ottawa

My entire life, I’ve adored Halloween and everything that comes with it.

There’s something about this time of year – the crisp turn of the autumn leaves, the gradual return of the pumpkin spice latte to coffee shops, and the general sense of hygge or cosiness – that warms my soul.

So, when the opportunity came to visit Ottawa and the neighbouring Quebec region in Canada in October, I jumped at the chance, picturing stunning red forest hues and pumpkins galore.

However, Canada, touted as the ultimate autumnal destination, hasn’t always been besotted with the now quintessential tradition that is Halloween. It was largely brought over by Scottish and Irish immigrants to the country in the 1800s, with the first recorded tradition of dressing up found on the west coast in Vancouver.

Fast forward to the 21^st century, and the spirit of the season is found virtually on every Canadian street corner – where decorative pumpkins were almost everywhere.

It wasn’t just the pleasantries that come with the more quaint side of Halloween that we were acquainted with, though.

Upon arriving at the majestic Château Laurier in downtown Ottawa for a three-night stay, I noticed on my itinerary for the trip that we were to be greeted the next morning for a private tour of our hotel by a company called The Haunted Walk.

Erm, did they say haunted?

And at this point, a lifelong phasmophobic (AKA, a fear of ghosts), I felt my heart pound in my chest and shivers down my spine. At that moment, I just knew that the hotel was haunted – and so instead of burying it in my mind and enjoying a night of rest after almost 20 hours of travelling, I decided to go down an internet rabbit hole.

It’s safe to say that I didn’t quite manage the knockout night of rest I was hoping for. I slept with my earplugs in and eye mask on (as I throughout my stay), crossing all my fingers (and toes) that I didn’t have any ghoulish encounters, and quickly jumping into bed as soon as I switched my light off.

The next morning, I put on a brave face and present an image of a 26-year-old woman who certainly didn’t believe in and wasn’t absolutely petrified of ghosts and took the tour in my stride.

Along the way, we learned about the demise of the hotel’s founder, Charles Melville Hays, an American businessman and owner of Grand Trunk Railway who, having overseen the hotel’s creation, died on board the Titanic as he was crossing the Atlantic to view it.

As such, his ghost is said to haunt the hotel to this day, taking in the majestic details of the halls he never got the chance to frequent before his time on earth was tragically cut short.

Hays isn’t the only spirit said to walk the corridors of the four-star hotel. As our guide informed us, there have been multiple instances where guests and staff alike have heard a baritone voice singing in the stairwell, only to discover that there’s no one there.

The fifth floor of the seven-floor hotel is also notoriously haunted, where guests have experienced rattling and shaking. Elsewhere, various staff members have reported furniture being moved around.

Luckily, I was left unscathed, as thankfully I was staying on the sixth floor – but that didn’t stop the hairs on my arms standing on end.

Haunted hotels aside though, Ottawa had so much charm. Though our Ottawa Tourism guide informed us that we were in fact missing the peak of the autumn majesty (referred to as fall rhapsody by the local tourist boards) by about two weeks, I was none the wiser.

Parks across the city of Ottawa were already dotted with tones of orange, yellow and red, warmed by the fact that temperatures were unseasonably warm, resting at around 20C for the duration of our trip.

It sounds almost unhinged, but I was hoping for a few degrees cooler so I could truly bask in the warmth of my autumnal jumper and scarf, but we can’t have it all.

As the political capital of Canada, Ottawa is home to a lot of history – and the Houses of Parliament, which are very closely modelled on the Westminster version, were mere metres from my hotel room.

Though parliament is currently closed for refurbishments (and will be until roughly 2031), the tours have been replaced by a virtual, immersive experience, which is completely free to book and takes place in the Senate (also opposite the famous Château Laurier hotel).

When it comes to history, politics isn’t the only sphere that’s represented in Ottawa: there’s also a deep culinary history tied to the region, as we learned on a walking food tour with C’est Bon Ottawa.

Canada might not be world-renowned for its food (besides perhaps poutine, a delicious rendition of cheesy chips with gravy for which the cheese curds are absolutely essential), but there was so much to learn about how the foodie culture has shaped Ottawa in particular.

The ByWard Market area itself is inundated with culinary delights, from the poutine and vegetarian wings (lovingly made with cauliflower) at Pure Kitchen to the Bloody Caesar (a rendition of a Bloody Mary made with Clamato juice rather than tomato) and Hawaiian pizza (sorry, Italians) at The Grand.

At the market stalls of ByWard Market, we were introduced to the beauty that is maple butter (like maple syrup but, you guessed it, worked into a buttery spread), learning that Canada is responsible for roughly 71% of the world’s pure maple syrup, of which a whopping 91% is produced in the Quebec region.

Treating our sweet tooths further, we sampled a beavertail at the aptly named BeaverTails, a type of pastry served with a range of toppings throughout the year.

We were trustingly handed a Killaloe Sunrise, topped with a mouthwatering combination of cinnamon, sugar and lemon, a dish that’s typically enjoyed during the winter after a skate on the UNESCO World Heritage Site of the Rideau Canal.

And finally, our lives were changed with a taste of the Nanaimo bar at Planet Coffee, washed down with an iced coffee (topped with cream, as a special treat).

An endlessly opulent snack, this sweet luxury consists of three layers: coconut crumb, custard and chocolate ganache. I promptly googled a recipe to ensure that I could experience a slice of this bliss when I arrived back home in England.

Culinary and political history aside, there’s also a darker side to Canada’s origin, which we learned about at Mādahòkì Farm. Narrating the experiences of the Indigenous people of Canada, through their history to the present day, the farm dates back to the 1850s.

Here, we learned about the treatment of Indigenous people, including the horrific stories that came out of the residential school system, which saw children taken from their families and communities as part of an assimilation policy – an important chapter in Canada’s history that only ended in 1994, and should never be forgotten.

The farm’s name translates to ‘share the land’ in the Anishnaabe language, which reflects the farm’s community focus.

During our visit, which lasted almost the entirety of the day, we were transported away from the stresses of everyday life and taken to a place where time moved just a little bit slower; only once did our guide say she was going to use ‘colonisation time’ (AKA, a slightly stricter timetable) to allow us to press on with the day without overrunning and being late to our evening plans.

As such, we learned about the history of Turtle Island, as well as the rich cultural heritage of toasting Bannock by the fire, the power of pow-wow dance, the story of the spirit horses, and the tradition of making dreamcatchers (which hold onto the good dreams and banish the nightmares down the feathers at the bottom, never to be repeated again).

It wasn’t just Ottawa we were there to see, though: after our three-night stay at the Château, we moved onto the beautifully secluded Chelsea Village in the Outaouais region of Quebec, separated from Ontario by the Alexandra Bridge spanning the Ottawa River, a destination that feels like something straight out of Gilmore Girls (AKA, a small-town autumnal haven).

We were whisked away to the idyllic Lofts du Village, nestled right next to Gatineau Park and mere minutes away from the Pink Lake. Both stylish and modern, we were given spacious units – and, with a rainfall shower, ambient vibe and lush views that almost felt as though we were in the forest itself, instantly relaxed.

That evening, we enjoyed the best meal of the trip at Les Fougeres, where we tucked into a seasonal pumpkin soup, green salad, roast duck with blue cheese, and olive oil cake garnished with white chocolate and peach.

And, after (begrudgingly) checking out of our lofts the next day, we spent our final afternoon at the other-worldly Nordik Spa-Nature next door.

The largest spa in North America, it featured numerous swimming pools, saunas and massage treatments – and, as I sipped on a mimosa in a hot tub with my new-found friends, I wondered whether I’d ever felt quite so relaxed.

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