How I became A Welsh coalminer. Part IV. Subtitle: Simon and I stay in a haunted castle.

You might be wondering how many parts this Welsh coalminer saga has in total. The answer is five.

April 8, 2008 is officially the most exciting day that Simon and I have ever had, bar none. In Part II, I told you about how we haggled our way into a concrete boat in the morning. In Part III, I told you about how we were highway robbed by a police officer in the afternoon. That evening, I learned how to drive in England and then we spent the night in a haunted castle turned luxurious hotel.

Simon drove for a little while after our agitating encounter with the police officer. After a few minutes, though, I suggested that I drive to give Simon a break. I don't know how much of a break I managed to give him, though, as roundabouts and driving on the left side of the road turned out to be slightly harder than I expected. Nonetheless, I enjoyed being behind the wheel for the first time in a couple months and I only drove on the wrong side of the road a couple times.

We hit the idyllic valley after about an hour and stopped at the B&B, thinking we should just pack it in for the day. However, it was booked. The same was the case for three more B&B's that we encountered along the road, despite the fact that we were in the deep countryside, on a random weekday in cold early April. We ended up driving into Shropshire, England long after night had fallen.

We drove past a castle that was lit like a beacon in the deep dark of the countryside nighttime. "That castle is a hotel," Simon observed. "Want to try it?"

"Yeah! It's not like I get to stay in castles very often." I answered. After a tricky U-turn, I drove the car up the gravelly lane towards the castle and parked in an open space under a giant tree.

"It might be too expensive," Simon warned, so we left our bags in the car and walked up the path to the front entrance.

The castle is named Rowton Castle and was beautifully decorated and renovated. It was warm and inviting but also held all the fantasy and historical charm of an 800 year old castle. The room was £104 for the night, which was actually pretty reasonable. "Please. I want to stay in a castle." I begged. Simon indulged me.

"Are there any ghosts?" Simon asked the receptionist jokingly as we registered.

"A couple of the rooms have them. There is supposed to be one in this front hall, too."

"Cool." Simon said. But I didn't think that seeing a ghost would be cool at all, though not surprising considering how crazy this day had been.

We collected our bags from outside and I was followed by a cute black and white stray cat. (I may have petted it. Somewhere Liz is annoyed with me and calling me a crazy cat lady.)

We went up to our room after ensuring that the kitchen would remain open a few minutes longer for us. Our room was beautiful, with a large bed and beautiful bathroom. We celebrated with a quick whiskey and Coke before heading back down for dinner.

The hotel offered to keep its white table-clothed dining room open for us, but, rather than be too bothersome, we decided to eat in the lounge. The lounge was actually an elegant drawing room with leather couches, tables, and a fireplace. The fabrics were rich and the twin life-sized statues of greyhounds were genuinely appropriate and nice touches.

We had just ordered a bottle of red wine when the receptionist came over and apologized profusely. "I should have upgraded you," she explained. It took us a minute before we understood that she was offering to give us a better room since the hotel was quiet and its four-poster suites were empty. Naturally, we accepted this upgrade happily. She was genuinely distraught that we had to move our luggage, but Simon assured her that we were delighted, not upset. "Which room would you like?" she asked us.

"Which room do you recommend?" Simon countered.

She pointed us to two rooms and said, "this one has a better bed."

"Sold." I said.

We ordered our food and I tested the wine while Simon moved our bags. Although I had originally had us set up at a table, the hotel's manager kindly set us up to eat before the fireplace and started the fire going. It was so nice it felt surreal. It was amazing how, despite our run in with that jerky cop, the day turned out to be extraordinary.

"You are going to hate the room," Simon teased, when he returned and found me relaxing before the fire. Dinner turned out to be extremely good, too. The restaurant is apparently busy even when the hotel isn't because the food is so nice. The room was absolutely gorgeous, of course. I especially appreciated the travertine tile work in the bathroom and the giant four-poster bed.

We were happy and contented when we settled into bed that night after more wine and a soak in the big tub. No ghosts came out despite the fact that we were in one of the supposedly haunted rooms, although I woke up several times during the night to every little bump or creak. The next morning we walked around the grounds, which are decently sized, but unfortunately abut more sheep pastures. I was totally sick of sheep by this time.

Rowton Castle is a great hotel and highly recommended as both comfortable and affordable, with excellent service and good food.

Mid-morning we drove back to London via Birmingham. We had originally intended to stop and check out Birmingham for the afternoon. However, driving through, it was so industrial and inhospitable looking that we both agreed instantaneously to skip it. We got back to London by early afternoon.