Haunted Pub Crawl - North Wales: The Star Inn & The Goat Inn

Hey all, thanks for joining me for this latest episode of our haunted pub

room. We're still in Wales and we're in the north this time. Just me tonight,

and I'll be covering off two pubs, the star in and the goat in. Hope you're

enjoying this revisit to our pub crawl. If you are, please drop us a

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really helps us. So now let's move in to the first pub. And this time I'm going to

be talking about the star in. Now this pub is in north Wales this time. We

were down south before and the historic market town of Ruthen,

standing inside a pub that has been serving ale since 1639.

This is the star in a grade two listed building that has watched nearly four

centuries of Welsh history pass through its doors,

low beams, thick stone walls, uneven floors, the kind of place that feels like it

remembers things. But what makes this pub different

is just not its age, it's what stands directly opposite it.

Across the road is Ruthen jail, a former prison that operated

from the 1600s until 1916. Men, women and even children winged

carcerated there. Punishments were brutal by modern standards and in at least

one documented case final. In 1903 a man named William Hughes was

hanged at the jail for the murder of his wife. That execution is a matter of

record, not legends, not folklore, but printed in newspapers and

preserved in legal archives. When you sit in the star in the

front room and look out of the window, you are looking straight at a place

that held suffering, violence and death for centuries.

Now here's where it shifts from history to something harder to explain.

Recently the pub has made national headlines when the landlady captured

a photograph inside the bar that many believe shows the supernatural

presence. In the image, and I'll pop it up on the screen now,

behind some customers, there appears to be a swirling

mislight formation. It isn't a clean human figure,

it isn't a clear face. It's more like a dense, smoky distortion darker

than it's around an hour, although it's almost like a white smoke.

With what some observers claim resembles a vague facial shape forming within it.

Others describe it as horned, others have called it shadow manifesting

out of nothing. Skeptics argue it could be

lighting, compression artefact, smoke or lens reflection,

believers say the density and shape are too deliberate.

But what makes this image compelling isn't just a visual anomaly,

it's the fact that it was taken by somebody works there in a location

already known locally for strange activity. It wasn't the stage ghost hunt,

it was a normal night in a pub that has seen 380 years of human emotion.

Following the photo, a formal power and almost investigation team

visited the star in. During their time inside, they reported unexplained

flickering lights despite no identified electrical fault.

EMF meters allegedly spiked without obvious source.

In the spirit box session, when asked who was present,

a voice reportedly came through saying, I am horrible.

That phrase alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Whether you believe in spirit communication or think is

parodolia in radio noises, but it doesn't end there.

Staff have spoken about cold spots that don't

split, stay in one place, but seem to move across rooms.

Glassware is fallen from shells without contact.

Patrons have described a distinct sensation of someone standing directly

behind them, close enough to feel. Only to turn and find nothing there,

not a vague atmosphere of presence.

And this is where the theory becomes interesting.

Is the star in haunted in its own right?

Or is it absorbing something from across the street?

Ruth and Jail house prisoners are waiting execution to help people

at their lowest points. Fear, regret, anger, despair.

If you subscribe to the idea that places can imprint

emotional energy, then a prison operating for over 250 years

would be saturated with it. And the star in has stood opposite that energy

since the 17th century. Some believe spirit prefer warmth,

light and human presence, not cold empty cells.

If someone lingered, would it remain in the jail?

Or cross the road to a pub where laughter, conversation,

and life continue night after night?

The mist image is what brought national attention,

but the ongoing reports are what sustain the legend.

And whether you view it as residual energy, intelligent haunting,

environmental contamination from a historically traumatic site.

Or simply a trick of the light, there is something

undeniably heavy about drinking in a place that has overlooked

centuries of justice, punishment and final moments.

So tonight, as we raise a glass in the star in, ask yourself this.

When you feel someone watching, is it just the atmosphere of history?

Or is there something here that never quite checked out?

So now we head deep to the half-snodonia to a village that

already feels like it belongs to legend, nestled between mountain

rivers and dense woodland, lies bedgillert.

A famous place for one of Wales's most tragic stories,

the tale of Gellert, the faithful dog, but just the short work

from that legendary grave sits another place steeped in history and mystery.

The goat inn. The goat inn is stood in this village since the 18th century,

originally operating as a coach in him for travellers

crossing the rugged mountain routes of north Wales.

In those days, the journey through Snowdoni was not an easy one,

roads were rough, weather could turn in minutes,

and travellers often arrived exhausted, cold and sometimes injured.

Inns like this were not just pubs, they were safe havens,

a place to warm up beside the fire, take shelter from storms and rest

before continuing the journey through the mountains.

But places that see centuries of travellers also collect centuries of stories.

Over the years, guests and staff at the goat inn have reported a number of strange

experiences, many of which seem to centre around the pubs main fireplace.

Several witnesses have described seeing a man standing near the half

late at night. A figure is usually described as tall,

dressed in dark clothing and completely silent.

What makes these sightings unsettling is that the figure

appears solid at first, almost like a regular person standing by the fire.

Until the witness looks again and realises that nobody else should be there.

In some cases the figure is simply furnished.

One staff member reportedly described walking through the bar after closing time

and seeing what they thought was a guest standing quietly by the fireplace,

assuming someone had wandered in late, they turned away for a moment to check

behind the bar. When they look back, the man was gone,

no sound of footsteps, no door opening, nothing.

The activity isn't limited to the bar either, guests standing in the room above the pub

have reported here in footsteps moving slowly along the corridor layer night.

The footsteps that are often described as deliberate, almost like someone pacing.

In several accounts, the footsteps have stopped directly outside the bedroom door,

close enough for guests to feel as though someone is standing there on the other side.

There were also reports of cold patches forming in certain areas of upstairs hallway,

guests walking down the corridor have described suddenly stepping into a pocket of cold air

that seems completely out of place in an otherwise worn building.

Sometimes the chill appears to move as though whatever is causing it isn't staying in place.

And when you consider the history of the location is easy to see why these stories have grown over

the years, the pub has stood through centuries of travellers, storms, celebrations, arguments,

and quiet nights in the mountains, thousands of people have passed through its doors,

each bringing their own stories, emotions and experiences with them.

In places like Snowdonia where the landscape itself feels ancient and powerful,

the line between creaking building, history and folklore can sometimes blur.

Are these sighting simply tricks of the mind or an old building creaking?

Or is it the atmosphere of centuries old in playing with our expectations?

Or could something from the past still linger in the warmth of the fireplace long after the

travellers it once served have gone? Whatever the explanation that go in remains one of those places

where history feels close, perhaps a little closer than you might expect when you sit down to drink

by the fire. So if you ever find yourself in big alert, raise a glass in this coaching in,

just remember, if you catch someone standing quietly by the fireplace, it might just not be another