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and what better way to find out

than to stay there myself.

My decision was pretty much cemented the following

morning as I checked the mailbox. Paul had slipped in a post-

card of the beautiful homestead, together with a Cliffside bro-chure. It was even more breathtaking than I’d expected.

And whilst I haven’t quite built up the courage to pick up

the phone and book myself a room, I have no doubt that I

eventually will. Especially since there is an old song urging me to do so, by playing itself over and over in my head; the hauntingly beautiful Smoke Gets In Your Eyes …

chapter twenty-five

N e w N o r c i a

The town of New Norcia feels as though it’s in the middle of

nowhere. Small yet striking, it is little more than a few buildings on a lonely stretch of northbound highway. It was settled by Spanish Benedictine monks in 1847, and has the distinction

of being Australia’s only monastic town.

What the town lacks in size, it more than makes up for

with the grandiosity of its buildings; they are the opposite of what one would expect to find nestled in the Australian bush.

They are majestic, Spanish-style monoliths, dominating a land-

scape of barren scrub. There is also a sprawling old cemetery; its headstones rising up from the parched, red earth.

New Norcia’s history is rich and varied, having served many

purposes over its one hundred and sixty five years. As well as housing the monastery, it has in turn served as a mission, a

boarding school and most recently, a place of spiritual retreat.

It was during its incarnation as a boarding school that my friend Liz’s ghostly encounter took place.

219

220New Norcia

I met with up with Liz for a lunch date, as she knew I’d

recently returned from a trip to New Norcia and she was keen

to compare notes. The children and I had driven there for a

day trip just a fortnight earlier.

The first thing which struck us about New Norcia was the

beauty of its buildings, followed almost immediately by the

feeling of isolation. There is no main street and other than a service station which sells fuel and the bare necessities, there are no shops to speak of. Other than the five of us, the streets were empty. The children asked if we had come to a ghost

town.

We edged our way to the grand hotel, originally built to

accommodate the parents of the boarders at the College.

There wasn’t a soul to be seen, nor a sign to announce that this was indeed the town’s hotel. At first we weren’t even sure if

we were permitted to pass its threshold. The Latin word Salve engraved into the tiles beneath our feet was the only clue; a

subtle but reassuring welcome.

Before we went inside, I took photos of the children on the

hotel’s stone staircase. The spirit presences were palpable and I wondered whether I would be able to photograph any orbs.

It was only later that evening as I downloaded the photos that I realized I’d captured more than I had hoped for. It appeared that a black-robed figure was hurling itself off the upstairs balcony; it’s body defined by a fuzzy blackness. It was surrounded by an aura of pale luminescent light; my first thought being

that it was the ghost of a monk!

Unable to be sure of what I’d captured, I decided to post

the photo on my Facebook page. I was keen to get some out-

side opinions on the ghostly apparition. Of course there were

New Norcia 221

some who presumed I had somehow tampered with the

photo, whose ill-founded comments I instantly dismissed!

Others commented on the famous ghosts of New Norcia,

which until then I had been unaware of. They spoke of The Blue Nun and a ghostly monk; both of whom were reported to show themselves with reasonable regularity.

Her recollections spurred by seeing my strange photo-

graph, Liz was eager to share her experiences of New Norcia

and its ghosts.

Liz admits she was a typical teenage tearaway; an irrepress-

ible livewire who seemed to have her parents frequently on

edge. In addition to a healthy dose of defiance, the final straw came when young Lizzie found herself a boyfriend. Despite

being only thirteen, she began seeing an eighteen year old. To make matters worse, she had also started socialising with an

unsavoury group of friends.

Her parents were of course mortified and at a loss as to

what they should do. The headstrong Lizzie refused to end her

new-found love affair, so before she knew it, she was shipped

off to boarding school in New Norcia. Her parents reasoned

that as well as protecting her from the clutches of her much

older boyfriend, Lizzie would be shielded from the negative

influence of her rebellious friends. All the while she would be receiving a solid education whilst nurturing her Roman Catholic faith.

As it turned out, it was the best decision possible. Once she’d settled in, Lizzie thrived in her new environment and the long-distance boyfriend was soon forgotten. Her years at New Norcia were to provide her with a solid foundation to last throughout her life. And indeed even through her adult years, Liz would

222New Norcia

occasionally go and stay at the Monastery, particularly when life wasn’t travelling smoothly and she needed some respite.

Liz tells me that she and her fellow students were always

aware of New Norcia’s ghosts. So much so that she and a few

friends decided to try and contact the spirits they were con-

vinced they shared their school with.

Over the course of several days, the girls carefully con-

structed a Ouija Board. They hid it away under one of their beds until it was ready. The girls were well aware that should their project be discovered, they would be in all manner of trouble.

As Roman Catholics they were committing a cardinal sin; they

were summoning up the dead, or worse.

But the thrill of their clandestine project outweighed their

concerns, and the girls secretly worked on their creation whenever they had spare time. It wasn’t long before the Ouija board was

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