Paranormal and strange experiences in my life

So we both climbed over a fence into a field where there were a group of trees and what appeared to be some form of ancient earthwork like a long barrow. We put the tent up and bedded down for the night in our sleeping bags. I didn't say anything to Janice about the place we were on looking like an ancient burial mound because I thought it might scare her and she suffered with insomnia anyway.

Next thing I knew, I woke up and could hear horses neighing and people talking but I couldn't understand a word they were saying. It sounded like no language I knew. They sounded as if they were right outside the tent and even as if they were in it. It was really weird and seemed like invisible people on horses were coming right through where we were sleeping or trying to.

I couldn't see anything in the dark anyway and concluded they must be spirits who were from the mound we were camped on. Janice had some Mogadon sleeping tablets in her bag and feeling very awake but knowing there was little I could do about the situation and not wanting to disturb Jan I took one of her tablets and eventually drifted back off to sleep.

When I woke again it was morning and getting light. Janice was already awake and she said she had had a terrible night.

What was the matter? I asked her. "I thought you had got off to sleep fine?" I said.

"Well, I did," she answered, " and this is going to sound crazy but I was woken up by what sounded like horses and people, and they sounded like they were right here, and it was really scary, and there was no way I could get back to sleep after that."

I confessed that I had heard them too and thought they must be spirits and I told her to come and have a look outside the tent at what we were camped on. The moral of the story being don't sleep on ancient earthworks and mounds unless you don't mind being disturbed by ghosts from the ancient past.

Another hitch-hiking experience I had was also in West Wales but it happened a few years before I knew Janice and had been travelling around with my friend Steve, who was the person who had heard the "hummadruz" in the London squat as well as me. We had been dropped in the village of St Clears in Carmarthenshire and having been forced to give up trying to get a lift were looking around for somewhere we could shelter and sleep rough for the night.

We found an old derelict farmhouse and went inside. There were steps going up into some sort of loft area and I thought it would be a good idea to go up there so with torch in hand and switched on I began to climb upwards.

However, when I got to a certain step my torch went off and it all went very cold.

"Steve," I said this is really weird. My torch just went out when I went to go past the next step but if I move it back it comes back on again."

"This is no time to be mucking about,"he replied. "I want to find somewhere to crash."

"Well, if you don't believe me, you try it," I said and stepping down I handed him the torch.

He did try climbing up, and found that exactly the same thing happened. It was as if something didn't want us going up into the attic above and was going to switch off what light we had to make sure we couldn't see. We were both too freaked out by the experience to want to spend the night in the building and went back out on the road to have another bash at thumbing a lift from any early morning traffic that happened our way.