A birthday weekend in England’s Most Haunted Village probably isn’t everybody’s idea of a romantic getaway, but for us it was the perfect choice.

Ghost mum and dad recently escaped to Pluckley for the night, trading my wild Whitby for his green fields of Kent. Work meant we only had one night away, but in some ways that suited Pluckley perfectly: arrive in the fog, warm up with a tipple in the pub, wander the quiet lanes after dark, then retreat somewhere cosy before the atmosphere fully lifts the following morning.

We arrived just before 3pm, making it into The Dering Arms moments before they closed up for the afternoon, and were cheerfully informed that we would have the place entirely to ourselves for the night “apart from all the ghosts” — admittedly not everybody’s idea of reassuring accommodation information, but very much ours.

We spent the afternoon revisiting some of the locations tied to the village’s many ghostly legends, eventually ending up at the Black Horse for a haunted pint or two before walking back through spectral orchards, darkened fields, and pitch-black ghost roads. Out of all the local stories, I still think the one that lingers with me most is the White Lady, said to haunt St Nicholas Church. According to local folklore, she was buried inside seven coffins and an oak sarcophagus to preserve her beauty. Centuries later, she is still said to wander the churchyard after dark. Honestly, I probably would too.

It was a 10/10 haunted Brigadoon experience, even if the only spirits we encountered this time were in the form of a pint in the pub.