Surviving Heretic - Haunted House

Surviving Heretic - Haunted House

Haunted attractions are rapidly becoming my thing. That is not to say that I started off intending to be a shadow addict...but here I am. The truth is that for a period of about six years I couldn't watch anything even remotely scary. Not since the remake of the Dawn on the Dead gave me a phobia and turned me into a big scaredy cat. Imagine my grown self having to give herself a pep talk when getting out of the car at night because some part of me was afraid of a zombie hiding underneath the car. Not my proudest moment I can tell you. But somehow the power of my imagination has lessened a bit and I find myself loving the scary scene. My big problem is that I tend to giggle my way through anything remotely frightening which kind of lessens the scare power of any attraction. So where in the world could I go that might actually give me a jolt of terror?

The answer to this question was in the brilliant mind of Adrian Marcato's Heretic, a haunted house on steroids. This isn't your typical "jump out and scream boo" type of haunt. Heretic is a dark adventure where the inhabitants can grab you, rough you up and wring a scream out of you. So who in the world would want to undergo such an experience? Insert image of me jumping up and down like a little kid wildly waving her arms in the air. What can I say? In the last few months I've developed a give-me-what-you've-got type of attitude. Adrian's crew lives to please.

So what is Heretic? It's actually a series of haunted houses that Adrian has been putting on. One where you can only gain admittance by making a reservation. Once inside, the participants get a chance to develop into the story, discovering with each new addition you attend just how dark the imagination can truly get. This particular episode revolved around a cult obsessed with pain, sex and madness. If you want to get a peak at what devious adventures he is developing for the future follow the link. It's a trip well worth it.

Heretic - Haunted House

After seeing what they had to offer I knew this was one haunt I had to review. Reservation in hand I got in my car and drove the six hour and change drive to L.A. in the evening after working a full shift. Actually this is where my adventure truly starts.

You all know how I tend to be big innocent...yeah yeah I know that sounds strange, but it's the truth.  Along with that innocence comes what my friend, Debbie, likes to call an injustice button. If I see a fight happening that seems unfair, you can bet that I'm going to jump in and even the score. Most of the time this is a nice thing, most of the time it's also not a physical fight. This time I almost got my tail handed to me, by the person I was defending.

A couple of hours into the journey, I stopped at a Santa Nella gas station to grab a Coke. I was driving late in the evening and I not only was craving the dastardly beverage, but also needed a jolt of caffeine to keep me awake in the dark warm silence of my car. As I came out of the store I saw a man dragging his crying female companion by the arm over to their truck and I felt my injustice button punch in. He was shaking her like a rag doll and you could see that he intended to show her the worse parts of his character. What the hell? She's crying jerkface and you're throwing her around? I found myself over by the couple as if by magic, where I demanded that he stop. He, being a woman-hitting pig, ignored me. Until I called the size of his manhood into question of course. Loudly and fervently. True to form he backhanded me, like a weak little girl might I add. Note about me, I'm a black belt. What? With as much trouble as I seem to attract that's a necessary skill!

Anyhow after he slapped me, I introduced him to a good old fashioned knee in the groin. This is the point where I intended to give him a lecture about treating a lady with respect....when his girlfriend launched herself at me screaming like a banshee! Apparently beating up her boyfriend for beating her up is on her no-no list. Having no desire to fight the woman who had momentarily before been a damsel in distress, I disengaged from the fight and got the hell out of there. I stopped a little while later to relay the experience to my usual Adventuring team, who are now called the Noisy Bastards (because they keep both Matt and my neighbors up on game nights)....and my buddy Casey reminded me firmly that I should mind my own business. Eh, if someone looks like they need help I'm going to help them end of story.

Hours later, I arrived at my hotel, exhausted and only slightly the worse for wear from my tussle with la grande douleur dans mon cul. I was booked for the first night of my Adventure into the Historic Mayfair Hotel in downtown L.A. This nineteen twenties creation is supposed to be one of the grand dames of old Hollywood culture. Where the golden age actors celebrated after the very first Academy Awards. Times have changed sweetheart. Times have changed.

The first thing I was confronted with was that most of the letters of the sign were burned out, which gave the building a faint Tower of Terror type ambiance. Okey dokey, that's really just a small thing. It happens to the best of places. Except that this was just the tip of the iceberg. Not only did I have to drag my exhausted rear end multiple times to the front desk to get a working key....where the snippy front desk blamed my cell phone for demagnetizing the key. By the way, I did some fact checking on that statement and it's a load of bull. Scratches or bends on the card are what cause the strips on the back on the card not to work. Cell phones are not the culprit. The room I paid over a hundred and twenty dollars a night for was tiny, filthy and in possession of a used freaking condom in the shower. This is not the Great Horror Campout People. YUCK. I think the part that bothered me the most however, was that they were shooting a porn on the other side of my wall. Beyond the fact that I'm a blushing maid at the ripe old age of thirty two, hearing a woman get cut off in the middle of an "orgasm" and then five minutes later pick right back up where she left off is beyond not natural. It's just plain disturbing.

The next morning I made my way down to the breakfast that had come with my stay....something I was worried about but in the end was safe enough. Can't go wrong with a box of dry frosted flakes. I don't put milk in my cereal anyway so that was fine by me. In the ten minutes it took me to walk down to the bottom floor and then back to my room on the fifth floor the darned key decided that it didn't want to work again. Grumbling I made my way back down to the lobby, to get another lecture from the snippy woman, and then back up to room. To discover that the stupid key STILL DIDN'T WORK. Luckily one of the cleaning ladies, who was a real sweetheart, saw me on the verge of a nuclear moment and took pity on me and let me in. Bless you lady, bless you.

Checking out with relish I headed over to the second hotel on my list, the JJ Grand. As soon as I

drove up I took a sigh of relief. It was a large beautiful building nestled between a church and a large synagogue. I parked my car into valet and then spent a few minutes humming "One of These Things is Not Like the Other" to myself. Apparently the JJ Grand is located in Korea Town. Everyone in the building was Korean and needless to say that I am not. Despite the faint feeling of not fitting in, my hotel room was clean, large and well appointed. I would recommend this room any day of the week.

After checking in I made my way over to the secret location of Heretic Haunted House...sorry ladies and gentlemen, if you want to know where it is then you're going to have to make a reservation. Those are the rules.

I was going to be joining them several hours early so I could interview the cast and crew as well as get a feel for what it takes to get this show operational. Upon arriving, I did my usual pep talk of not being shy and headed into the building. Right off the bat I felt right at home. This is a fantastic group of people and they did everything in their power to make me feel like I wasn't a nuisance as I followed them around with my camera and asked them my questions. I have discovered that I have a wholly separate voice for when I do interviews which amuses me to no end.

I asked Adrian how this idea came into fruition and he explained to me that he began working as a monster in haunts after attending them for years. The first to be added to his credits was Knott's Scary Farm, where he worked for four years in various positions and monster roles. After that, special effects make-up began to take over most of his time and his first feature was as key make-up artist for the Black Dahlia Haunting. From there he worked film after film, including titles like Hatchet 3 and VHS 3. The idea for Heretic came from a tragic true story from his past. A friend of his was murdered and mutilated with strange symbols carved into the body. After that he began writing scenes and developing his ideas. He even experimented on himself by having three friends abuse him psychically to make sure that his ideas could provoke the right response.

Sharing the helm of creating Adrian's darkest dreams are his creating partner Jess and right-hand-man
Matt Rosvally. Jess is the wardrobe and sound mistress for Heretic, and helps to mold the characters into something truly terrifying. She initially studied special effects and screenwriting in San Diego and her talents have helped shape the attraction to its terrifying zenith. She has written three short films including Dream of Hell, which was her big break. She has a wonderful mind for fashion and crafting the atmosphere of fright. She also has a knack for adding in some of the more "dented bits" that make up the disturbing environment.

Matt is rather like me with his list of job titles. He is a director, writer, actor, magician, producer, special effects artist and occasional grave digger. In 1998, he joined the Society of American Magicians under the guidance of veteran illusionists Bill Andrews and Peter White. For six years, he trained as an actor at the Neighborhood Playhouse and the Professional Performing Arts School in New York City. He performed in a variety of Off-Broadway shows including Neil Simon’s The Good Doctor and Sam Shephard’s True West.

 In 2005, he attended the film course at the New York Film Academy, leaving with his first short movie titled Safety Net. In 2009, Matt graduated Full Sail University with a Bachelors Degree. After graduation, Matt worked as an intern for Producer Frida Torresblanco of Pan’s Labyrinth notoriety. In 2010, Matt shot the award winning short documentary, Manhattan’s Monster, about New York horror performance artist Sammy Mena. Shortly afterward, Matt moved to Hollywood, where he has set up shop for his Production Company, Sepulture Productions. Under the Sepulture Productions banner, he has produced the award winning web series Horror Show Theater and co-produced the underground horror simulation Heretic. Season one of Horror Show Theater can be watched in full on the Sepulture Productions YouTube Page, Sepulture Productions, which I have included the link for.

Sepulture Productions

There was one last scare master that helped to shape the moments designed to break you out of reality and shove you head first into the story. His own story will be left in the shadow of mystery but I will share what I can. John Granillo was the baddie who followed you from the moment you were pushed into the scene until the moment they released you. Under his tutelage the scene became more intense and drastically more terrifying. He also has no qualms about literally throwing you around. He wasn't satisfied until both he and his victim were covered in blood. Watching him in action was really quite awesome. We also shared a moment of "Hey Where Do I Know You From" right from the get go although we never were able to figure out where that feeling came from. If anyone can solve the mystery fill me in. It's still driving me nuts.

I had a blast following around the actors and actresses who were involved in this haunt, my favorite being Mel Turner who allowed me to follow her from the moment she sat in the make up chair until she was deep in character. For the record, her make up artist is none other than the extremely talented Naomi Mua who did Rams incredible make up for the Great Horror Campout. If Mel looks familiar it may be because she played in House of Manson. She's also a world class sweetheart and I loved talking with her.


I wandered around for a few hours and took buckets of pictures, including ones that had me blushing for inexplicable reasons. I even had to text message Colleen at one point and remark that I didn't know where to look. She laughed and told me to look at what was presented and that yes she was challenging me to do so. Damn it. Challenge accepted. It's not that I am ashamed of the human body....it's that I'm a world class dork. I blush, I stammer and then blush some more. You must excuse me for that. But I digress as usual.

After forcing myself not to look away from my new scantily clad friends, I headed out to yet another scary white van....what is it about white vans? This one was a minivan version however and not so ominous as it's hauling counterpart. As I left, I smiled sweetly at Adrian and told him to hit me with the best they had. They drove me over to the starting point and I sat on a stone wall and waited patiently. It wasn't long before they invited me back into the van so I could experience a kind of macabre tour that would lead me to all the places where violent, sexual, and occult related murders had occurred. My tour guide started off jovial and even rather fumblingly sweet, very concerned that I was properly secured with my seat belt. So concerned that he ended up in my lap at one point. I bet you know what I was doing. If you said blushing and starting to giggle you hit the nail on the head.

Eventually we stopped and I found myself sandwiched between both my guide and the driver as one tried to goad me forward and the other attempted to warn me off from my quest with the ominous warning that they intended to rape and murder me. Scary stuff. I found myself walking away from the pair of them, heading toward the building with the driver's ominous last words following me in the darkness. "I warned you."

Regardless I walked to the front door, giggling like a loon the whole time. The gate keeper pounded on the door and two people immediately jumped out and covered my eyes with a scarf. They led me into the building and then shoved me bodily into another room where I was greeted by an older gentleman dressed in a suit. The sterile environment couldn't have reminded me less of a funeral home but somehow funeral director came and stayed in my mind. Hmmmm, well that's a bit creepy. The man led me over to a pair of metal folding chairs and began to ask me the most skin crawling interview questions I've ever experienced. He invited me to close my eyes and when I did I heard him get up and leave the area I was in. Instantly I felt claws crawl across the back on my neck and found myself getting bullied around by an unseen person. I opened my eyes just as an arm wrapped itself around my neck and around my waist and hauled me out of my chair. Instinct demanded that I raise my hands to the arm around my throat but I was careful not to fight back. The man dragged me backwards into another part of the room where he threw me to the ground and then forced me to my back while he began to wipe bloody hands down my body. I found myself curling up trying to get away from the touch but still giggling wildly the whole time. I discovered later that I had bloody handprints in some interesting places. I was left to ask myself...when the hell did that happen??

Then he dragged me up and sat me down on another chair, where a very muscled figured came out

and stood before me. A muscled figure wearing very little clothing. Despite my best efforts I think I was giggling in a very solid stream by this point. Where the hell do I look? Before I could dwell on this too much he had grabbed my hands and fastened them into a pair of rather strange leather cuffs. I couldn't help but wonder why handcuffs had a belt on the top. My first thought is that if this was a real situation I could just grab the belt with my teeth and unfasten myself. Well at least I could have before he shoved a metal device between my teeth which forced my mouth open. The other Noisy Bastards have since advised me that they call this device a lip spreader, which they all laughed at when I told them about it upon my return home. They have to explain stuff like this all the time. I've gotten to the point that if I have to ask I pretty much know it's sexual in nature. 

Anyway, nothing says vulnerable like having said device keep you from closing your mouth as a man inserts objects, that were never meant to be in your mouth, through the hole. Things like a knife and a skinny pair of scissors. When I felt the metal click against my teeth I found myself biting on that damn thing like my life depended on it. Well played Heretic, well played.

Then the strong man picked me up in his arms, which of course had me protesting through the gag that he was going to hurt his back. Leave it to me to worry about my torturer's well being. He carried me towards the back of the room and strapped me onto one of those gravity chairs where they flip you upside down. Oh crud, this doesn't bode well. And of course it doesn't as a young man bearing a baseball bat and another man wearing a skin mask walk in and immediately flip me over. Eep. They began the creepy tasks of cutting my hair and shaving my eyebrows off my face which of course....leaves me giggling. Just as I was left to wonder if I had any hair left on my head, the delightful Mel ran into the room and demanded that they let me go. She unstrapped me from the chair and led me out into an alley. She also released me from the dreadful metal contraption that was making me blush for no reason what so ever. Bless you Mel. Bless you.

Her character which started off so warm and caring soon devolved into something darker and far more scary. Suddenly my savior was an angry drunk who wondered whether or not I was in league with the cult members who had apparently hurt her daughter in the past. She grabbed me roughly and led me over to another doorway where she turned me around by my shoulders so my back was to the door.

Suddenly I felt myself being grabbed again and hauled back into a dark room which was full to bursting with fog. The man hauled me roughly toward the back of

the room where he eventually threw me to the ground. He was covered in blood and I found myself confronting a man wearing a terrifying dog like mask through the haze. The mist was full of other people as well, most of them scantily dressed and drenched in blood. They began to crowd my space and I found myself bounced around from person to person. Eventually a woman wearing only the briefest of lingerie separated herself from the group and leapt upon me to knock me to the floor, straddle me and hold my arms above my head. She shrieked in my face that I couldn't stop what she was going to do to me. I had to wonder what the heck that was going to be when suddenly I was being yanked to my feet and ejected from the room.

I was met back in the ally by Matt....and the journey was over. I had survived! Of course I giggled my way madly through the entire event but it was certainly unnerving. Especially the fog. There is something about only just being able to see your attacker through a curtain of gloom that really sets in the nightmare. Now that was a blast.

I spent the rest of the night hiding in the fog taking pictures of the other victims and watching how they crafted each new encounter to become even more terrifying. By the end of the night I was thoroughly impressed by not only John, Matt, and Mel, but also the amazing Katt Balsan who played the beautiful woman in the mist. She's also as friendly as they get and gives great hugs. Between Katt, the fabulous Thin Man, and Noel Scott who I have discovered does some amazing make up work and gives some awesome camera advise in tough shot situations (Thank you Noel!), I felt completely at ease with the cast.

I will say that my giggling through the attraction was an anomaly. Throughout the night, I witnessed one woman have to use the safe word because she became too frightened, one man pee his pants, and most people gasp their way through the experience in living terror.

You know, I think I'm going to have to initiate a challenge to the haunt world to find a way to scare me to where I stop giggling. Hmmmm....challenge issued!

I have been invited to one of their next extreme attractions, Midnight Killer, in November and I look forward to seeing the terrifying product of Adrian's dark mind.

On to the next Adventure.

A Day at the Winchester Mystery House

A Day at the Winchester Mystery House

If there is one thing that I love, it's a good mystery. So what better way to close a three day journey that started off in my hometown of Folsom, went through San Francisco and ended up in San Jose, than with a trip to one of the most mysterious homes on the planet. The Winchester Mystery House.

My sister in law, Colleen Douglas, and I didn't originally intend to visit San Jose when we were planning our adventure. We had planned to go to San Francisco only but we hadn't been driving more than twenty minutes when the topic of the Winchester mansion came up. I have always wanted to see it but somehow have just never found my way down to San Jose. Before I knew it Colleen had booked a room at a hotel near the mansion that included tickets for the attraction.

If you haven't read my account of the first two parts of our San Francisco adventure please feel free to click the following link if you would like to follow along.

A Walk Through Madame Tussauds San Francisco

The first two days of our journey were awesome. We became gluttons of amazing seafood, wandered the dark halls of the San Francisco Dungeons, meandered through Madame Tussauds, scared ourselves silly with some zombies and did some shopping in China town....although I still hadn't found myself a mascot. Why is it always so hard to find something small? As we drove out of San Francisco I let my mind wander to where we were going. I remember the first time that I heard about the Winchester house and how it intrigued my twelve year old mind.

For those of you who don't know my history let me give you a quick peek at my past. I was raised by my grandparents, two of the most amazing compassionate people who ever walked the earth. I lost my grandfather fourteen years ago and my Grams barely three years past. My grandmother and I especially shared a strong bond, and if there was something that she liked well then I liked it too. Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman? Yup. The New Adventures of Superman? You betcha. Well one of the television channels she liked was A&E and they did a special on Sarah Winchester when I was still in my preteen years. Her story was so spooky, lonely and sad that my twelve year old heart went out to her. I understand how it feels to be bitterly hurt and alone, and still feel the need to hide yourself away even as it leads you away from people. Vicious cycle really.

Sarah Lockwood Winchester is a bit of a mystery herself unto herself. There are few documents in existence that can tell us much about who she was, or what she was thinking. Even documentation of her actual birth is sketchy, leaving us a ten year gap that she may have been born. One thing that can be noted about her is that she was a prodigy, speaking multiple languages by the time she was twelve and being an accomplished musician.

She was a beautiful woman in her heyday and was known as the Belle of New Haven. Eventually she married William Wirt Winchester and they had a little girl named Annie. Unfortunately the child suffered from a rare genetic disease called Marasmus which leaves the body unable to metabolize proteins. For forty agonizing days she watched her little girl starve before finally succumbing to death. She couldn't bear the risk of having to suffer such pain again and they never had another child. When she lost her husband to tuberculosis in 1880 she allowed herself to be consumed by depression.

The folklore around her story insists that this is the time she met with a famous Boston medium who told her that she must travel to California and begin construction on a house. On the day that construction concluded she would die. That being said she moved to California, bought an eight room farm house and began construction based on instructions that were given to her nightly by the ghosts she summoned during midnight séances. A very spooky story told to each of the guest by the tour guides and backed up by many television shows, books and pamphlets. I mean what other reason would she have to build a staircase to nowhere or a skylight in the middle of her floor? I was curious so I began my own research.

There is a different, and far less salacious, theory that I read that I
think makes a lot of sense. Sarah was born  and raised in New Haven Connecticut, home of Yale University. She went to a prestigious school where she was taught history, math and the sciences in a time where many woman still were not guaranteed to be taught to read. She was taught by teachers who were famous Rosicrucian theorists, with a curriculum rich in  symbology. When her husband died, she even went on a grand tour of Europe which included places like Scotland's Rosslyn Chapel, which has its very own staircase to nowhere. So if not directed by spirits why would she move to California? Well it might have been due to the high number of her Pardee relatives that lived in the area, one who would rise to become the Governor of California.

So why then would she build her mansion unending for thirty eight years, coupled with dozens of items build around symbology and numbers? I suppose the truth is that we may never know. Whether it's because she spoke to spirits or was a genius who was obsessed with numbers, symbols and the works of Francis Bacon, the house has captured the imaginations of all who have come there.

On our way to this fantastical house, Colleen and I checked into the hotel that had run the promotion. We were staying at the San Jose Airport Gardens, which was supposed to be a three star hotel. Now you may remember that I have said before that what constitutes a three star rating seems to vary by place to place. You should also remember that being critical is not really in my nature...which I suppose is kind of funny considering that I am a reviewer. That being said this place was a pit. A very large pit, but a filthy, poorly maintained, misnamed pit all the same. My first statement must address the fact that the hotel is misnamed. Although you may have a few scraggly roses and a large fence of oleander bushes, if you advertise that you have acres of gardens then please have them. A oleander bush is not a garden.

The second thing is that they didn't have any of the tickets that were advertised to come with the room. They had apparently been locked into a safe that no one had the code to...okey dokey. A bit disgruntled we made our way to our assigned building to discover one of the most frightful elevators I have ever been in. It was carpeted on every available surface and groaned and strained to get to the second floor. Not awesome. Once inside of our room I discovered that the room was blatantly filthy, with the sheets on my bed being stained and covered in cigarette holes. I called down asked for more sheets and the one bright spot in the hotel answered the phone. The manager Carlos, was a very nice man and he ended up comping our room due to the horrible state that we found it as well as the lack of tickets.

My one last warning for this sub par hotel is to stay out of the hot tub. We wandered our way over there hoping to relax a little after the long drive to find it green, slimy and full of debris. Shudder.

Sarah might have made her way to the Santa Clara Valley, which used to be known as the Valley of the Hearts Delight, to find peace but since it's transition into San Jose I can honestly say that peace is not a word I would use for this area. It's noisy and roiling with people and energy. Colleen and I stopped at a Walmart to grab a few things and I quickly found myself on the verge of a panic attack when trying to make my way through the miasma of people who were too busy trying to get to where they were going to find time for manners. Not my scene.

Finally we made our way to the mansion itself and found that in the midst of all the chaos there is still a small piece of tranquility. The grounds and gardens have been restored to their former majesty and even standing in the shadow of urban monstrosities I felt myself giving in to the atmosphere and relaxing. After all the hype I came to this place expecting to feel a deeply spooky atmosphere....but what I discovered is that it's intensely peaceful here. I felt as if I had been invited to a friends home and there was no unease in walking the grounds at all. Although I there were times that felt extremely sad, especially where it was obvious that someone once took a great deal of joy in some such article or room. The stained glass windows for one. I could have stood in one place for the entire day and just soaked them in.

As we made out way into the building we found ourselves in one of the biggest and most varied gift shops I have ever been in. There was the usual assortment of made in China plastic junk but they also had a beautiful assortment of stained glass, and other handmade items that I had to stop and drool over. Add to that an abundance of spooky themed relics and I was happy to wander around blindly for about an hour or so. The only thing in the shop that did not suit my taste was the Almond Roca Wine they had in the corner. Ick.

They also have a charming Product Museum which includes a variety of items that were once made by the Winchester company. Truthfully I didn't know that the company made much more than guns or ammunition so it was a bit of a surprise to see a familiar old fashioned lawn mower among the displays. One of the ones that had a circle of whirling blades that would roll as you pushed it to reap the blades of grass. I saw that same implement hanging from my grandfathers garage wall most of my childhood, although we didn't have a blade of grass on the two acres of red clay I grew up on. They also had something in that museum that made my food loving heart dance with joy. A gigantic Winchester Mansion shaped gingerbread house. That takes some serious baking skills to make something like this. Joy!

From there we went to purchase our tickets and decided that we wanted to take not only the house tour but the garden tour as well. We did learn from the very helpful young man at the desk that we would not be able to take pictures on the inside of the house....cough cough. You may have notice a few at the front potion of this blog. I have no idea where those came from. Nice young man though. He even hammed it up for my camera. I love it when people do that.

The tour began with us stepping into a gigantic entry hall where Sarah would drive her carriage straight in so she didn't have to be subject to inclement weather. That alone would have made her unique in her time. Her designs included innovations from everything from the types of materials used in her home to ideas that helped save water in the drought stricken California Valley. That's a problem that reigns here to this day and I have to admit that some of her ideas could really be helpful during this years horrendous drought. She was a brilliant woman if a bit peculiar. She also built her home out of redwood, which is the only wood on the planet that is completely bug resistant. You'll find no termites crawling through these ornate halls.

From there we moved up her Easy Risers....which she designed to have steps only a few inches tall when her arthritis began to make movement a nightmare. I really, really loved these stairs. If ever I am forced to live in a second story house again I might just have to borrow this idea for when my own arthritis attempts to hijack my life. We moved into the twenty five thousand dollar store room....an amount calculated on the day of her death so you can imagine what it's worth now. The materials here are those that she had waiting to be used on the day she left this realm, and here they have remained. This includes some of the most amazing one of a kind Tiffany glass windows I can imagine. That strikes me as part of the sadness of the house. All these beautiful things that will never be put to use.

From there we wandered through rooms that had many exits but only one opening, past the famous staircase to nowhere, viewed a music room that was built without a single nail and down the grand staircase. This is the type of home that I can understand people wanting to spend the rest of their lives in. Not the opulence, although it's beautiful and awe inspiring, but the feeling that there the house wants you there. There is something about this twisted labyrinth of a house that pulls at you. Even in it's mostly empty state you can still feel the call of home running through it's bones. A grand mansion that was only lived in for thirty eight years.

We made our way out in the garden for the tour and walked through the restored landscapes that make up part of the unlikely tranquility of the grounds. Most of the gardens and plants were destroyed by time and neglect after Sarah passed away. The only plants remaining that were in existence at the time of her passing are the palms that line the drive. Even they have a time limit because the climate in San Jose is not optimal for their health and they too will eventually wither away. The beautiful statues and fountains however are original and still standing in lonely splendor.

Yup, I wax poetic in places like this. No judgement.

As we came to the end of the gardens and very near the time we needed to get back on the highway so we could beat the traffic back to Folsom, I took a last look behind us and tried to see the estate the way the way it would have looked without all the modern building and back when it would have been surrounded by acres of orchards. I can see why she loved it here. Colleen and I have agreed that should the end of the world happen we will be driving here and taking up residence.

Returning to the gift shop we began to peruse for the last of the gifts on our gigantic gift list. For my
sake alone I have fourteen nieces and nephews to spoil. Plus, as you know, I've been on the look out for my new mascot. Well we scored a new Ouija board, a steampunkish "pocket" watch necklace, a set of voodoo doll cookie cutters,  a shell case shot glass for my brother in law and....stars and stones what is that over there???? I FOUND IT! A mascot! Whoo! Given that my favorite character whom I have reviewed so far has been The Great Horror Campouts Thirst, a bat like character with a taste for pea coats in July, what I found is perfect. It's a small stuffed bat with huge orange sparkly glass eyes. My daughters Natalie and Emily have named him Squeaky and he is all the rage at my house.

When I'm not traveling he lives on my desk organizer, staring at me and reminding me that while I am a developing consultant as a day job, that my real love is finding myself lost in these Adventures. So we wrapped up our three day journey and made our way back home, a few pounds heavier from the excellent food we gorged on, a few dollars the poorer for all the swag we carted off for our people, and happier for the chance to do it. The next time you find yourself out this way, take a cue from the spirits (or the Rosicrucian tomes) and come explore the labyrinthian walls of the Winchester Mystery House. I'm certainly glad we did.

On to the next Adventure!

A Walk Through Madame Tussauds San Francisco

A Walk Through Madame Tussauds San Francisco

As everyone who knows me will tell you, I love to travel.  Not just because I love to experience the sights, unfamiliar history, music, food and energy of a new world I'm exploring, but also because it gives me a chance to live as another person for just a moment. It's similar to acting in that while you are living out an adventure in a new place, you have no choice but to let go of your baggage and let yourself become a part of story that's being told. Live your own adventure, which can be harder than it sounds.

As a person who suffers from shyness this can be a trial, but I've discovered that when I am looking through the world through the lens of my camera the wild world looks less intimidating and comes into focus. I know, bad pun. What can I say? I love them. There was a time when puns were considered the height of social wit....granted that was over a hundred years ago but who am I to change a good thing.

A few weeks ago I traveled with my sister in law Colleen Douglas to the previously unexperienced city of San Francisco. We drove in late, ate WAY to much and walked through the San Francisco Dungeons. If you read my earlier review you may remember that we had purchased a bundled ticket which would allow us to walk through Madame Tussauds San Francisco. Unfortunately we spend so long in the Dungeon that Madam Tussauds was closed by the time we emerged from our dark journey. If you haven't read my earlier article, please feel to click below so you can follow along.

A Journey to the San Francisco Dungeon

As dawn broke over the second day of our adventure, Colleen and I looked at each other and wondered how it could be possible that we could be even the slightest bit hungry after the mountain of food we had consumed the night before. But it seems like the sea air was doing us some good, and we decided that we would walk from our hotel to the Buena Vista Café which Colleen assured me could not be missed. The café is a comfortable walk from the piers and when we first made our way up to the building I was a little startled because it wasn't what I expected from a café. It seemed to me that we were walking into a bar and not so much of a restaurant, for good reason I discovered. The long bar had stools all down the length of it and several tables where the culture of the shop demanded if a seat is empty it can be utilized by anyone. The seats were full on this Saturday morning and the atmosphere was electric and busy. Colleen and I commandeered a couple of the stools at the bar and set about testing out their finest cuisine.

I discovered that the Buena Vista Café is home to the first Irish Coffee in the United States. Jack Koeppler, an owner of the café back in the early fifties, had become obsessed with the beverage after drinking it at an airport in Shannon Ireland. Returning to San Francisco he worked tirelessly to replicate the beverage to no avail. It took many replications and a trip back to the airport in Shannon before the now infamous beverage had been recreated to his satisfaction. Besides the fabulous coffee you can also find some of the best Corned Beef Hash I have ever had in my entire life on the menu. Colleen and I shared an order and I wished very quickly that I had been a glutton and ordered a whole plate for myself.

Once we were finished we continued with our walk towards Ghirardelli square, a place I have never been but have dreamed of at times in my life. It's no secret that I dream in food and a picture of one of their chocolate sundaes has haunted for me years. Although I didn't end up purchasing one on this trip, I did get to look at it being made and fulfilling my need for good chocolate by filling up a bag with their indulgent chocolate squares. I discovered that their chocolate mint square now has a lot of competition if it wants to continue to be my favorite. From there we walked across the way to discover a store full of eclectic things with a name that delighted us. The store is called Lola of North Beach, and if anyone from my little circle is reading this then they know why we loved it so much.

 

Colleens mother, the amazing Marybeth, is a wonderful mother and Grandmother. Since we met she has opened her life, home and arms to my sisters, my children and myself. All the children in our brood call her Lola, unless you're my two years daughter Emmy of course, and then she's Yoya. Well since we had about a million presents to buy for everyone we decided that there couldn't be a better store to begin with. Since I was also still on the hunt for a new mascot it seemed like this might also be a great place to start. And what a start it was! I scored a bunch of neat little trinkets, but sadly didn't find anything that struck me as being mascot material. I do believe that I will need to hit their website to purchase the Santa hat wearing R2D2 light up statue for another of my dear friends Christmas present though. Actually I bet a couple of my friends would like that....but I'm digressing as usual.

We left the store carrying a couple of bags of odds and ends and made our way back to Pier 39. We had put a dent in our gift list but we still needed to do a little more shopping and also to attempt something that Colleen thought would be awfully amusing. A fact about me: I have a horrible phobia of zombies. I know that's kind of funny considering that my reviewing niche seems to lay on the spooky side of life, but there it is. They were never scary to me until I saw the Dawn of the Dead remake on a first date. For some reason that movie tripped some unknown button inside of me, and at the age of twenty five I found myself having terrible nightmares and experiencing some pretty awful anxiety. I would get off of one of my graveyard shifts having to tell myself to stop looking for zombies hiding in the shadows as I got out of my car to walk in the dark to my front door. It's been better since I binge watched the Walking Dead but they still give me the heebie jeebies. That being said what my dear sister in law wanted us to do was the 7D Experience, on the Zombie portion of the ride. Gulp.

What is the 7D Experience? It's an interactive ride that combines the ideals of a shooting gallery, roller coaster, and a 3D movie all into one package. They have several different scenarios that you can play through, as well as a laser maze that you can attempt if you deem yourself flexible enough to play our your Mission Impossible fantasy. If this sounds like something you would love then you should really check out their website.

7D Experience

Once inside the game of your choice, you strap into the special chair, put on your 3D glasses and take aim with your laser gun at the introductory targets on the screen preparing for the scenario you've decided to put yourself through. I did really well in this portion of the game, it kind of reminded me of an old SNES game I played as a kid called Tin Star. It was about an robot Sheriff in the old west. I loved that game and got to be really good at hitting the targets. Ah if only we had stopped there, I promised myself I wasn't going to freak out the moment the zombies came onto the screen. Sigh, best laid plans....

Literally the moment the first zombie came onto the screen and launched itself at my face I began to scream. I released a mixed stream of curse words and wordless shrieks into the atmosphere. The screaming wreaked havoc on my shooting ability and I found myself taking shots wildly at the screen instead of aiming. I also invariably shrieked "DIE DAMN YOU DIE!" as loud as I possibly could. So much for being cool. Wait, I'm never cool so forget that. What I really wanted to do was to leave the theater with at least a modicum of dignity.

When the game came to an end I realized that I had scored next to last. Not my proudest video game achievement. As I holstered my gun and got up to hand the waiting attendant my glasses, I realized that he couldn't look at me without giggling. That is when I remembered that at the front of the attraction there had been a gigantic television screen that showed everyone waiting all of the people who were on the ride. Which meant that everyone had seen me losing my mind like a lunatic. Sure enough as I ventured to look the man in the eyes he couldn't hold my gaze for more than a few seconds without beginning to chuckle. Crud. How bad was it? As I walked into the lobby I looked up at the display where they show your souvenir picture....and was promptly horrified. I was screaming like a lunatic alright.....and somehow vaguely looked like Eric Cartman. *Facepalm.

We continued walking around Pier 39 where I continued looking for presents. I was having a hard time finding a gift for a tricky subject when it finally dawned on me. He has a sweet tooth and there was a candy store right in front of me. So what do you buy for the person who has everything except something to satisfy that craving? Simple. Eight pounds of salt water taffy. Never spent so much on sugar in my life.

Hauling our goods and our goodies back to my car, we dropped off everything we didn't need and finally made our way to the attraction that had alluded us the night before, Madame Tussauds San Francisco. I have been to several other wax museums in my lifetime, and it always seems like instead of being very realistic that they are a big sort of scary doll. It's probably one of the reasons that it made Vincent Price think that it would make a good location for a scary movie. I'll be honest, when we decided that we were going to go through the museum I wasn't expecting much, but what I saw during my tour was extremely impressive.

Madame Tussauds San Francisco

As most of you may know, I love history. I'm an avid reader and have spent many hours of my life

soaking in the stories and lives of the past. So when I walked through the first part of the museum and saw Janis Joplin sitting real as life in front of me I was hooked. These were no creepy, hall of horrors wax failures. Each of the pieces had been intricately made until it fully resembled the model. The detail given to the wardrobe and props is stunning and you couldn't help but feel that they should be moving when you attempted to touch them. There were so many personages in the hall that I would give anything to meet, and it was fascinating to be so up close and personal with their shades. Plus watching Colleen get close and personal with some of the greats was just plain awesome.

Madame Tussauds has twenty galleries across the world, everywhere from San Francisco, Singapore, to the original in London. They all use the methods that were created by the talented sculptor Marie Tussaud who perfected her craft in 1777. Lore has it that she practiced her art by making death masks of the victims of Madame Guillotine, but no matter where she learned it her techniques are still very effective.

As a general rule, I am not a star struck person. I'm a big believer that a persons job does not tell you who they are, but rather what they do. That doesn't mean that I don't respect the person or their craft, but I'm not a gusher. I might shake the persons hand if the moment presented itself and tell them I enjoyed their work but you won't find me screaming and tearing my clothes.

That being said, there were several scenarios that delighted me  greatly through out the experience. The first I found just as we entered into the Hollywood-esque portion. I had just finished giggling over watching Colleen get friendly with Elvis when I recognized a familiar bathtub and standing next it an even more familiar bald man. Alfred Hitchcock!!! I found myself hopping up and down and clapping my hands in delight like an enamored teen.

Not only is Psycho one of my all time favorite movies, but I've always found Alfred Hitchcock to be fascinating. He was supposed to be a very shy person, although it is said that he had a devilish sense of humor. That being said he knew exactly what he wanted out of a scene and never hesitated to get it. He was a person I would have dearly loved to shake hands with. I thought perhaps my goofiness had passed until I turned around and saw the ever beautiful Audrey Hepburn sitting at a table just waiting for breakfast. Again I felt like I just couldn't resist.

I was having a blast and was delighted to see that Colleen was as well. She is better versed in the more modern actors and was soon jumping at the chance to mug with her favorites. Soon she had collected everyone from Christian Bale to George Clooney, and what a lovely addition she made on their arms. Lucky gents.

I thought I had shed the last of my twitterpations when I came around a corner and discovered myself face to face with my childhood obsession. An obsession that garnered my nickname to all of nieces and nephews. It was E.T! Ready to fly on his bicycle and with a red hoodie hung up right to him just waiting to fly off on an adventure. With an admitted squeal I jumped on the bicycle and let my imagination run me back to the days when I would have given anything to be hanging out with E.T. For the record all of the kids call me Auntie E.T which gives me a huge sense of inner squee.


That name came about when my niece Angelina was a baby and she crawled into my room. She was met by a life sized E.T statue and was scared out of her mind. After that she would point to my room and say E.T, in a hushed terrified voice, E.T in there. I ended up selling the figurine but it wasn't long before she began to call me Auntie E.T and ten years later all of the kids do it. It's my kind of awesome.

Colleen and I were nearing the end of the attraction and we both
agreed that although it was touristy, it had been too much fun to pass up. Sometimes it the completely in your face, obvious, tourist trap that turns out to be a great adventure. It doesn't hurt when said attraction does its very best to pull you into the fun so that you feel like you too are a star.

On to the next Adventure!

A Journey to The San Francisco Dungeon

A Journey to the San Francisco Dungeon

San Francisco. One of the worlds most iconic cities, it's easy to see why people find their way in droves to the City by the Bay. Whether you've come looking for the sites, the people or the food there is something for everyone in this fog wrapped metropolis. Now for the confession, I only live about three hours away from this fascinating city and until a few weekends ago I had never gone for more than a doctors appointment of some kind. Except for my audition to the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, but that was still a get in and get the heck out type of situation.

So when I found myself free at the same time that my sister in law Colleen Douglas had a rare weekend off, there was only one thing to be done. Grab my trusty plaid backpack and head off on another adventure. So where to begin? There are literally thousands of things to do in this conundrum of a town. It has history, it has the keys to the future, beautiful scenery, amazing architecture, museums, theaters, nightlife, shopping, China Town and the most amazing food every where you turn. Not a place to entertain a diet, even if San Francisco does have a reputation for healthy eating. Don't get me wrong, you can find some of the best gourmet clean eating types of food you can imagine....but right next to that restaurant is going to be one that offers something so sinful you may find yourself wanting to confess gluttony to the next passing padre. But for us, nothing else would do than to find ourselves traipsing through San Francisco's newest attraction, the San Francisco Dungeon.

But the best way to start any tale is at the beginning and I'm jumping ahead of myself as usual. Colleen and I left my house a little after five on a beautiful Friday evening and it wasn't long before we found ourselves wishing we had been able to leave a few hours earlier. Traffic is never a pretty thing as you head toward the Bay area but during rush hour on a Friday night? Oy. That's all I can say about that. Oy.

Just as we got to the Bay Bridge, my handy dandy navigation system alerted us to the fact that what should have been about a twenty minute drive could potentially be over an hour more of a journey thanks to an accident on the bridge. Noooooo. Colleen, who loathes traffic with a burning fiery passion, and myself decided to take a gamble that the accident was an older one and decided to defy the system. Rebels. Our gamble turned out to be a good one as we went over the bridge. It was a bit tight but we made it to our hotel in far less time than the hour detour would have taken us.

Now I have often found that hotel ratings can be tricky things. What rates a three and a half star room in one town can mean a wholly different thing in another. As we would find out later that weekend, but that is a tale for another day. The Wharf Inn turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. The room, while a little on the small side, was spotless, comfortable and had a very nice perk that I wasn't expecting. Free parking. Seriously, if you haven't stayed in San Francisco be warned, a lot of hotels down here are going to charge you for parking even if you are their guest. Space is at a premium in this grand old town. It's also only a two minute walk from Fisherman's wharf which was awesome. If you're looking for a nice place to stay in the city, I highly recommend it. It's not fancy, but the next time I head out this way I know where I'm staying.

The Wharf Inn

When Colleen and I arrived at the room, we immediately divested ourselves of our luggage, transferred my most important purse related items to my camera bag and headed out to see what kind of trouble we could dig up. The first thing we realized upon reaching the street was that we were starving. As is often the case for me, I had worked so hard during the day that I had forgotten to eat anything at all and Colleen had taken a page from my playbook. However neither of us wanted to stop to eat a full dinner since we wanted to make sure that we gave ourselves plenty of time to see the Dungeon. So we decided to hit a small restaurant right across the street from the hotel called Hot Spud. I mean how you can go wrong with a baked potato as a snack?

We headed inside and looked at the menu, which was really quite varied for what we were expecting. I had no idea that the humble baked potato could be prettied up into anything resembling a gourmet item but let me tell you.....oh. my. god. Colleen ordered The Wharf, which was a huge potato that contained crab, corn and onion drenched in the most amazing lemon burre blanc sauce. I ordered the Shrimp Spud which came with shrimp dressed in a chipotle tarter sauce. I have never eaten a potato so fast in my life. It was gigantic but before I knew it I had literally inhaled it. I have to admit that I've dreamed of that potato a few times in the last few weeks.

Fortified we made our way over to the San Francisco Dungeon, which was only a few hundred feet away from our hotel. I wasn't sure what to expect coming to the attraction. After all, it had only been open for a few weeks. Was it going to be a scary haunted house type of gore fest? Something more along the lines of a wax museum? What it turned out to be was a type of living history tour, which highlighted the darker parts of San Francisco's history. I love history. I am one of those people who is fascinated by the stories of the people who have come before us. Add a ghost story to it and if it's produced even half way decent, you've got my interest.

The San Francisco Dungeon

Ticket prices are generally twenty six dollars a piece but being the savvy traveler that I am, I looked it up on Groupon first and got us a deal for twenty six dollars for the pair of our tickets. BOGO, you gotta love it. I upgraded our tickets at the door so that we could also see Madame Tussuad's which is right next door, for another ten bucks. I also purchased the fancy walking guide for another three. Ok, so maybe my savviness is really just a sign that I get tourist fever but who hasn't fallen victim to that at least once in their life?

The attendant sent us off to explore the Dungeon with a warm, 'Have a terrible time!' and we found ourselves walking into a photo setup. We stopped and posed for several pictures, knowing immediately that there was almost no chance that we weren't going to buy them. Tourist fever is a dangerous thing. For my wallet. We walked down a set of stairs and found ourselves face to face with a creepy man wearing a beat up top hat. He advised us that the next tour would get started in about twenty minutes and to please join the line. He also advised me that unfortunately I was going to have to leave my camera in my bag as there was no photography during the tour. He consoled me by telling me to feel free to admire the rats. Rats? Well what do you know? There in front of me was a Plexiglas box bearing old gold mining equipment, crawling with vermin. Nothing says class like a rats in a glass.

When the tour began, we walked through a set of doors and found ourselves standing by an old snake oil wagon. Even though the attraction is underground, you felt as if you could be standing in the middle of one Northern California's famous golden plains. We were met here by Violet, our initial guide who was dressed in a sort of madams dress and carrying a parasol she didn't mind poking people with. She invited one of tour group to spin a wheel to win a fabulous prize. As long as the wheel didn't stop on retribution every one in the group would get a share in something glorious. The girl, Amy, spun the wheel and it stopped....on retribution. Yeah! From there we made our way onto a large elevator platform which jumped a little underneath our feet. Oh this can't be good. It turns out that I was right to be worried as we were plunged into darkness and then felt ourselves begin to plummet down the mine shaft. It turns out that in the San Francisco Dungeon, retribution is swift.

As we continued through the Dungeon, we found ourselves facing the spirit of an Ancient Franciscan monk, lost in a mirrored mine, on trial before a hanging judge, drugged and kidnapped by the King of the Crimps and his partner the infamous Miss Piggot, and finally jailed on Alcatraz. It was fascinating to see over two hundred years of history play out before our eyes. I think my favorite part of the experience was the real boat ride that you take underneath the streets of San Francisco. Least favorite? Getting poked in the kidney by the Crimp. If I was one of the Stooges it would have been a why I outta moment.

As we neared the end of the Dungeon, Colleen and I looked at each other and agreed. The San Francisco Dungeon is something we definitely want to come back to with a full contingent of our fellow adventurers.

We exited in the gift shop, as so many attractions do. Now I admit that I normally speed through this

section as fast as I possibly can yelling 'Thanks for the adventure!' over my shoulder as I do, but Touristitis had already set in. Plus I'm on the hunt for a new mascot for my adventures. Thirst, the bat like creature from the Great Horror Campout, had become my de facto totem during a few of my earlier adventures. I have come to realize that I really miss his mug.

As we became adjusted to the bright lights of the shop, we looked before us and there was a stand with our first memorabilia purchase of the night. It was a beautiful booklet they had prepared while we were on the tour that contained all the pictures we had posed for at the beginning of the evening. Finding ours, we instantly had a giggling fit over some of the photos. I learned over the course of this weekend that my scared face is hysterical.

Now as some of you may be aware, despite my natural shy nature, there are moments where I simply cannot stop myself from talking to strangers. Be they mutants, bikers with tattoos of skulls in top hats, or unsuspecting bystanders, I really can't help it. That being said I got to chatting with the supervisor of the photo portion of the attraction, Michael Wincott, about my adventures and the pictures I both take and borrow for my reviews. He graciously gave me permission to post the photos that they took of us. They work for Magic Memories, a company that takes photos at attractions, and they certainly know how to take a memorable picture. Plus the rest of their group was kind enough to pose for me for a group photo. After all it's only fair that they don't always have to be the ones behind the camera. A big thank you to Khayree Lopez, Timothy Wilson, Heidi Parker, and of course to Michael for their beautiful smiles.

We finished our shopping, and although we came away with a bunch of neat loot for our families back home, I failed to find a mascot. Lots of spooky stuff inside, but nothing that screamed out to me that it needed to come with  me on my adventures.

Realizing that the time had grown too late for us to hit Madame Tussuad's, we decided that we would come back in the morning. It was well into the evening by this point and we were starving...again. The potato seemed a distant memory so we wandered down the wharf looking for a place that would serve us both fresh seafood and warm sourdough bread. Neither of us has families that enjoy the bounty of the ocean so it's not often that we get to indulge our passion for poisson....fish. We spotted the Fog Harbor Fish House, which promised both seafood and warm bread, so we made our way inside eagerly. Colleen and I may have gotten a bit carried away. We ordered enough food for a small party and by the end of the meal we were bursting at the seams.

We started off with a bowl of fresh clam chowder, plus a basket of the most amazing

sourdough bread and a layered martini a piece. The chowder was fresh, thick and frankly wonderful. We probably could have stopped there and been completely satisfied....but we had already ordered and more was on the way. Soon to come was a bowl of their crispy bay scallops served with a spicy jalapeno aioli, writing about it is making my mouth water. I love spicy food and combined with the sweet scallops I was a very happy adventurer. The portions are HUGE and I realized that there was no way I could feasibly eat the platter of fresh seafood we had ordered like gluttons.

The platter contained half a steamed crab, muscles, clams, shrimp and corn, all of which was drizzled with olive oil, butter and herbs. It smelled like heaven and despite feeling like I was about to explode I dove right in. I am ashamed to admit that although we were able to put a large dent in said platter, that we left a good deal of the amazing food at the table. We didn't have a fridge in the room and there would be no way to keep any leftovers. An over site that I will not make again the next time I head back down this way.

Full to the brim, we made or way back to our room to collapse in our beds. We had so much more left on our itinerary that we wondered how we were going to be able to cram it all in the space of a single weekend. We drifted off to sleep to dream of the spooky streets of San Francisco and overflowing platters of seafood. The next day would bring another string of experiences that everyone should have at least once in their lifetime.

On to the next adventure!