Dispatches

From haunted ruins to hallowed ground, Dispatches on the Gothic Dispatch seek out the places where our world overlaps with others. This page collects these Gothic travel guides, or you can use the search bar to find Gothic places by country around the world. Each combines the story of a particular location, my experiences exploring it, recommendations for where to go next and, where necessary, advice for getting out alive. Posts are also accompanied by something that’s sure to send a shiver down your spine – my own amateurish photography.

These are Dispatches, light reports from the world’s darkest places.

The white exterior of Strawberry Hill House as seen from the gardens. Gothic battlements, towers and spires cluster as though for warmth; windows and finials fight for space.

Strawberry Hill House, Horace Walpole’s gothic plaything

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Few things suggest hereditary power in England like gothic castles – although receding hairlines come close. Fortunately, Horace Walpole chose to poke fun at the former.

Greetings from Strawberry Hill House, Horace Walpole’s “little gothic castle” and inspiration for the first gothic novel. Join me to discover the ironic origins of gothic literature’s essential inversion – that of the dominator and the subordinate. And peek behind the walls of England’s greatest castles to find power as flimsy as cardboard.

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The reading room of Bibliothèque Mazarine in Paris. Wooden bookshelves and marble and iron busts line the walls while students and visitors study on grand tables lit by lamps.

Tracking Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” through Paris

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Edgar Allan Poe never set foot in Paris. He wrote about it anyway. But can “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” serve as a guide to the darker side of the city of light?

In this dispatch, join me between the pages and passageways of Poe’s gothic detective story. Hone your ratiocination in the footsteps of C. Auguste Dupin. Walk among volumes rare and remarkable in the city’s grand libraries. Search for the grotesque mansion in which the mystery unravels. And perhaps find an answer to one of the story’s biggest questions: Is the Rue Morgue a real place?

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Iron pillars hold up the roof of an old arcade in central Paris. A cobbled path leads through and, on the other side, the green of trees hints at a local square.

Dancing with death at the former site of Holy Innocents’ Cemetery

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Remember that war, plague or famine could carry us to the grave at any instant. So, let’s just try and enjoy ourselves before that.

In this dispatch, visit the former site of Holy Innocents’ Cemetery and the first visual example of a danse macabre. Search high and low for what remains of the cemetery – not least its reputation for depravity. And join me in learning that, whether you want to visit a country’s monuments or assassinate one of its monarchs, it’s best to seize every moment.

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A cobbled stone path winding through Père Lachaise Cemetery. Enormous stone tombs, protected by iron doors, line the path. Bright green foliage hangs overhead.

Making famous friends in Père Lachaise Cemetery

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Welcome to Père Lachaise – where there’s plenty of room for the living but the dead face stiffer entry requirements.

In this dispatch, join me as I search among more than one million residents for the best company in the afterlife. Meet the great French writers Molière and Jean de La Fontaine. Pay tribute to lovers Abelard and Heloise. And find out how they came to be buried here and how I might hope to, too. Because, while I have plenty left to do, see and lose in this life, one can never be too prepared.

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A grainy black and white photo of Reims Cathedral from the south-west corner. The towers, excessively decorated, reach into the clear sky and out of the top of the frame.

Losing my way in the labyrinth of Reims Cathedral

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Greetings from Reims Cathedral. While supposedly not an allusion to the disorienting and processional nature of ruling, this site of French coronations was once home to a labyrinth.

In this dispatch, follow me through the winding streets of the city and try not to get lured off-course by the art deco architecture. Lose all sense of scale as you gaze at the 15-foot statues of previous monarchs that line the cathedral’s towers. And discover why a labyrinth that held four masons and an archbishop has become a symbol of France’s historical monuments.

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A 17th century illustration shows a distant view of the town and Basilica of Saint Denis.

Heading to the Basilica of Saint Denis, origin of gothic architecture

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The French town of Saint Denis is named for the bishop who, in 250AD, supposedly walked there from Montmartre – a distance of about seven kilometres – holding his own decapitated head.

Now, when you’re going through something even ever-so-slightly unpleasant, it almost never helps to consider the ways things could be worse. So, say that a thunderstorm has forced you to take refuge in an abandoned violin store. You would no doubt be cold and miserable. And while things could be worse – the violin store could be in business and flooding the world with the sharp and screeching sound of strings – the thought won’t dry your soaked clothes.

So, despite the head still attached to my body, it was with reservations that I took the metro to Saint Denis to see the oldest gothic building for myself.

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A black and white photograph of the Palais de la Cité and Sainte-Chapelle in 1916. A horse and carriage roll by on the otherwise empty street.

Visiting Sainte-Chapelle, the gothic palace French royalty abandoned

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If you’ve ever possessed a fortune large enough to spend a lot of it, you’ll know the sinking feeling that comes when you realise you probably won’t get your money’s worth.

For example, I once spent a month’s salary on a figurehead salvaged from the prow of a very famous pirate ship. I made this purchase because I believed it would bring my companion and I good luck on a perilous voyage of our own. Needless to say, it was one of the first things cut loose when our boat started taking on water – a decision which did nothing to ease my own sinking feeling.

A sinking feeling no doubt familiar to the French royal family. Because little more than 100 years after its completion in 1248, Sainte-Chapelle and the surrounding palace were abandoned. I went to see this gothic gem for myself.

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