It was a tricky interview. The subject could only answer “yes” or “no”, which made the whole process laborious. But then, he was dead, so you have to make allowances.

And he gave me quite a scoop.

I got my exclusive from beyond the grave with the help of Haunting Breaks, which runs ghostly weekends at venues with suitably spooky credentials. You get the gist from the brochure: “All our breaks include dinner with wine, bed and breakfast, and a full paranormal experience.”

On this occasion, we’re at Lumley Castle, a genuinely eerie 600-year-old pile in County Durham, and, naturally, it’s infested with spooks. When the touring Australian cricket team stayed, macho all-rounder Shane Watson was so scared, he refused to sleep alone, and spent the night quivering on teammate Brett Lee’s bedroom floor.

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Perfect place for a ghost hunt, then. The Haunting Breaks method is to make them come to us, using a series of spirit-luring techniques including crystal-spinning, a seance, dowsing and glass divination.

Twenty of us assemble in the evening, in a shadowy oak-panelled room. It’s crystals first. You dangle one on a chain, and the spirits will move it one way or another to answer your questions – yes or no.

The room is full of muttered queries: “Will I be a grandmoth-er?” “Will I be promoted?” “Will I ever get into a size12 dress?” (Yes, really.) My crystal remains stubbornly still, so Emily, one of the gaggle of helpers, holds the chain for me. It starts spinning in all directions. Running through the alphabet, she works out that the spirit doing the moving is called Nigel. Hardly a dignified name for a ghost.

“He was known to you in life,” Emily informs me. The only Nigel I know was last seen three days before, alive and well and designing websites in Twicken-ham. Concerned, I nip out and give him a call. He confirms he’s still here. So much for crystals.

The seance is a bit of a dud, too. With James, our psychic, we sit in a dark room, hands joined, but the spirits resolutely refuse to knock on tables or twitch curtains. I can’t blame them. They’re not performing seals. Well, not unless the afterlife is more complicated than we think.

Things look up when we get to glass divination. Six of us sit round a little table, each with a finger on an upturned glass that the spirits are invited to move. After a minute, it starts to shift – by itself. This is better.

Or it would be if they were a livelier bunch. A succession of ghosts tell us their names, when they lived, what they died of, and how they are now – none too chirpy, by and large. God, they’re dull.

I’m rapidly learning that just because someone’s dead, it doesn’t make them great company. Boring people die too, you know. And if you think about it, they’re the ones we’re more likely to meet. Given the tedious things we ask ghosts to do – shift curtains, move glasses – the interesting and popular ones aren’t going to bother, preferring to whoop it up with their own kind. We’re left with the billy-no-mates of the afterlife.

But perhaps we’re just asking the wrong questions. Next up is dowsing: you hold an angled rod in each hand and the spirits move them together for “yes”, apart for “no”. I mutter, “Is my name Stephen?” and, hey presto, they swing together.

“That was a strong movement. Definitely a spirit,” says dowsing guru Tony.

Here’s my chance: a live, one-on-one interview with a dead person. I’m keen to make the most of it. To hell with the boring details – I want answers to the eternal mysteries.

“Is there a God?” An emphatic yes. Chew on that, Richard Dawkins. “Is there life after death?” Yes again. That’s encouraging. “Is everyone happy in the afterlife?” No, which is a bit of a downer. “Does existence have meaning?” The wires are hesitant, wibbling about vaguely. Suspecting that I’m getting too philosophical, I go for something more earthly.

“Will Sou’wester win the 3.30 at Wincanton tomorrow?” A strong yes. Handy to know.

I have one question left – and I reckon it’s a clincher. Closing my eyes and summoning all my powers, I ask the spirit from the beyond in a clear, ringing voice, “Is this all cobblers?”

The rods tremble. They wobble. And then slowly, almost apologetically, they swing together.

Quite an exclusive: a statement from a ghost that there’s no such thing as ghosts. If you’re not reading this on the front page, there’s been a serious error of judgment on the news desk.

I wandered up to my room in the eaves at 3am, leaving the hard-core believers still divining like demons. It’s supposedly haunted by a dark monk, but knowing he didn’t exist, I wasn’t worried.

I woke with a start as dawn peeped through the curtains. There was an irritating drip... drip: I couldn’t have tightened the tap properly when I had a bath the evening before. Blearily, I stumbled to the bathroom.

The bath was full of water. Reddish water, the colour of...diluted blood. Either Lumley Castle has some very dodgy plumbing or the monk doesn’t take kindly to unbelievers.

I wasn’t hanging around to find out which it was: I ran for the train back to London – stopping only to put a tenner on Sou’wester.

He came in at 4 to 1.

Travel details: with Haunting Breaks (01686 668649, www.hauntingbreaks.co.uk), weekends across the UK start at £170pp including dinner, breakfast and paranormal activities. Or try Fright Nights (0114 251 3232, www.frightnights.co.uk) or Haunted Happenings (0115 972 9312, www.hauntedhappenings.co.uk).

MORE HAUNTING HOUSEHOLDS

ETTINGTON PARK HOTEL, WARWICKSHIRE

A brooding, turreted, neo-gothic pile with more ghosts than guests. Expect to hear the happy sound of children playing. Even if there aren't any live ones in the hotel.

0845 072 7454, www.handpicked.co.uk; doubles from £120, B&B

CASTLE STUART, INVERNESS-SHIRE

The challenge at this 17th-century fort is to sleep at the top of the haunted East Tower. A local once took a bet to stay there: he was found dead in the courtyard, having “jumped” in the night.

01463 790745, www.castle stuart.com; East Tower room £390, half-board

CHEQUERS INN, KENT

Nothing sinister about this twee 14th-century coaching inn. Unless you stay in the haunted bedroom, where, in 1812, a soldier was murdered by a local strumpet. He’s still there, and he’s not in a good mood.

01233 770217, www.thechequerssmarden.com; haunted room £90, B&B

BLACK SWAN HOTEL, WILTSHIRE

All night vigils are held at this 18th-century coaching inn, with reports of loud footsteps and, oddly, a strong smell of flowers; and a lady walking through walls in room 4.

01380 723259, www.blackswanhotel.fsnet.co.uk; room 4 from £90, B&B

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