Picton: Australia’s Most Haunted Town

On the surface, Picton feels like any other quiet country town – heritage shopfronts, wide streets, and the clean scent of eucalyptus in the air. But listen a little longer and something changes. The stillness deepens. The past draws closer. This is no ordinary town. This is Picton – Australia’s most haunted place.

Long before colonial settlement, this region was home to the Tharawal people, who called the land Benkennie (dry land). But by the early 1800s, colonists had moved in, carving out roads, buildings, and a new name: first 'Stonequarry', then 'Picton'. Growth came fast with the Great South Road and the Southern Highlands railway. But the land, it seems, never forgot what it lost. And neither did those who died here.

The town’s most infamous site is the Redbank Range Tunnel – known locally as the Mushroom Tunnel. Built in 1867 for steam trains, it later stored mustard gas during WWII and even farmed mushrooms in its cold, damp interior. But the ghost of Emily Bollard supposedly lingers in the darkness. In 1916, she entered the tunnel and never walked out – struck by a train in what may have been a tragic accident or a desperate end.

Picton Tunnel

Today, visitors speak of a pale figure ahead on the tracks, cameras that fail without reason, icy air even in summer, and the phantom screech of a train long gone. On a visit there, I felt cobwebs brush against my skin – though no webs were visible. Was it Emily, still waiting?

Not far away, St Mark’s Cemetery keeps watch over the town. Two young spirits are said to wander here: Blanche Moon, who died in 1886 after falling from a timber stack, and David Shaw, who succumbed to polio in 1946. In 2010, a ghost tour participant captured a photo of what looked like two translucent children playing among the gravestones – though no children were physically present.

But Picton’s hauntings aren’t confined to cemeteries and tunnels. They seep into its buildings. At Wollondilly Shire Hall, invisible footsteps echo in the halls. A man in an old-fashioned suit, a mischievous boy, and a laughing girl are said to roam the site. At the Old Maternity Hospital, now a private home, phantom newborns cry, and a stern matron’s ghost still keeps watch. Even the Imperial Hotel has its secrets – jukeboxes playing while unplugged, shadows that vanish when looked at directly.

Down by Stonequarry Creek, strange splashes sound without a source. During the building of the nearby viaduct – Australia’s oldest stone railway bridge – two workers lost their lives. The bridge’s grandeur is still striking, but the screeching of thousands of bats during my visit only added to its eerie weight.

Picton Viaduct

For years, ghost tours led by Liz and John Vincent brought visitors from around the world. But in 2011, council restrictions shut them down after local complaints. The spirits, however, didn’t leave with the tour groups.

Today, curious travellers still come to Picton with cameras in hand. Some leave with ghost photos. Others, like me, leave with something harder to explain: a lingering feeling that you were watched the entire time. That something old and unseen wants you to return.

Many of Picton’s haunted sites are accessible to the public, while others are private. If you go, tread with respect – not just for the living, but for the restless dead.