“Are there ghosts at Kellie’s Castle?”
Encik Abdullah repeated my question with a smile and a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Well, no one has actually seen any ghost – as far as I know. It’s probably more of a myth, for the tourists.” He paused, then leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter: “But there are hidden rooms there – and secret passages …”
Encik Abdullah produced a notepad from his drawer and began writing a name, while I glanced around at the posters on the walls of Ipoh’s tourist information office. “Here,” he passed me the note. “If you’re going up to the castle, look for this man – Mr. Steven Ng. You should be able to find him. If you’re lucky, he may be able to show you the secret tunnel …”
Ghost, hidden rooms, secret passages – it’s no wonder that Kellie’s Castle has a reputation for being one of the most mysterious places in Malaysia. An extravagant mansion built a hundred years ago on the outskirts of Ipoh by a wealthy plantation owner, Kellie’s Castle was an ambitious dream project that was never finished, which helps explain its common nickname – Kellie’s Folly.
To reach the castle from Ipoh, you can either drive or take a bus 12km south to Batu Gajah and from there take a taxi. After following the contours of the rubber plantations for several kilometers, the road passes a large, apricot-colored building on a ridge overlooking a meandering river, its white stucco arches and columns glinting in the sunlight, a fairy tale mirage incongruously set amidst the lush surroundings of a vast plantation.
After buying my ticket at the reception kiosk, I was directed to a snack house just in front of the castle where I found Steven Ng, the manager of the castle estate. I mentioned my conversation with Mr. Abdullah, and asked if it would be possible to see the secret passage.
“The tunnel? Ah, unfortunately that’s not possible at the moment,” said Ng apologetically. “You see, the ventilation is so poor, we can’t let people down there. It’s just too dangerous. You can see the tunnel entrance, though, at the far end of the castle wing, and now you can also see the hidden wine cellar, at the base of the tower.” He gestured to a 6-storey tower at the far end of the castle’s front wall. “You know, he was going to build a lift in that tower: it probably would have been the first in the country. Sadly, of course, he never got a chance to complete it …”
Ng suggested that I start my tour at Kellie’s first house, located just behind the castle wing that’s visible from the road. Today, there’s not much left of this original house, just a ruined two-storied wall surrounded by crumbling masonry, seemingly held together only by the tree roots and creepers that are gradually reclaiming the land. A solitary stairwell climbs the wall to the second storey then abruptly stops in midair, like a half-completed stairway to heaven.
From the ruined remains of Kellie’s first house, a covered walkway leads back across a courtyard to the main castle wing where the most striking feature is the lift tower. At the basement of the tower is a small concrete-walled wine cellar that had been rediscovered only recently. The climb up to the tower rooftop reveals a panoramic view of the whole plantation, with ordered terraces of rubber trees marching in lines to the far horizon. A few tourists sat precariously on the edge of the roof, gazing out at a sun-baked landscape that had probably changed little from Kellie’s day.
The main family rooms on the second floor have been restored to something of their former glory, although none of the rooms are furnished and the only inhabitants now are families of spiders and insects. But with the sunlight streaming through the arched windows it is not difficult to imagine what life may have been like in Kellie’s era – luxurious ballrooms, rich furnishings, jazz music playing on the gramophone.
None of the doors in these rooms was locked, except one, at the far end of the second floor, and through an adjacent window it was just about possible to make out the outline of a dark, narrow descending stairwell that presumably led to an underground passage below. Was this the secret tunnel that Encik Abdullah had alluded to?
Outside on the verandah I found an information board that explained the whole story of the castle and its enigmatic creator. Gradually the pieces of the Kellie puzzle fell into place, revealing an ultimately tragic tale of mystery, romance and broken dreams. —Heritage Asia Magazine
Photo credit: Malaysia Tourism