There was an old lady in Bournemouth who used to sit me as a baby. When I was about four, we went to visit her and there were some things about her house that seemed both magical and terrifying.
The entrance hall had mirrors on both walls, and so that was the first place I saw the mindblowing infinite replications of yourself effect. There was some ancient antique toilet with a raised pull-chain cistern that made noises suggesting it was alive. And the garden, which must have actually been pretty small (this was a fairly standard Victorian terrace), had about five little trees and a winding path and was clearly the forest where Hansel and Gretel happened.
@internetsdairy I thought this was going to be a limerick, slightly sad when it wasn’t.
Bournemouth was a real hotspot for poltergeists in the 70s, apparently.