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Spending the night in Ottawa’s Jail Hostel
Bucket List columnist Robin Esrock checks into the capital’s strangest accommodation, tours Death Row and locks in for the night
- Nov 21, 2024
- 1,238 words
- 5 minutes
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There are few places in the world where you can spend a night in jail and leave your criminal record intact. Perth, Oxford and Boston each have a prison hotel, but Canada’s entry feels particularly authentic. The Saintlo Ottawa Jail Hostel, emblematic of a real prison, offers a unique historical experience that lacks the charm and privacy you might find in a traditional hostel. However, the experience more than makes up for it, especially for budget-conscious travellers. Open to all, Ottawa’s Jail Hostel makes for a memorable night’s accommodation that won’t break the bank.
For 110 years, the thick-stoned building on Nicholas Street was known as the Carleton County Gaol, an imposing hell designed to imprison Ottawa’s most notorious offenders. Built in 1862 as a model British prison, the reality of the jail was hardly civilized. Tiny, freezing cells were crammed with both men and boys as young as five years old, reeking of excrement, the floor crawling with rats and bugs. The prison was eventually shut down in 1972 due to cruel living conditions but opened the following year as a refurbished youth hostel. Backpackers will put up with just about anything to save dough on the road.
Initially leased to the Youth Hostel Association of Canada, the jail has been operated by the Montreal-based St. Lawrence Youth Hostels Association (now rebranded as Saintlo) since 2011. The non-profit recently invested $650,000 in renovations, ensuring that you’ll spend the night in a cell that housed an assortment of scoundrels but in a comfortable, safe and cosmopolitan environment. Having hosted more than a million guests across five decades, visitors continue to arrive nightly from Europe, the United States and across Canada.
To get a taste of the jail’s sordid history, guests can sign up for a complimentary bilingual educational tour each evening (the jail tour is also available to locals and non-guests for a fee.) Along with tales of notorious prisoners, this includes visiting Death Row and the gallows on the top floor. The Nicholas Street Gaol has also been called one of the most haunted buildings in Canada, an accolade I’m particularly aware of when I check in late on a dark, gloomy November night. A staff member invites me to the eighth floor for a tour of Death Row, even though it’s a little later in the evening than usual. We’re both unnerved by the punishingly small cells, low light and haunting stories, not to mention the undeniable ickiness of the well-preserved cells. Some places in the world exude joyous energy, but the eighth floor of Ottawa’s Jail Hostel is simply not one of them. Fortunately, the lounge, kitchen and seating areas downstairs have a fun and social vibe, and everyone can further escape to bars in the bustling ByWard Market just a short walk away.
On the tour, I learn about the typical life of a 19th-century prisoner, which was filthy, bitter, violent, and irrefutably unpleasant. I also hear about the sad and short life of the Irishman Patrick J. Whelan. He was found guilty in the shooting death of Thomas D’Arcy McGee, the Father of Canadian Confederation. Although the 28-year-old Whelan claimed he was innocent throughout his trial, justice was served cold at the Carlton County Gaol on Feb. 11, 1869. I’m shown to the gallows, thoughtfully sporting a hangman’s rope, although no longer in view of the public. Five thousand spectators braved a snowstorm that day to view the execution, with Whelan declaring his innocence right to the very end. The crowd, which included local children, cheered when Whelan dropped and squirmed (and you think your kid’s screen time is disturbing.) This was the last public execution by hanging in Canada. During the politically and religiously charged trial, there was actually no hard evidence to link Whelan with the crime, and conspiracies have swirled ever since. Regardless, it’s not the bedtime story you want to hear before retiring for the night a few floors below.
In the half-century since the jail transformed into a budget hostel, staff and guests have reported hearing or seeing all sorts of odd things, including apparitions, slamming doors, and strange sounds. On the other hand, Saintlo’s 2023 Annual Report has a fun infographic that includes 0 Ghosts seen at Ottawa Jail. “People claim to hear or see unusual things; it’s likely just the shadows from the trees outside playing tricks,” says Saintlo’s Director of Marketing Kathleen Murphy. “Sometimes things work and sometimes they don’t—like the ghost cam we once installed on Death Row, which we could never get to function properly. Whenever minor issues arise, we jokingly blame them on ghosts, but officially, we’re sticking with zero ghosts on the record!” If your imagination runs riot, reassure yourself that all those tormented souls might have been connected to the original plumbing.
I lock myself behind the heavy iron doors of my cell and pull out a book, utterly distracted by the thought of the miserable miscreants who once rotted in this same space. It’s late and quiet, but I can hear voices from a cell down the corridor. The prison was designed with special vaulted ceilings to capture and project sound so guards could hear if inmates were plotting escapes. It was a clever design touch, as was installing a thick fence between the stairwells to discourage prisoners from attempting suicide. The fencing is still there, along with late-night whispers travelling between the cells.
I eventually fall asleep, but wake from a restless dream at four in the morning. Unfortunately, I need to pee, an unfortunate predicament when one is lodging alone in an unnerving prison hotel. While there is one deluxe private room with an ensuite bathroom, guests in the single, double and twin cells use common washrooms down the hallways. On my various misadventures around the world, I’ve learned that ghastly ghosts are intrinsically allergic to one thing: cameras. I turn on my phone camera, gingerly walk down the dark hallway to the communal bathroom, and get excited: what if I’m the first journalist to definitely capture the undead? Relieved yet somewhat disappointed at the result, I return to my cell to see the night through, looking forward to the morning’s complimentary breakfast. After my first memorable night in jail, I’m grateful for the freedom to check out of my cell and explore the nation’s capital.
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