Spirit of Place: The Wellington Hotel

The end of an era has arrived with a change of landlord at the Wellington. Not the one by the floozy in the jacuzzi, the one on Bromsgrove Street, pictured during the Birmingham Superprix.
It was always an acquired taste, and I once went to a production by Acting Out there with someone who expressed her surprise at one of the Pauls actually referring to a customer as a c*nt to his face.
That building is otherwise a challenge in other ways. For a start it is ridiculously haunted. I have not seen her myself but there is a grey lady who walks across the bar, and in one of the bedrooms female guests get harassed by a Randy ghost. That's the sort of ghost I would love to be.
The place also has another secret but even the loquacious Hound isn't going to rush into print with that one...