Houston: Haunted Bar Walking Tour & Ghost Stories Downtown

4.81

(214 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I thought I’d lost my ID before we even started—classic me. Turned out it was wedged in a weird pocket of my bag, but for a second I pictured everyone heading off with our costumed guide while I stood outside Market Square Park like a ghost myself. Anyway, once that mini-drama passed, we kicked off the Booze and Boos tour right in the middle of downtown Houston. There was this faint smell of rain on old bricks, and our guide (dressed as some Victorian character—top hat and all) immediately cracked a joke about “spirits” both liquid and lingering.

The first bar was dim and creaky, all wood panels and low light. I tried something called a Texas Mule—ginger beer with an extra kick—and listened as our guide told us about the elevator we were riding being the oldest electric one in Texas. It rattled just enough to make me wonder if ghosts really do mess with machinery. At one point, someone dropped their glass and everyone jumped; maybe it was nerves or just the way stories settle in your head after dark. The group loosened up after that, swapping nervous laughs between sips.

We wandered through uneven sidewalks past Buffalo Bayou, which honestly looked way less spooky than it sounded when you hear about drowned lovers haunting its banks. The air felt thick—humid, heavy—and every so often you’d catch snippets of music from other bars or someone shouting “Go Astros!” We stopped at what’s supposed to be Houston’s oldest bar. The bartender told us her own story about flickering lights that don’t have any wiring explanation. She shrugged like it was just another Tuesday. I liked that.

By the last stop—a former bank turned bar—I’d stopped worrying about ghosts and started thinking more about how much history is layered into these places. Our guide asked if anyone had felt anything weird; someone said they got goosebumps near an old vault door (I didn’t, but maybe that’s because I was too focused on my drink). Walking back through Market Square Park at night, everything felt quieter than before. Or maybe I just noticed it more after hearing all those stories—you know?