Haunted Places in Albuquerque: Ghost Tour, Haunted Hotels, and Ghost Stories

I’ve never seen a ghost—but I know a few credible people who swear they have. While I wouldn’t call myself a true believer, I’m definitely ghost-curious. So when I was invited to explore some haunted places in Albuquerque on a guided ghost tour of Old Town, I figured… why not?

In this post, I’ll take you along for that tour and then widen the lens to explore haunted hotels, theaters, and stories from across New Mexico. Whether you’re chasing paranormal thrills, forgotten history, or just a good road trip with an edge, there’s something here for you. In my next post, I’ll shift focus to the ghost towns of New Mexico—abandoned places where the past lingers in quieter, dustier ways.

Heads up: Some of the links in this post are affiliate links. If you buy something through them, it helps support this site—at no extra cost to you. I only recommend stuff I genuinely use and trust.

A Ghost Tour Through Old Town Albuquerque

When you sign up for a ghost tour, you’re secretly hoping for two things. First, that it won’t be cheesy. Second, that something weird will happen—flickering lights, a phantom breeze, maybe even an unexplained whisper caught on your iPhone mic.

With those thoughts in mind, I recently accepted an invitation to join the Albuquerque Ghost Tour by US Ghost Adventures, led by our excellent guide, Brandon. Turns out, Brandon has spent years studying ghost towns and ghost stories across the Southwest—especially here in New Mexico.

Along the way, I ended up learning quite a bit of Albuquerque history I hadn’t heard before—along with the surprising role that ghosts have played (and apparently still play) in the city’s Old Town and along the bosque of the Rio Grande.

Church Street Café: History, Enchiladas, and a Noisy Ghost

We kicked off the tour at Church Street Café, a local favorite for enchiladas, margaritas… and, apparently, the occasional ghost. The building itself is one of the oldest residences in Albuquerque, originally constructed in 1709. The Ruiz family lived here for nearly 300 years, and according to local lore, one member never truly left. Her name is Sara—a poltergeist said to roam the café’s 18-room hacienda, occasionally letting guests and staff know she’s still very much around.

I’ve heard the word “poltergeist” tossed around before, but I’d never looked up what it actually meant. It’s German for “noisy ghost,” the kind known for physical disturbances: clattering objects, slammed doors, lights flickering. In Sara’s case, the stories range from playful to persistent. She’s been blamed for tossed silverware, missing keys, moved tools, and rearranged dolls in a display case. One craftsman swore Sara followed him throughout a renovation—not in a frightening way, but almost like she was keeping him company.

Our guide suggested we say goodnight to Sara before we left—she’s rumored to follow people home if you don’t. Even if some of us weren’t fully convinced, you wouldn’t have known it. Everyone offered a quiet “Goodnight, Sara” before we moved on.

Behind San Felipe de Neri Church: Whispers from the Churchyard

The nearby San Felipe de Neri Church has its own eerie backstory. In 1793, a graveyard was established next to the church, as was tradition. But by 1869, it was full. Identified remains were moved to Santa Barbara Cemetery—but many of the original wooden markers had faded with time, leaving dozens of bodies unidentified. Those remains were reburied in a mass grave.

Like many places in Old Town, this site may sit atop displaced graves. Paranormal investigators sometimes refer to this as graveyard displacement energy—the lingering restlessness of souls moved from their original burial grounds, especially without proper rites.

According to our guide, this has led to a kind of spectral unrest. Paranormal photos taken in the adjacent parking lot have reportedly captured orbs, shadows, and even ghostly voices. Some visitors say they’ve heard someone whisper, “Help me find my way home.” And then there are the gatekeepers—protective spirits said to linger near the old cemetery entrance. When stirred, they may attach themselves to children—as if trying to make their presence known. It’s one reason, our guide added, that many locals still don’t let their kids hang around Old Town after dark.

La Llorona and the Bosque: Echoes Along the River

One of the more well-known ghost stories from the tour centers on María, a local woman believed to be the source of Albuquerque’s version of La Llorona—the Weeping Woman.

Though her story is told across Mexico and the American Southwest, La Llorona has taken on a life of her own in New Mexico. Along the Rio Grande—especially near the bosque in Albuquerque—her legend runs deep. Local families have passed down their own versions for generations, tying the tale to real places where water, memory, and grief converge. It’s here, in the moonlit cottonwoods near bodies of water, that La Llorona is said to walk.

The tale goes like this: In the mid-1800s, María took her children for a walk along the Rio Grande, hoping to catch the attention of her estranged husband. When he arrived in a carriage with another woman and showed affection only to the children, ignoring María completely, something in her snapped. In a fit of anguish, she threw her children into the river—and immediately regretted it, chasing after them while crying, “¡Mis hijos!” She vanished soon after.

Weeks later, neighbors began hearing those same cries along the water. To this day, families living near the bosque report hearing her wails late at night. Children are warned not to go near the river, arroyos, or ditches after dark, as La Llorona is said to appear to the youngest in a group. Others have seen her hovering over picnic tables, vanishing into trees, or gliding across the Rio Grande. A few even report waking up the next morning with a long, bloody scratch down their back.

Whether she’s a shapeshifter, a restless ghost, a symbol of generational trauma, or just an old story meant to keep kids out of trouble at night, María’s presence still echoes through Albuquerque—especially near the river.

The tour ended in a quiet alley near Old Town Plaza, not far from where Maria’s story is said to have started. We thanked Brandon for the tour and parted ways—with a slightly different perspective on Old Town, and maybe a glance over the shoulder on the walk back.

Tips If You Go on A Ghost Tour

• ⏱️ Length: About 1.5 hours at a relaxed walking pace, with several stops around Old Town.
• 🕰️ Tour Time: Tours start at 8:00 p.m. most nights. Plan to arrive a few minutes early, and book ahead—especially on weekends or around holidays. Here’s the link to the ghost tour I took.
• 👟 What to Bring: Comfortable shoes, a bottle of water, and a curious mind. (And maybe a sweater—nights can cool off quickly.)
• 👶 Kid-Friendly? Yes—but it depends on the kid. If they’re into ghost stories or history, they’ll enjoy it. If not, their attention may wander partway through.
• 🚗 Parking: The parking garage at 6th and Central is your best bet. Street parking is available but tends to fill up fast.

A Few Last Words About the Ghost Tour (From the Living)

If you’re visiting Albuquerque and looking for a change of pace after dinner, this ghost tour offers a low-key, thoughtful way to explore the city’s layered history. It wasn’t scary—but it was fascinating. I learned quite a bit of Albuquerque history I hadn’t heard before, along with the surprising role that ghosts continue to play in Old Town and along the bosque of the Rio Grande. The vibe was more atmospheric than theatrical, which I appreciated. No jump scares, no corny costumes—just solid storytelling. Our guide, Brandon, blended history with just the right dose of folklore.

Because the best ghost stories, it turns out, aren’t really about ghosts. They’re about people—what they lost, what they built, and what they left behind.

As Brandon spun tales of haunted haciendas and restless spirits, it hit me: ghost stories in New Mexico aren’t just tourist bait. They’re woven into the culture—from Old Town Albuquerque to dusty cemeteries, abandoned mining camps, and quiet stretches of desert where adobe ruins crumble in the wind.

More Haunted Places in Albuquerque

Of all the reportedly haunted spots in Albuquerque, Old Town may offer the most atmosphere—but it’s hardly the only place where the past refuses to stay quiet. The city has its fair share of ghost stories, from historic hotels to old hospitals. Here are a few of the more well-known locations said to have a paranormal presence.

The KiMo Theatre: Haunted by History (and Donuts)

Of all the haunted landmarks in Albuquerque, the KiMo Theatre might be the most famous. This 1927 Pueblo Deco gem got its name from a contest held during construction—KiMo is a Tewa word meaning “mountain lion” or “king of its kind.” And the name fits. With its intricate geometric tiles, hand-painted murals, and dim, moody lighting, the place already has a dramatic flair… even before you factor in the ghost stories.

Step inside, and you’ll find one of the most visually striking interiors in the Southwest. The KiMo’s Pueblo Deco style blends Art Deco with Native motifs—swastika tiles (an ancient symbol of life, freedom, harmony, and happiness long before it was appropriated by the Nazis), Navajo rug patterns, war drums, and buffalo skulls adorned with garlands and glowing red eyes. The ceiling is lined with vigas—exposed wooden beams common in Pueblo architecture—carved and painted with thunderbirds, rain clouds, and ceremonial scenes. Chandeliers shaped like Native funeral canoes and drums add to the layered symbolism. It feels mythic and ceremonial, like a spiritual gathering place disguised as a movie theater. The building itself seems to hum with stories—even when the stage is quiet.

The most well-known spirit is Bobby Darnall, a six-year-old boy who died in a 1951 explosion caused by a faulty water heater. Since then, performers and stagehands have reported unexplained mishaps—lights flickering, sound cues skipping, equipment going haywire. According to theater lore, these issues can be avoided by leaving Bobby a donut backstage before a show. Miss that ritual, and your performance might not go as planned.

Even if you’re not into ghosts, the KiMo is worth a visit for the architecture alone. I’ve been there before and had no idea about the ghost story at the time—but now I can’t help but think back to the shadows in the balcony a little differently. Whether or not Bobby’s spirit still lingers, he’s earned a reputation—and apparently, a preference for donuts.

The Wool Warehouse Theater: Not Just a Stage Presence

The Wool Warehouse Theater may not look particularly spooky at first glance, but it’s earned a reputation as one of Albuquerque’s lesser-known haunted spaces. Originally built in the 1920s as a wool storage facility, the building was later converted into a performance venue. According to local lore, a worker was accidentally electrocuted during renovations—and some say his spirit never left. Staff and performers have reported strange cold spots, flickering lights, and the uneasy feeling of being watched when no one’s there.

Hotel Andaluz: Elegance with a Side of Unease

Originally opened in 1939 as the Hilton Hotel—yes, that Hilton—Hotel Andaluz is one of Albuquerque’s most elegant historic buildings. With its Moorish-inspired arches, hand-carved wooden ceilings, and lantern-lit lobby, it feels more like an old-world palace than a New Mexico hotel. But some guests say the beauty comes with a strange energy.

Several visitors have reported flickering lights, disembodied voices, or the sense of being watched when no one’s around. A few have claimed their elevators stopped on the wrong floors—or that they felt a sudden drop in temperature walking past certain rooms. Staff tend to keep quiet, but some will admit (off the record) that they’ve had a few unexplained experiences of their own.

There’s no single ghost tied to the hotel, no tragic backstory that everyone agrees on—just a lingering sense that not everyone who checked in ever fully left.

Looking to stay the night? You can check availability on Booking.com or visit the hotel’s official site here.

Hotel Parq Central: Rest, Rejuvenation… and Residual Energy

Located just east of downtown Albuquerque, Hotel Parq Central is now a sleek boutique hotel with plush beds, a rooftop lounge, and views of the Sandias. But before it was a destination for travelers, it was something else entirely—a hospital. Originally built in the 1920s as a psychiatric facility for railway employees, the building has gone through many lives: sanitarium, medical center, and eventually, a luxury hotel with a storied past.

Despite its modern décor and calming ambiance, some guests say remnants of its former life haven’t quite moved on. Reports range from sudden chills and strange knocking sounds to the unmistakable feeling of being watched in the hallways. One guest swears they heard a whisper from the closet. Another awoke to the smell of antiseptic and the sharp clang of metal—like a gurney being rolled across tile.

Like Hotel Andaluz, there’s no headline-making tragedy tied to Parq Central. But maybe it doesn’t need one. Sometimes a place soaks in the energy of what came before—and holds onto it, quietly.

Looking to stay the night? You can check availability on Booking.com or visit the hotel’s official site here.

High Noon Restaurant & Saloon: Spirits with Your Steak

High Noon Restaurant & Saloon sits in one of the oldest buildings in Old Town Albuquerque, dating back to the mid-1700s. Over the centuries, it’s been a trading post, a brothel, and a saloon. These days, it’s best known for steaks, margaritas, and a long-standing reputation for being—just maybe—a little haunted.

Most of the stories center around the Santos Room. Staff and guests have reported lights flickering, glasses shifting on their own, and occasional cold spots with no clear explanation. A few people say they’ve seen a woman in white, though the sightings are brief and never quite the same.

There’s no definitive story behind the hauntings, and nothing especially dramatic in the building’s history. But sometimes age alone leaves a mark.

Haunted Places Across New Mexico (beyond Albuquerque): Ghosts, Legends, and the Occasional Room Key

Of course, Albuquerque is just one chapter in New Mexico’s haunted storybook. Across the state, spirits are said to linger in grand old hotels, military forts, abandoned cemeteries, and remote desert towns. In a place where history runs deep, wounds run old, and adobe walls seem to hold memory the way they hold heat—slowly, and for a long time—it’s no wonder some stories refuse to fade.

Here are some of the most intriguing haunted spots beyond Albuquerque—each with its own mix of mystery, legend, and unanswered questions.

• St. James Hotel – Cimarron
• Once a Wild West saloon where at least 26 people died, this historic hotel is infamous for Room 18—allegedly so haunted that it’s kept permanently locked. According to legend, Thomas James Wright won the hotel in a high-stakes poker game in 1882, only to be shot on his way back to the room that should have been his. Today, Room 18 remains unbooked, left intact as if he’s still staying there. You can visit the St. James Hotel & Saloon website here.
• La Posada de Santa Fe – Santa Fe
• The ghost of Julia Staab, a 19th-century socialite, is said to roam this upscale resort, particularly around Room 256. Classy… but haunted. The hotel even offers a “Julia Staab Ghost Package,” complete with nightly cocktails, breakfast, and a self-guided tour of the paranormal hot spots on the property. Looking to stay the night? You can check availability on Booking.com or visit the hotel’s official site here.
• Fort Stanton – Lincoln County
• This 160-year-old military fort turned TB hospital and internment camp is known for whispers, shadows, and a ghostly nurse who still walks the halls. To learn more, visit the Fort Stanton website.
• Hotel Eklund – Clayton
• Built in 1892, this frontier hotel embraces its haunted history. Room 307 is known for flickering lights, ghostly voices, and polite cowboy specters. Looking to stay the night? You can check availability on Booking.com or visit the hotel’s official site here.
• Dawson Cemetery – Dawson
• All that remains of a coal town lost to two mining disasters, this cemetery is more sacred than spooky—but visitors often feel an undeniable presence.
• Loretto Chapel – Santa Fe
• Home to the “miraculous staircase,” this quiet chapel isn’t haunted in the traditional sense—but its mystery and spiritual atmosphere still linger. To learn more, visit the Loretto Chapel website.

Not Just Ghost Stories

From Old Town alleyways to ornate theaters and quiet hotel hallways, Albuquerque’s haunted places offer more than just ghost stories. They invite us to look a little closer—to see the layers of history, loss, and legend woven into the city’s walls. Whether you believe in spirits or not, there’s something about these places that stays with you. And if you’re still curious, stay tuned. In my next post, we’ll head farther out into the desert, where entire towns have been left behind—but not forgotten.

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Thought for the Week

Walking through Old Town Albuquerque at night—it’s not always the ghost stories that stay with you. It’s the feeling that something happened here. That the place has a history, even if you don’t know the details.

That feeling isn’t just about hauntings. It’s part of how we experience the past—how some places seem to carry their stories in the walls. Sometimes, even before you learn the history, you can feel its presence.

This week’s quote comes from William Faulkner (1897–1962), one of the most influential American writers of the 20th century. A Southern novelist, screenwriter, and Nobel Prize winner, Faulkner is best known for The Sound and the Fury, As I Lay Dying, and Light in August—novels that explore memory, loss, and the blurred lines between past and present. He often wrote about small towns with complicated histories—places where the past was never really gone.

Faulkner’s quote below made my head hurt the first time I read it. But after a few re-reads, I think I got what he was after. It’s that feeling you get in an old place, where the walls feel like they’re keeping a secret. His words capture that strange but real moment when intuition leads and facts follow.

“Memory believes before knowing remembers.”
— William Faulkner

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Thanks for reading and happy travels!

Mark (The New Mexico Travel Guy)

Mark Aspelin, The New Mexico Travel Guy (www.newmexicotravelguy.com), is a travel writer, conservation biologist, project manager, and author of two books. He’s visited over 100 countries and all 50 U.S. states—just enough to land in the Travelers’ Century Club and make choosing a favorite place nearly impossible. He’s currently on a questionable mission to visit every town in New Mexico (there are over 500) and write a story about each one, with plans to wrap it up sometime before his early to mid 100s. Mark balances his writing with conservation and project work from his home base in the East Mountains near Albuquerque, New Mexico.