Synopsis

It happened one summer, when Mother and Father wished to go to Paris on their own. At first, of course, I was terribly cross that I was not taken along, but then I thought that trailing after one’s parents through museums would hardly be much fun. Much better to spend the week at Grandmother’s—after all, there I could eat pudding before the savoury, climb the finest chestnut tree in the world, and stay up for as late as possible.
When I arrived, however, it turned out that instead of staying at home, Grandmother had planned for us to explore Härmavere Manor. What could be more exciting! I had already imagined how we would pass our time in a fairy-tale castle and ride horses across the surrounding fields. Yet when we arrived, we found ourselves before an abandoned building of vague colour, its paint peeling away and its windows boarded shut.

A spirited summer adventure, complete with ghosts, mysterious treasure hunters, monkeys, and protesters.