Savannah Haunted Pub Crawl: Ghost Stories & Historic Bars Tour

Summary

Ghost Tours & Cocktail Walks in Savannah’s Historic District

You’ll wander Savannah’s most haunted bars with a lively guide, sip cocktails, and hear real ghost stories that’ll stick with you long after you leave. It’s part history lesson, part pub crawl—and all Savannah.

Step-by-step itinerary

Day 1 — Savannah Haunted Bar Crawl

• Meet at Flip Flop Shop, 100 Bull Street
• Visit haunted bars and historic district

Top questions

How many bars do we visit on this tour?

You’ll stop at four or five different bars along the route, each with its own story and atmosphere.

Is this tour suitable for people who don’t drink alcohol?

Absolutely! You can join for the stories and order non-alcoholic drinks at every stop if you like.

Are there any age restrictions?

You need to be 21 or older to join since we’ll be visiting bars and drinking along the way.

Will we see any actual ghosts?

No guarantees there! But you’ll definitely hear some wild stories—and maybe feel a chill or two.

What’s included

Your guide leads you through Savannah’s Historic District with stops at several haunted bars (drinks not included), plus a light-hearted “cleansing” ritual before you head home. Service animals are welcome, and public transport is close by. Just bring your curiosity—and maybe a little courage!

What’s the experience like?

The first thing I noticed stepping out of the Flip Flop Shop on Bull Street was the way the air felt—sticky, with that faint sweet scent you only get in Savannah at dusk. Our guide, Jamie, was already cracking jokes as we gathered, and I could tell right away this wasn’t going to be your average history walk. We set off down the cobblestones, dodging the occasional pedicab and weaving through clusters of locals heading for happy hour.

Our first stop was Savannah Taphouse. The bartender slid over a cold pint and, as I took my first sip, Jamie leaned in with a story about a former patron who supposedly never left. You’ll hear the creak of old floorboards and maybe catch a chill—though that might just be the AC fighting the Georgia heat. From there, we wandered to Abe’s on Lincoln, where napkins covered in doodles line the walls and the regulars swap their own ghost tales. By the time we hit 17hundred90, I could swear I felt someone brush past me on the stairs—maybe just my imagination, or maybe not.

Between drinks, we strolled past shadowy squares and paused outside McDonough’s, where the guide pointed out a window with an odd flicker of light—locals say it’s haunted by a piano player who never quite finished his last song. There’s something about sipping cocktails from Togo cups while hearing these stories that makes you look over your shoulder just a little more often. At the end, Jamie offered a quick “cleansing”—just a little ritual to make sure none of Savannah’s spirits followed us home. Honestly, I slept easier because of it.