deeply dieppe about the way you look

So after an extra week of packing and resting my back to recuperate chez Michelle’s I finally edited down my life into one suit case and a small rucksack of tarot cards. The biggest bonus of staying with Michelle was a restructuring of my eating habits as she is a supremo nutritionist, Michelle McKenzie. She showed me how to change the habits of a lifetime, of over carbing and stressing my immune system. I had also exhausted myself during the live Sound Healing, on my YouTube channel earlier this month, forgotten to wear the healer energy mantle of Odin of the White Raven to protect myself. I certainly won’t do that again in a hurry. I had aged 30 years after sharing my vocal frequencies with 1300 gorgeous people around the globe. An amazing experience though that I cannot wait to repeat here in France soon.

Then finally, on the Day out of Time, it was the moment to set sail and leave my old life behind me. I packed up my studio and handed back the keys and said all my goodbyes. Gorgeous Daniela from Beets, Pulse & Thyme who plans retreats in Romania and also created a 28 day body reset diet, offered to drive me to Newhaven for the overnight boat to Dieppe.

Bonjour De France

I pitched up in France at 5am on the first day of the 13 moon galactic new year. Luckily for me Alex who runs the residence I had booked into allowed me early access to my room. It turned out to be a much better suite than I had imagined. Having not slept a wink on the ferry I rolled into bed and was out cold until the next morning. I awoke and something odd was afoot!

They knew I was there. They had left signs about town of the nouveau English invasion. All the Brits are heading to France just now for their summer holidays now the already closed schools have broken up, because they’re way more relaxed over here about Le Covid.

I decided on this first morning to take my divining rods out with me in order to explore Dieppe. I used just one rod and asked it to guide me to where Spirit wished me to walk. Eyebrows were raised as I followed the rod. Round corners, past a war memorial, along narrow alleyways and then to a great long steep and endless hill. Obliging spirit I walked all the way to the top, which was so very far. Breathless and hot I was eventually made to turn off and traipse up some excessively steep stone steps towards, what I thought was going to be a lovely park for a nice sit down and record a tarot reading. How wrong was I? It turned out it was the cemetery and I was being led to the section marked War Graves. Welcome to France!

Spookily my name derives from a French surname Roussel meaning red and low and behold spirit led me directly to this lovely little cross. Charmed I’m sure. Bless you Louis Roussel, dying 14 days before the end of the First World War.

The thought of poor Louis and all his comrades haunted my mind as extremely sad and wasteful use of lives. His name, Roussel turned up again later but with a transformed frequency this time. I guess he was happy to be remembered. This time he was the maker of that delightful drug of pleasure, chocolate! He was trying to tempt me to indulge in earthly pleasures, so just to please Louis I did. Im so easily led to food.

I was then led by Louis all the way through a charming and very wealthy district of giant Belle Epoch houses scattered across the hillsides. Vast many storied town houses of immense elegance that eventually brought me back to the high cliff over looking Dieppe above the 15th century Chateau.

I had struggled with my heavy bag carrying my singing bowl, crystal ball, camera rack and so much more to do the reading for you all, and I thought that over looking the town would be better than the cemetery. I set everything up, adjusted the camera, sorted out the lighting direction and the angle of the sun, only to discover I had not packed any actual cards!!

So back down the hill I went to collect them from my residence and decided instead to do my first reading on the beach as it didn’t involve anymore steep hills. This time I forgot my microphone and it was rather windy.

After uploading the reading while strolling along the beach paddling in the sea I went in for a proper swim. My first this side of the Channel, not realising how quickly the tide here dashes back in. My bag filled up with sea water soaking my Odin and the Nine Realms cards. However instead of being upset I laughed at my stupidity. All day I had been forgetful and I knew it was a sign that I was learning to relax, which I just never allow myself to ordinarily. But this is not my ordinary life anymore.

Gargoyles

The churches are so old and so gothic here that they are all seemingly reminiscent of their famous cousin in Paris, Notre Dame. Many were confused as to my true location in France. I’m always somewhere slightly between worlds though. I guess this church does look a little in need of repair but this ain’t gonna happen to this baby sadly. This is war damage that ain’t ever being fixed. This place won’t ever be funded by wealthy Catholics and the state to be repaired like Notre Dame in Paris sadly but it has a rustic charm all of its own. Gorgeous gothic rose window though too.

I only recently learned that the British word ‘gargle’ relates to the French word ‘gargoyle’. I had always been taught that those stone creatures were leaping from the rooftops to scare devils away from the sanctuary of the church.

Then I learnt that they are in fact magical drain pipes that gargle as they spit rain water from the rooftops so that it doesn’t soak the sides of the building. Here in the shabby and dilapidated church of St. Remy by my residence, I finally got to understand how exactly this worked. The long jutting bodies carry the water in a vent. This connects to an opening in the mouth so the Gargoyle can spew the water down below, missing the side of the church entirely. I guess since rain was a gift from heaven though, it was seen as cleansing evil.

Saucy

The French are famous for being excellent lovers and yet I had to raise an eyebrow at the name of this breakfast bar where cucumbers are shoved daily through a mincer to extract the juice from within…

So Dieppe was brief and I boarded a train to head to Le Havre for a month long sojourn in Normandie.