Romance With France – In the beginning – Part 1

Greetings Everyone!

And welcome to the first edition of ~

“Romance With France”

Latest Revision and update – 27/03/19

What can you expect? Well, don’t let the title fool you, it may start out a tad frilly, flirty and fluffy but I plan on delving deep into some very interesting topics, mainly on the subject of France, quel surprise! But not the whole country, no offense France, I love you dearly in your entirety but I’m focusing more on a very particular part which is très riche in history with many an intriguing and foreboding mystery! Truth be told, not much has to do with romance here.., not in the literal love-dovey “mon amour chou chou” sense of the word, even though we all know the French are rather infamous for their razor-sharp romance skills or so I’ve heard but that is a whole other kettle of coq au vin!

The Overview And Backstory

For those who don’t know me, I am an actress, filmmaker, poet/spoken word performer, writer, deep thinker, French history enthusiast and passionate researcher of many mysteries mainly pertaining to a certain region of southern France.  And I admittedly suffer from an inexplicable and arguably unhealthy love and obsession for the place! I’ve tried the Anti-France 12 step program, the France patch, removing all Jacques Brel songs from my Itunes shuffle but “non” dice, I’m officially madly and deeply addicted and fiercely proud of it! Though it’s not too shocking all things considered, I entered this bizarre dimension in New France (Montreal, Quebec), I suppose the influence was all around me from birth. Though truth be told, Quebec is a VERY different beast with its own distinct customs and traditions, mainly Poutine, Paté Chinois, Pâte de Cochon, Chien Chaud (All Quebecois fine dining cuisine)and even the French language here sounds completely different.  Just ask anyone in France, they would be more than “happy” to elaborate! Bouffff!!!

Yet, since I was very young, something beckoned me to return to a place I had never been, my homeland of France, even though I was born in Montreal, Quebec.... très bizarre, non??! And truth be told, I’m not exactly 100% Français, my family tree looks more like the United Nations, I’m a little bit of just about everything, so why this obsession with my 25% Frenchness??

And little did I know, then, what kind of mischief this burning passion of mine would get me into! And that, mes amies, is a very long and complicated story. So here goes nothing! Hold onto your berets, pull up a chaise, grab a cafe au lait and a slice of Camembert and let’s get this sizzling bizarre romance rolling!  Part One is the backstory, a little trip down amnesia lane and then le fun will really begin to heat up! And just so you know, this story is ongoing so there will many new and interesting events to add, especially in the coming days!

 “The First time France And I locked Eyes…It was Pure Magique!”

Being Poetic

The first time I stepped onto French soil, in this lifetime anyway… was in the south, Cannes to be exact. I stepped off the Crystal Harmony Cruise ship excitedly, all those years ago and thought I had died and gone to heaven! I was FINALLY in FRANCE!!! Ooooo LA LA! Cue the French national anthem! Slap on a beret and drive the locals batty! I was also carrying my beloved first child so, unfortunately, France made me a tad nauseous as well, but then again, everything made me nauseous, clouds, umbrellas, tree bark, jazz, paperclips and definitely CHEESE!

I loved Cannes…it was tropical, picturesque! Ohhh the beaches, the sparkling turquoise sea…the historic Carlton Hotel, quaint little shops, happy tourists and very cranky locals! All those historic images of the Cannes Film Festival, I was walking on the very same turf as the biggest super stars ever to grace the screen!! Edith Piaf ‘s La Vie En Rose and mon ami Jacques Brel blaring in every touristy cafe, his ever famous heart-wrenching suicidal hit….”Ne Me Quit Pas” (Don’t leave me)!! It was French Paradis  but how much could I possibly see in a few hours before that annoying boat whistle would screech and I had to pull a Cary Grant and race back to the ship, leaving poor Grand-Maman Janou behind (An Affair to Remember reference for those who are not hopeless romantics like me!)  I knew there was so much more to discover and I had every intention of returning swiftly! Sans question and continue this mysterious and alluring romance with my new beau Monsieur La France! Oui oui…je t’aime!!

Next stop, gay Pariii, (Paris) the City of Lights, a few years later!  It was my birthday, October 31st, Halloween! (yes be afraid, be very afraid!)  It was just as stunning as I had imagined, I had never in my life felt more at home!  But alarm bells began to sound at Hotel Vendôme, something stirred deep within which I was expecting but not prepared for. My heart raced, my cheeks flushed, I had that come-hither look in my eye. I was even poutier than usual. I was thrilled yet morose. Indifferent yet enthralled, over-joyed yet peeved. I wanted to dance ’till dawn yet tell off a total stranger for no reason!! What the hell was wrong with me?? Could this be love? Food poisoning? The French Flu?? Or just the unmistakable fuming stench of French cheese at every turn! What is it with the French and their stinky cheese???????

Place de la Concorde, Paris – Formerly Place de la Revolution

I knew I was in trouble, my French DNA was starting to bubble, toil, boil and grumble! Or was it something else? How could a place I had never been to feel so very familiar to me and conjure such passionate and annoying emotions?  Perhaps the ghosts of lifetime’s past were trying to warn me to run from this newly rediscovered love affair and never look back! Perhaps I should have listened! But sadly I was already “French Toast!”

Back To The Palace At Last

Of course, I boarded the train and zipped over to Versailles, duh! And O-M-G!!!!!!! What a palace!  “Hi Honey, I’m home!!“ Except for the hundreds of tourists milling about, they kind of bugged me. I found Le Grand Palais a tad claustrophobic and uninviting to be honest, though truly a masterpiece of stunning French architecture, perhaps the walls still retained some residue from the not so good old days of the revolution and the next one which followed and the one which followed after that. Good times. Thanks Napoleon, you little social climbing, over-ambitious, short-man complexed brat!

Le Petit Trianon Palace, Versailles, France.

Yet, when I arrived at the front entrance of Le Petit Trianon palace, Marie Antoinette’s little getaway on the palace grounds, where she and the dashing Swedish Count Axel de Fersen were rumored to have snuck off to from time to time, but who I am to gossip? (I’ll save that for later!)

 

 

It had such amazing energy, I couldn’t help but leap for joy! I felt as though I had been magically transported back in time and at any moment I would be hob-knobbing with my favourite queen! There was a much more jovial ambiance there, how do you say?  Joie de vivre. And I got to see the original of that famous portrait of la belle reine painted by the ever popular artist of the day, Elizabeth Vigee LeBrun which I just so happen to have a reproduction of in my dining room which is one of my absolute favourite possessions in the entire world! And yes, like a total 6-year-old rotten brat, when le cranky security guard wasn’t looking, I leaned in and touched the frame! Sshhh…we’re not sure if that may be punishable by death in France! You know how the French can be!

The Hall Of Mirrors

The grand staircase at the Trianon Palace Hotel, Versailles.

 

 

 

 

 

Something inside me stirred but what? I felt as though I had been there before, but now stronger than ever before. Certain places made me so very sad, other places I skipped around like a giddy school girl. Then there was the Temple of Love.…ahhh l’amourrrrrrr….le sigh.  I took so many pictures, convinced I would be needing them one day, for that film I hadn’t made yet, or thought of or even dreamed would ever be possible. Oh yee of little faith!

La Conciergerie, Paris. Where Marie Antoinette was held before her execution, not happy!

Something about Marie Antoinette also rattled me. Oh yes her tragic demise haunts my dreams, even traumatizes me as I write about it now. I’ve imagined her horse-drawn cart ride through the hostile streets of Paris all those years ago, hands tied behind her back like a common thief, the crazed blood-thirsty mob shouting obscenities at her and throwing things. The unimaginable thoughts which must have been flashing through her tormented mind, the fear of what would become of her two young innocent children, her sweet son Louis and once future king, le Dauphin and her poor daughter Madame Royale, both so vulnerable and imprisoned by total bloodthirsty barbaric lunatics. As a mother, I cannot even imagine that pain and anguish she endured.

 

I often think of that horrid moment as she nervously climbed up the scaffold to that all too efficient killing machine, La Guillotine, knowing full well her end was inevitably near. And that story of her accidentally stepping on her executioner’s foot, Sanson, and graciously apologizing, to the man who would be dropping the blade upon her neck. This speaks volumes to her class and grace until the very end.  And don’t even try to say that she deserved it. I will have none of it!! I don’t believe anyone deserves that fate, peasant nor queen, nor anyone in between. I could write a book on what I feel really happened during the revolution, the story which no one wants you to know or hear. A story which perpetuates today on many levels, the same gang still running the show behind the scenes. She was merely a scapegoat, she committed no crime other than that of being a royal and living in the same manner in which all who came before her did. The negative propaganda began long before the day she died and they all ate it up like their stinky rotting cheese. It is a known fact that her brother-in-law, le Comte de Provence was instrumental in churning out the hate-filled lies about her and her husband, his own brother. I will do a separate blog on all the research I’ve done on his involvement in the fall of the French monarchy, it’s quite the sordid and shocking affair. He really was a nasty piece of work!  Trust me, as much as it pains me to know how the people of France were suffering, this had nothing to do with them. Their suffering was used merely used to fuel the fires of deception and greed. Starving peasants could not bring down a monarchy, that takes money, skill, planning, scheming and most of all power. This story goes far deeper and darker and touched several countries and their noble families. No matter which side of the royalist/anti-royalist fence you may be on, even if you loathe royalty more than anything, the revolution and all the atrocities which ensued against both royals and the citizens alike,  never had anything to do with feeding nor freeing the starving French masses, it’s time the truth be known. And the lascivious hateful smear campaign against her especially was an insidious and highly effective pack of lies to further a covert agenda, Bonaparte merely the little front man and petit marionette to a more clandestine evil group. I feel the same way about what happened in Russia over a hundred years later, very similar and even more barbaric, even executing the children, just shameful.

Marie Antoinette being led out of her prison cell by Sanson the Executioner in my film “Let Them Eat” – Mark Camacho plays the Executioner

Back To Paris – Present Day

I feverishly scribbled a poem at my hotel that night, sitting down in the bar at the Intercontinental just past Place Vendome. With some angry sheik having a suspicious meeting at the next table, yelling in Arabic, while his several bodyguards kept a very close eye on me suspiciously, hands in their jackets, at the ready, as if at any moment  I might pull a Femme Nakita move and beat him to death with my notebook and pen. Don’t flatter yourself Monsieur Le Sheik, I had far bigger poissons to fry!

The Escape

Alas, “Forgotten Queen” the poem was born! The poetic life story of Marie Antoinette flowed like creme caramel from my plume. I felt like somehow I had paid homage to my poor maligned queen by writing about her. And little did I know what an adventure I was embarking upon with that poem, one which would change the course of my life forever!

The dramatic and poetic pose!

Poetry

The dreaded “P” word was once revered as a true art form with mystical powers and the ability to access certain sacred knowledge passed down from those before us. Yet now, people roll their eyes and run like the wind at the mere mention of it! Yet, truth be told, it has a way of opening doors or portals if you will to other realms or dimensions, which are normally firmly sealed shut. Those soulful poetic verses stream together and seem to poke pinholes within the very fabric or veil, beyond this realm, so to speak, into other dimensions, allowing the truth-filled light to peak into the otherwise darkened oblivion of our normal everyday reality. Just ask the Troubadours!

Yes, that trip and a few trips after that were fabulous, decadent,

5-star restaurants and hotels. Très chic shopping, the famous Regine’s night club, me, sporting a ridiculous amount of plumage! Museums, Cathedrals, Notre Dame, in particular, was quite the experience, the Paris opera house, good God that was stunning!  All the fun tourist stuff but something was missing. There was the knawing underbelly, that thing called Truth which I was seeking yet not quite finding. There was something brewing beneath the surface which I couldn’t quite put my French manicure on. I could almost hear the whisperings but could not quite understand the language, thought that would come in time.

You see, mes amies, when I was a wee one, back on that farm in southern Quebec, I had an odd issue. I insisted, at the tender age of 3 or 4 that I did not belong there. I demanded to be returned to The land where the castles were far far away, across a vast ocean! I demanded my name be changed at once to Bianca and loathed my own name! (Later I would find out that my name actually meant “The Grey Fort” or castle.)  I convinced myself that I had a well-to-do family somewhere, out there who were frantically searching heaven and Earth to find me! Where on Earth would I have gotten such a bizarre idea?  A precocious child, so they called me. “Different” was mentioned often, odd, strange, unique if I was lucky and a lot of marching to my drum.  But what in Le Dieu’s name possessed a wee little farm girl to have such an outlandish notion? Overactive imagination they said…a tad dramatic, whomever “they” were had a very valid point. I was certainly not your typical garden variety, egg collecting, cow feeding, vegetable picking, manure shoveling, farm girl. This cowgirl had ideas, big dreams, strange visions, haunting memories, gifts, strange views on life etc. Was it a mere coincidence that every house we lived in growing up was ridiculously haunted? Really? Perhaps it wasn’t the houses but more-so me who was haunted! Ok, so perhaps I was an odd duckling after all, my mother Mary was right! She did whisper to “Let It Be” on more than one occasion!

My glamourous days back on the farm –  La Princesse de la buquette!

But back to France, Paris was awesome but where oh where were my castles?  This mysterious land with Castles upon every hill?  Yes, I found the palaces, those were mind-blowing but that was different! Those who know me, know exactly where I am going with this, those who don’t, you’ll just have to wait! There was another location I had yet to discover upon the French map but it would take me some time to sort out the coordinates and navigate through the turbulent seas of life, family, my acting career, all sorts of trials, tribulations, personal revolutions,  some awesomeness and some not so awesomeness, before I would find myself at ” Le Chateau de Ground Zero.”  

Lights, Camera, ACTION!

And yes, I finally did shoot that film about Marie Antoinette – Let Them Eat (NO cake, she never said that!!) and that was quite the adventure!  And it all came from that one little poem I had written years earlier in Paris. I managed to gather up a meager budget and somehow pulled off recreating my own little French revolution in a small rural town in upstate New York (where I lived at the time)! It certainly gave the locals something to gossip about down by the OK corral.  I even made headlines in the local paper! (The Press Republican) Doggonit! Stardom at last!

I still have no idea how I pulled it off with so many crazy things going wrong.  I was convinced the shoot was cursed by the ghosts of revolutions past. There was even a mutiny among the crew, the smell of death was in the air. Those who don’t know, film crews can be tricky, they can turn on a dime.  But sheer determination and hard work on the part of a very tired and fed up cast and crew, (even the ones who drove me to the brink of insanity) we did it, got it in the can as they say and no one lost their head!  And I won’t even get into how I managed to smuggle my cast, crew and equipment across the American border, (blink blink) there are some secrets I shall take to the grave!

The all-time low was when my romantic lead, Axel de Fersen, out of nowhere decided to up and walk off the set and head north back to Canada.  Nothing bad happened, no argument, he just left.  My heart sank as I realized he took with him the much-needed ending of my film which we had yet to shoot. If you watched the above scene, you will see that he didn’t quite live up to his promise! 🙂

A snippet from the film’s soundtrack

All was lost or so it appeared. Though always the consummate professional, I kept a French upper lip, adjusted my diamond tiara, took a deep breath and when no one was looking, I repeatedly smashed my powdered wig against a stone wall. These are the days they don’t tell you about on Entertainment Tonight!  The shoot was challenging, merely 4 insanely long days 16- 18 hour days when we needed at least 12 but we managed and pulled off a miracle. I was so proud of my cast and crew and relieved that no one actually killed me. I neglected to mention, both Satan and God (portrayed as female, of course) made an appearance in the film which may explain the many conflicts.

The most recent trailer

And lest we forget the big premiere in Montreal, it went off without a hitch, the film was a huge success and I was absolutely tickled pink…. so pink in fact that I turned blue when the standing ovation turned to suffocation. For what seemed like no good reason, I went into severe anaphylactic shock immediately after I took my final bow (how poetic) then rushed frantically by ambulance to the E.R with my airways nearly sealed shut….really? Was that absolutely necessary? The party sandwiches were under suspicion as the guilty… party,  though time would alas reveal the true culprit. It was far more sinister than we could ever have imagined! Though there would be numerous more near-death experiences before we could pinpoint the perpetrator.

 I then released it to DVD for all the world to see….well maybe not the whole world but it did create quite the buzz in the Marie Antoinette online circles which is kind of something.  It got rave reviews after the premiere in Beverly Hills at the famed Friar’s Club!  Oddly, Sophia Coppola had produced a film about Marie Antoinette at the exact same time which kind of assisted my publicist in spreading the word!  Each critic who reviewed it drew comparisons and surprisingly had some lovely things to say about my little homegrown labour of love!  I was glowing with pride!

 

Selected scenes from Let Them Eat

And then I started meeting some very interesting people,  those who would guide me and steer me in a whole new direction.  In one of the Marie Antoinette forums, I met a lovely author by the name of Elena Maria Vidal who wrote an amazing booked called “Madame Royale” who was Marie Antoinette’s daughter and only known survivor from the family.   Although some say le Dauphin, her son, escaped and was taken to New France and raised on a Mowhawk native American reservation though the rumours were plentiful after the revolution and there were many pretenders so it’s anyone’s guess. However, in my research I have found some rather compelling evidence that would lead me to believe that he did, in fact, reach New France’s borders to safety, I can only pray this is true. Some say his descendants are still in the area.

It was in that book that I discovered a not so famous royal by the name of La Duchesse de Berry. Though truth be told I was rather familiar with her already, having the overwhelming feeling that I had met her in several vivid dreams over the years.  She was Princess of the two Sicilies and married Le Duc de Berry, the future king of France after the restoration of the monarchy. Though while pregnant with their second child, (le Comte de Chambord), her husband was murdered on February 14th, 1820 on the steps of the Paris Opera house. This crime was carried out by a saddle-maker by the name of Louvel, who stabbed him and he later bled to death in his pregnant wife’s arms. Later I would uncover a rather concerning connection linking Louvel to le Duc de Berry’s uncle, le Compte de Provence. Clearly, Louis and Marie Antoinette were not the last who would fall victim to his murderously ambitious ways but I’ll save the sordid details from another blog, I found it all so very jaw-dropping personally! And all while I was researching my own family history.

This was all so very tragic though not all that uncommon for those who bore the arduous weight of the royal crown atop their heads and those who possessed royal blood within their veins. Always enemies at every gate.

I tried for years to put a name to that face,  after so many bizarre and very troubling dreams and finally, there she was, within the chapters of a book I never would have found had it not been for my film! There is another chapter to this story, the one which started it all, the one which led me to try my luck at past life regression years earlier though that story is a book in of itself and read literally like an Italian opera, but we’ll save that for another time.

La Duchesse de Berry – Maria Carolina

Her story leaped off the page as if I reading familiar stories of an old and dear friend, from the good and the not so good old days. Including her endearing and enduring passionate love affair with the dashing and smoulderingly handsome Italian Count, Ettore Lucchesi-Pali from her homeland of Italia.  She even was imprisoned at La Citadelle de Blaye in the Bordeaux region of France during her exile when she attempted to single-handedly march back into France and claim the French throne for her young son Henri, Le Comte de Chambord.  The life stories of her and Marie Antoinette, her great aunt seemed eerily parallel, mirroring each other in so many ominous and so very familiar to me. Yet, luckily for her, she was fortunate enough to have found a much happier ending which is not all that common with royalty, then and now.

Count Ettore Lucchesi Pali – second husband of La Duchesse de Berry – and total dreamboat!

I met so many interesting people online during that time, people who saw my film and reached out to tell me their thoughts, feelings and many opinions.  Many claimed to have a strange connection to the story and to Marie Antoinette and were rather moved by my film. I was humbled by the response for the most part and blown away to see just how many people are so drawn to Marie Antoinette from around the world.

There was another chapter in the book Madame Royale which would have the biggest and most profound impact on me, one might say it was that chapter that in a roundabout way led me to the point I am at now.  The author traveled back in time to a not overly talked about passage in history, most have never heard of and some wish they could forget. I for one shall never forget, now that I know.  Hearing their name, hearing of their fate and all which happened during that black stain in France’s history would alter my path forever. This was the missing link… the game changer. This was the new and exciting direction which would send me navigating south, far away from the lovely palace of Versailles and Paris to a remote region very foreign to me, yet would quickly become like home, even more so than my own home in many regards. And so begins this new journey…. to a far off medieval land which appears lost in time.

The Cathars

In the 1200s, deep within the heart of  Languedoc, France, ( then Occitania), the Roman Catholic church waged a tyrannical savage crusade against a peaceful Christian sect they referred to as The Cathars or les bon hommes, (the good men or good Christians.)  These people lived quietly, they disturbed no one, they were healers, very spiritual, who lived modestly in the mountains and foothills of the Pyrenees. Yet, to the church, they were a great threat for many reasons, most of which were.  They had a more gnostic view of Christianity which was not in favour with Pope Innocent III , thus he and the church, with the assistance and support of the French King, would  deem them “heretics” whom, so said the Pope, needed to be cleansed of their sins or in simpler terms, barbarically and systematically hunted, tortured beyond what the average mind could possibly comprehend, interrogated, butchered or burnt alive at the stake, along with thousands of Catholics who got caught in the crossfire.

Taking a break from sobbing my face off on my first climb up Montsegur.

I had a very difficult time getting through most of the terribly disturbing stories. They shook me to the core, resonating deep within my soul in a way which was rather foreign to me.  As a very compassionate and empathetic person, I am unable to comprehend how anyone could cause such terror, agony and suffering. Thus, hearing the grotesque tales of how they joyously butchered young children or how they threw these innocent people upon the pyre to suffer an agonizing death is just beyond what my heart can bear.  Even now I feel compelled to hold back from recounting some of the more grotesque stories for I just can’t stomach the thought of bringing those despicable actions back to life, they don’t deserve the attention but I feel strongly that the Cathars story both deserves and needs to be told and remembered now.  And incredibly, the foothills of the stunning picturesque Pyrenees mountains are literally covered in what are now the ruins of their mighty Cathar Castles, les Chateau Cathares, still standing proud and majestic, yet show the painful battle scars of past conquests. And thus, after a lifetime of searching, I found The land where the castles were!

The famous Cathar Castle atop the very mysterious mountain of Montsegur

Those endless dreams of castles perched high upon mountain scrags, under siege. Those beautiful mountainous views which literally made me break down and sob when I finally saw them in person. That inexplicable longing, that deep sorrow for something I didn’t understand just got a whole lot clearer.  And I knew, without question, I needed to return in haste and figure out this mystery, enfin.  

But there was something else brewing in the cassoulet pot, what I didn’t mention as of yet were the bizarre, haunting and even traumatizing dreams of the woman in the white dress or as we say in French, La Dame Blanche, how did she factor into this tale? And why was she haunting the hell out of me?  I was intent on sorting this mystery out.  As I did some research, I stumbled upon a place, a place like no other and nothing….and I mean NOTHING could prepare me for what I would soon be unraveling, detangling, unearthing and discovering.  And apparently, I wasn’t the only one with this bizarre interest/connection. Oh no! There were many of us on similar quests and we all seemed to be bizarrely interconnected, whether we liked it or not in ways which seemed to defy logic or even at times sanity! I realized that I had been in fact writing about this place without realizing it, it was right underneath my nose yet remained in the sinister shadows until I was good and ready to find it.

Rennes-le-Chateau

First time touching La Tour Magdala

At first glance, it appears to be a rather unassuming quaint little pinprick on the southern end of the  French map but looks can be deceiving! There are so many strange legends and tall tales attached to this place that it defies all logic. Dan Brown eluded to it in his bestseller  “DaVinci Code” which of course was fiction yet, there were more than a few tidbits which rang true. He didn’t mention Rennes-le-Chateau by name but he might as well of.  His story was eerily similar to a well-known book called Holy Blood Holy Grail was written by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh and Henry Lincoln which claims to be anything but fiction.  It speaks of a royal bloodline of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene and how this little town and the surrounding area factors in and holds sacred clues to this forbidden mystery.  Even the landscape its self tells it’s own bizarre and mystical story in what is referred to as sacred geometry, which our dear friend and tireless researcher Henry Lincoln, co-author of Holy Blood Holy Grail has pointed out in many books which followed.  It’s as if nothing about this place is random, everything appears to have a certain order for deliberate reasons. Literally, the whole landscape of this area is telling us an ancient story, but what? Oh but the real truth lays far deeper beneath the surface, so to speak and much more complicated. It’s like peeling back the many layers of a seemingly infinite onion, the more layers you peel, the more layers appear and the more confusing the story becomes.  One must take a leap of faith to go down this mystical path and just let go of all you think you may know and allow yourself to plunge headlong off the logical ledge of everyday reality into a murky, bizarre and mysterious abyss.   And this, mes amies, I will be delving into in much more detail in future blogs but for now,  just a quick overview for those not yet familiar. And a fun little video montage I put together from this mysterious town so you see it up close and personal.

Inside the Mary Magdalen church in Rennes-le-Chateau, with yours truly snapping a pic.

 If you look throughout history, you will notice a common trend, if someone was “someone,” they undoubtedly found themselves either passing through this remote place or even living there or nearby.  I don’t have the complete list available though off the top of my head there was, of course, Mary Magdalene, the legends are endless though not just in that town, but all over the entire region and many monuments to her honour can be found.  So it would seem logical that she must have been there at some point and was greatly loved and revered.  We will touch upon the church’s smear campaign at a later juncture.  Some even say Jesus himself made an appearance though I cannot confirm nor deny said allegation. Of course, the Romans were there but they were everywhere.  The Visigoths made an appearance, once they sacked Rome and stole a mysterious treasure, where did they go? Yep, you guessed it.  Same can be said for the Knight’s Templar whom also got their hands on a mysterious treasure and became incredibly wealthy and powerful overnight. Though they found their treasure in the Holy Land but still managed to make an appearance here.  There seems to be a common golden treasure thread in this story.  The Merovingian Kings were said to be afoot, especially  King Dagobert ll, but that is a much longer story which connects to this mystery. Blanche de Castille was rumoured to have hidden a great treasure in or near this town. This elusive treasure will be mentioned over and over in this story. The mystical Celts were all over that region as well.  There are even rumours of Thomas Jefferson being at least nearby, in a small town called St. Feriol but I would bet my beret he was there, what was he up to? That we shall delve into later.  Oh and remember Le Comte de Chambord? La Duchesse de Berry’s son and last known (Pretender) heir to the French throne? Yes, he would have an interesting link to this place as well.  From royalty to politicians, to celebrities, poets, authors, famous painters, singers, mystics, secret societies, government officials from all over, royals, treasure hunters. And many who just ended up there, with no idea why…something just drew them there like unsuspecting moths to a mighty and magnetic flame.

And of course,  lest we forget the most famous story of all, one which would captivate and mystify generations to come.  The now infamous Catholic priest Berenger  Sauniere, the penniless priest of Rennes-le-Chateau, who claimed to have discovered ancient parchments while renovating his run-down little church, which then, as legend would go, led him to a mysterious treasure and overnight became excessively wealthy, sound familiar? And thus, the tall tales of a vast gold treasure spread like a plague across the globe and many a treasure hunter flocked to find their fortune.  It was never revealed what Sauniere actually found though we do have our theories…. but in the years to come, his actions and the actions of those around him were said to be anything but normal nor priestly. He led a rather extravagant life for a priest, popular with the ladies as well, he was very close with his young live-in house-keeper Marie Dénarnaud and he even is said to have had a torrid affair with a famous opera singer of the time, Emma Calvet. Though some say his brother Alfred, also a priest, was even more notorious with the ladies, with the drink and even thievery of some VERY important documents from the local noble family! Those French priests!!

He left us clues, ciphers, encrypted messages which have intrigued and baffled all who have gotten involved for over a century since. They have even driven many to sheer madness and for several who perhaps got too close to the proverbial flame, either vanished or died mysteriously, including poor Sauniere himself or so they say. But much much more on that later!

In the museum of Rennes-le-Chateau, the creepy wax figures of Abbe Berenger Sauniere and his assistance Marie Darnaud.

Even the nasty Nazis were there during WWII, combing the area and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Especially the caves of Mont Bugarach close by, which is a very mysterious mountain with its own folklore and ominous tales of intrigue, mystique and of course mysterious deaths and disappearances. Yet another subject we will be delving into at much greater length.

Otto Rahn, the writer and occult researcher was hired back in the 1930s by the Nazi party to find a treasure in Cathar Country, some say the Ark of the Covenant or even the Holy Grail itself. Though the exact contents of this elusive treasure have never been confirmed, publicly anyway. This would be the same treasure the Catholic church was trying to liberate during the Albigensian Crusade. There are many stories connecting the Cathars with a mysterious treasure as well, which was said to have been hidden in the remote Chateau Montsegur during the last horrific days of the Crusade though it was mysteriously never found. Or the one the Visigoths were said of have brought back from Rome or the one the Knight’s Templar liberated from beneath the Temple Mound and so on. Though perhaps the real treasure has little to do with gold and more to do with….more on that later.

 Many say Otto found more than he bargained for and paid the ultimate price, his death was a tad mysterious. Many say he did indeed find something of significance. Some say he may have but concealed it from those murderous monsters because he understood the power it had and knew the Nazis should never get their grimy paws on it.  I’ll save what I think it is for future blogs when I delve far more in-depth into all these mysteries and so much more with my strange Romance with France.  We haven’t even begun to scratch the surface! And there will be some very interesting new developments coming up very soon so be sure to come back!  But I must caution you, once you’ve taken the plunge and been bitten by this mystery’s “Gold Bug,” (homage to my old friend Poe) you may never be the same again!!

Rennes-le-Chateau – The Darker Side

And as a little teaser for my next and final video from my last trip to this mysterious land of mystery and intrigue, I am feverishly working on finishing up piecing together the lost video footage I swore I never would share! Well, it’s a woman’s prerogative….

This is a quick little video from the hotel I was staying in Rennes-le Chateau where I had some absolutely BIZARRE and creepy experiences and you can see how bugged out I am! In the upcoming video, I will delve much deeper into what really happened during my eventful stay there which was, at times hair-raising but only after the sun went down and the darkness crept in.

Scardy-Kat Walk – Rennes-le-Chateau by Night!

Speaking of which, stay tuned for some news on the infamous “Devil By The Door.” Yes, Asmodeus or Asmodée, the daunting statue by the door in the church in RLC will be making an appearance soon in an upcoming blog, with the two year anniversary quickly approaching of his shocking decapitation by a crazed Islamic extremist woman in a costume, wielding an ax! Never a dull moment in Rennes-le-Chateau!!

Asmodeus before he lost his head…for the second time!!

Stay tuned, much more to come!!

Rennes-le-Chateau, France

Au Revoir mes amies!

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And lastly, the romantic extended version of “My Troubadour”, inspired by my romance with southern France. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.