It all started on the Rose Line...

Sept 20, I caught a train from Arles to Paris, and someone called Eric met me off the train. He was hosting through Couchsurfing and I had seen we had a mutual friend, Mercedes. For some reason there didn’t seem to be youth hostels so much in Paris, and I had researched and found Eric in Couchsurfing for this time. This was the first time he had hosted someone, I stayed on a mattress in his lounge and was grateful. The flat was in Montmarte, which is a really interesting area, at rue Myrha

Sept 21, the next day, I wanted to go to the Church of Saint-Sulpice. As it followed the Rose line from Renne le Bains, where I had just been. So I went there, as it was also World Peace Day and I wanted to hold space for the recent passing of a friend Jenny (she had run a cafe in Edinburgh). The Paris Meridian is about 100 metres east of the gnomon in the church. The gnomon, (which is the part of a sundial which casts a shadow) with a strand of brass wire incrusted on it, which represents the meridian line.

This was the first time I felt the energy working through me as a connector, outside the church on an energy point I found. It felt quite powerful. I really didn’t know what I was doing, It just felt right to stand there for a good long time until it had eased. It wasn’t something I had planned to do, I just felt called to this place, and seemed to know intuitively. Its like the energy shifts to stillness, the ease.

This Roman Catholic church is only slightly smaller than the Notre Dame, and is the second largest church in Paris. Also mentioned In Da Vinci Code book by Dan Brown

I only stayed there one night, as then went to stay at Parisian friend Renauld’s flat, that I had met in Porto. It seems he hadn’t gone on a trip he was going to and I was feeling a bit unsettled where I was. We walked and talked, sharing similar interests in ideas in consciousness. Walking to the Louvre one day, was partly overwhelming as it was very full of life and busy on those streets of Paris!

Sept 23, leaving Paris, leaving France this time, au revoir. It seems there was a new part to my journey now, one I didn’t quite understand yet, but trusted what was unfolding. It all started on the Rose Line.

I had organised a carpooling ride, so joined with Celine, driving from Paris to Brussels.