I walked for HOURS, getting progressively more lost, finding myself each time turning back upon the same alleys. But here's an interesting thing about labyrinths: they are mazes on the outside which walk you through similar, strange twists internally. Anyone who's walked a labyrinth as part of a ritual understands this, I imagine.
I'm not fully certain what happened next, and some of it is not for this conversation, but I found myself out in the woods, not exactly drunk but most definitely intoxicated by something intensely different from what I normally experience.
There was a transit strike, so I spent most of the day at my tent, reading, thinking, and organizing. Also, drinking more tea than one really ought (it'd been DAYS, you know).
Most of the day I was in my head, dreaming, attempting to make sense of the world around me. No--this isn't quite true. Actually, I've been attempting to make sense of the world I left behind, now that there's a continent and an ocean between myself and it.
Returned to the city, bought my train tickets for the next leg. In about an hour I leave for Carnac/Plouharnel, where I've been before. This is the place I've dreamt the most about, and the dream which compelled me to return to Bretagne took place there. It's littered with standing stones and wells and old tracks and chapels, and though I'll be there a few more days than I was here, I'm not sure it's going to be enough time.
I finally found that fountain with the severed head again. I'd circled it repeatedly the day before. This doesn't surprise me.
I may not be able to update for a few days, as the closest internet will be a 45 minute walk away, and I've much to do there.Many of you are in my thoughts, by the way. I miss knowing there are people close by to talk to who know me. I've little time to reply individually to emails, but I've been reading 'em all.