The Broceliande Forest is a legendary place, like Avalon, whose exact whereabouts are uncertain. These days it is considered by some to be situated in the Paimpont Forest in Ile-et-Vilaine in Brittany. Having visited this forest in 2009 to see Merlin’s Tomb, I decided that we ought to look at another of the parts of the forest this time. So, having visited the town of Paimpont for inspiration we decided to head for the Val Sans Retour (The Valley of No Return), which seemed to contain some interestingly-named attractions – not least of which was the Golden Tree, and a couple of megalithic sites.
Our starting point for a walk in the summer sun was the village of Trehorenteuc. We knew that we were probably in for an interesting time when we found that many of the houses and local shops were decorated with murals with a woodland and fairy theme, or were named after characters from the Arthurian mythology – especially Merlin. This bade well. We parked and picnicked at the tourist information office (which is alongside a church reputed to be a resting place for the Holy Grail, no less) and then headed out of the village on foot to the start of the forest paths.
Once inside the woodland we were shielded from the intense heat, but you could see that the forest was usually flowing with streams, but that the lack of rainfall over the last few months had dried up all the shallower beds so that it was now possible to walk along their course from the village right up into the hills above. You could tell that in Autumn or Winter some river-hopping would be required at some points in order to make your way deep into the forest.
As we entered the forest we felt like we had crossed some kind of magical threshold, and that from now on things would get a little stranger. That’s exactly what happened.
On our way to the first of the forest’s lakes we came across some unusually clothed characters who were preparing to leap out from behind trees at some schoolchildren who were learning the stories of the Arthurian knights and the magical witches that were the French versions of the Arthurian tales linked specifically to these woods.
The Golden Tree
Our first stop was at the lake near to the entrance of the woods. Here was the Golden Tree – a modern work of art. It was a bare tree spray-painted in gold! The effect was like a pair of golden antlers and for me it evoked the spirit of Herne the Hunter. Surrounding the tree were hundreds of slivers of sharp rock that had been up-ended to stand vertically, like a forest of tiny petrified trees surrounding and highlighting this mighty central golden wonder. In the bright sunlight the effect was quite impressive, if a little unusual.
Happenstance and the Giant’s Grave
We were following the white and red markers to find the megalithic sites that were at the furthest edges of the forest. This entailed a long walk through the shaded woodland and then up a short steep slope to the top of the rim that surrounds the main woods. Every so often was a wooden sign showing the way to our first site, “L’Hotié de Viviane”, or Viviane’s Abode. Just before we began to climb out of the forest we saw the signpost saying that this site was 1km away, which gave us our bearings. M and I climbed out of the forest and then began chatting about this and that. Soon we were on a rubble track which ended up at a car park. We scoured for further signs and found one which seemed to indicate that an ancient structure might be further onwards down another track. We continued until we reached a crossroads and then stopped. This felt like more than a kilometre! Were we close?
We checked our paltry and un-detailed map and found that we might actually be close to several other sites, so we soldiered on. Soon we saw a sign pointing to the “Tombeau des Géants”, or the Tomb of the Giants. That sounded interesting, so we made a diversion in that direction, making sure we knew how to get back to the crossroads to continue on the ‘correct’ path later.
The Giant’s Grave was only a short walk from the crossroads luckily, and it was wholly in shade from the midday sun. We stopped to cool down and I began to assess the site whilst some other visitors looked around too. There was the main tomb, which was quite long – maybe ten feet in length. Slightly further away, fifteen feet maybe, was what you might call “the lid” of the tomb – a seemingly ‘discarded’ megalith lying at a jaunty angle. All around the site hung ‘gifts’ crafted by pagans and left in celebration of this spiritual place.
Soon the other visitors disappeared, as they inevitably do when they come to look at inanimate stones. I began to do some dowsing. Was it, in fact, a spiritual place? Did it have a Spirit of Place, for example? NO. Oh! Did the site have any subtle energy though? YES. I did some general dowsing for power centres and to check the relative strength of the energies, which was quite low. Yet, so many people seemed to be investing their interest and affection in this place – were they aware it had been abandoned spiritually? An idea began to emerge in my curious mind – could I perhaps invite a Spirit of Place to return here, because the place was obviously being actively worshipped?
I asked the dowsing rods whether this was possible/sensible/had any negative effects. It was possible, was a good things to do, and had no drawbacks. With that news I set about an impromptu ritual to call back the Spirit of Place. I lit some incense sticks and put them at places suggested by the dowsing rods. One such place was in the middle of a pile of leaves at an innocuous spot to one side of the main site. As I stood wondering why that spot exactly, the sun came out from behind a cloud and shone strongly on just that spot – like a magic spotlight beaming onto the incense stick! I placed the rest without questioning. The final stick went next to a tiny sprig of newly-growing oak that was pushing out of the side of the “lid” stone. I felt that was appropriate placement by the rods, considering I was trying to bring life back to the site.
I stood on a power centre and concentrated on the intention to bring back any spirit that wished to serve its duty of looking after the spiritual well-being of this site. I called upon it to come when it was ready, and only to come if it wished to take on the task. I re-iterated that the site was being actively used for energetic worship, and asked that the spirit come to support that work to grow in the future. I stated that whatever had made the previous spirit leave, probably spiritual neglect, was now a thing of the past and that a new phase of spiritual growth was upon our kind, and that this relationship between spirit and man was mutually beneficial once more. With that I felt I had done what I could and we left. As I left I removed the incense and removed my ‘scent’ from the site.
When I got back to England I dowsed to see if the site had been re-occupied. I can report that a male spirit has come to answer this request and so far it has found the spiritual support that it is looking for. I hope that those who visit it also get the spiritual benefit they seek now.
The Imp at the Crossroads
We returned to the crossroads and studied the crap map again. It looked like Viviane’s House should be somewhere nearby, but it was hard to tell how close it was. We chose a path and began to walk again. After a few minutes along this path I felt something was wrong and I stopped. M was looking out the corner of her eyes and she looked unusually concerned. “What is it?” I asked her. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she began, “but I think I can see…an….well, an IMP – and he’s laughing at us!”. This was highly unusual. M is not inclined to say things like this, and so I didn’t quite knwo what to say to her, except, “Let me check!”. I got my rods out and began to dowse. Was there an energetic entity that was following us? YES. Could M see it? YES. Was it well-meaning? NO. Was it trying to mis-direct us? YES. I told M that I agreed with her, and that I had encountered somethign similar in Ireland once – a ‘leprechaun’ entity. Here, ihn France, we had encountered another form of this Trickster spirit, and it was leading us far away from our intended destination.
I put up some protection around the pair of us to ward of further intrusion and mis-direction. I checked the map with fresh eyes – and suddenly could see just how far we had gone away from our intended destination! How could I have been so stupid as to read the simple map so wrong?…..Ah, I knew why really! I told M about how we needed to head back to the crossroads, back to the car park we had passed, and even further, back to the top edge of the forest even! That’s how far we had gone wrong – by about two miles, never mind one kilometre!
I checked my peripheral vision and in my mind’s eye I could see this imp too and the short little swine had a broad grin on his face. I pretended I was none the wiser about his presence and made no remarks about him, but in my mind I knew what I would do. I told M we should head back to the crossroads to “re-assess our position”. We walked for about a minute back up the forest track when I began to energetically “feel” for the connection to the imp at the edge of my aura. I could feel a thread of attachment to me, and assumed there was probably one to M as well. I suddenly swivelled around and began to wind this invisible cord round and around my arm as though gathering in a rope. I felt I had now trapped the imp in my grasp and I formed my fingers into an imaginary pair of scissors and cut the cord that bound us all!
I swear the air lightened. A burden lifted. I felt free-er, more mobile, less….heavy. It was as though I had taken off a back-pack, or emptied my pockets of heavy stones. I re-doubled the energetic protection around myself and M and then performed an energy bomb inside the bubble to be sure that nothing inside of it remained. M watched this little pantomime in silent bemusement. I explained that I couldn’t tell her what I was going to do because the element of surprise was key to its success. Now we both let out a sigh of relief and walked quickly back to the crossroads and all the way back to the point where I now thought the turning was that I had missed.
Noisy guests at Viviane’s house
At a junction just above the forest was a clear wooden sign next to where the rubble track started. It read quite clearly “Hotié de Viviane”. How could we have missed it? I think I now know! We had picked up a cheeky imp at that point or shortly before and from that moment on we were being drawn further away by a trickster spirit. I should have taken precautions before entering this magical woodland, but I honestly thought it was all just made up for the tourists. Now I have learned that this magical woodland area of Broceliande is real and full of spirits.
We visited Viviane’s House at the same time as a noisy bunch of kids and a family with loads of large dogs. Surprisingly they stayed at the site for ages, and I didn’t get a single moment of peace there to do any meditating or dowsing, and we left to return back to the car soon after. How strange – all that effort to find the place and yet when we did find it it was such an anti-climax. Well, you win some battles and you lose others.
Gwas.
