March 22, 2005. Mont St. Michel.
[I am in Normandy at Mont St. Michel. It's late morning. Milla is sleeping. Her stomach hurts. Digestive problems she says. Phil and Jenn left two days ago so now I am alone. And friday Eunice will be here. Last night we got to Mont St Michel late and it was getting dark. When we got to the highest point of the mountain, Milla got a strange bad energy feeling and she didn't want to stay in a hotel there. We couldn't decide what to do. Stay on the mountain with 1300 years of history..spirits..or hike 2 1/2 kilometers down the highway to a strip of civilization and hotels. So..we left it to chance and went to see a room on the mountain. A scary looking dark haired man greeted us..and that was the end-we walked the 2 1/2 km. He looked like one of those executioners from the King Arthur days. One of those men who raped women or tortured people in the basements. And after he pointed out the way to another cheaper hotel, a nice gesture, he did this little wink and one dark pupil disappeared for a was sinister. Milla is does have heavy energy. But all built of must be heavy.]