The problem is much deeper than you think

The other day, I was talking to some old friends, and we debated whether to continue the search for the wreckage of the fateful  Malaysian Airlines 370 flight  from Kuala Lumpur to Beijing. You all know that this flight contained all my personal memorabilia, photos, videos, films, clippings from magazines, newspapers, letters, photocopies, autographs, telegrams, drawings, computer media, etc., which corroborate word for word the statements I make in this blog. My true friends know that everything is true, and they vehemently argued that I should not wear myself out, nor spend my money on recovering my mementos. It's not  a question of money, I explained. I recently made a lot of money with bitcoin. I'm not going to say that I was its inventor because I do not need self-promotion, but let's just say that many of the ideas behind crypto-currencies were born in my brain. After a few hours of conversation, I just had to make a bombastic revelation to my friends to explain the real reason for my distress. I do not know if the world is ready for this, but here it goes.

The reader of this blog knows that I am noble of the finest strain, with an ancient lineage. My full name is Count Rodolpho Braga Vervaagen Celsário Cunho França Gontejo de Castra de Paulo Borba Gato Miranda and Cabeza de Vaca Amaralo Von Emmentaal Mandioletsi Romanovo Galhardo Cardoso Pereira Gomes da Costa Chimentão. I am a descendant of the noble Portuguese family Pereira Gomes da Costa, and the surname Chimentão is incidental, a tribute from my ancestor to honor the boss of the port of Xi Men Tao in China. I have to confess that there is another more important cause for the frantic search.

Among my ancestors were some Templars. I cannot reveal their names for very sensitive issues. In fact, in 1306, when Pope Clement summoned the Master of the Templars Jacques (James) of Molay to discuss a possible new crusade and the merger of the Templars, Hospitallers and Teutonic Orders, my ancestor was in Cyprus, the seat of the Order at the time. Jacques trusted him very much, and told him that there was something suspicious behind this summons - it sound like a King Philip the Fair was trying to frame him. It was a forefather of mine who was assigned a very secret mission, which I now only reveal to the world. He would carry from Cyprus to Portugal all the archives of the Order of the Templars, including alchemy, engineering, navigation, military tactics secrets and much of the Order's treasury. And that was exactly what my ancestor did, very successfully indeed. In other words, the archives of the Templars were not destroyed by the Muslim invaders, as everyone thinks.

The official story everyone knows. De Molay was betrayed and arrested on October 13, 1307 and the Templars' Order was extinguished. All nasty Philip wanted was the Templars' money, the 9,000 real estate properties that the Order owned in Europe, plus gold, silver, precious metals, and the encryption and alchemy secrets. France was broke, and it was not enough to expropriate the assets of the Jews. Philip, a member of the Capetian dynasty needed to lay hands on the money of the noble Knights. He arrested all members of the order in France, plus influenced the weak French pope to demand the same from the other Christian kingdoms. In the next seven years, until the cowardly assassination of Jacques de Molay in 1314, in Paris, the Order attempted to survive. The ambitious  French king failed to expropriate the Templars' assets, the Pope gave the majority to the Hospitalers. Anyway, details, details.

The fact is that the Order was extinguished in all countries, by papal bull. But as a phoenix, the Order of Christ arose in Portugal, in reality, a continuation of the Templars just on a smaller scale ... My ancestors took care of the collection that had been transported to Portugal for centuries and it ended in my care. The answer to many questions that afflict humanity lay in these documents and treasures. How to transform simple stone into gold (the philosopher's stone, would the gold found in Brazil be even gold or something else?.), navigation secrets that allowed the Portuguese to become the kings of the seas, how to control the plague, economic secrets, very sophisticated forms of encryption (which I used even in the creation of bitcoin), etc. They would explain if there was any real connection between the Templars and Freemasonry, as well as other secret societies (I will remain silent, try to guess). Everything was in these documents, stored in several chests, which ended with me in Malaysia. They were being transported on that flight, as I was going to keep these secrets in Beijing. My ancestor, who created the name Chimentao had promised to bring the documents and treasures to China, which he considered safer than Europe or Brazil. And it was up to me to fulfill this delicate mission.

Here it is. All said and done. I cannot say what I know, and believe me, I know a lot. A whole lot. My life is in danger, it can blow up in an instant like the 370 flight.  I cannot help myself, Isaid too much again.

Who did it? I do not know. Terrorists afraid of a mega-crusade? The Ilumminati? Who knows. If you are looking for the secrets of the Templars, do not waste your time anymore. The only record that is probably left in the world is in my brain and I'll take it to the grave. You can torture me,  if you want,  I will not open my mouth.

Monegasque frolics

Rainier simply adored me. I mean, Rainier and Grace did. In fact, they use to say that when I went to the principality, the sun shone stronger, the sea was bluer, and Grace's jewelry simply glowed. I am not given to blushing, however, this couple praised me so much I looked like a redneck's neck.

They always insisted that I go to their sophisticated domain during the week of the Grand Prix, especially at the time when I lived in Paris. They often sent a jet to pick me up, full of champagne and caviar.

The year was 1972. I did not want to go to the Grand Prix that year, for  I had just returned from a trip to Annapurna, which I climbed in record time. I was a bit tired for clubbing, casinos and parties galore. Rainier called me:

- Chi-chi (that is how he called me), I am sending the plane to pick you up tomorrow.
- Do not do this to me, Rainier, I think this year I will not go.
- None of this, mon ami. Without you the sun shines weaker in Monaco.
- But this year it will rain, Rainier, and strong rain!
- How do you know?
- Well, I graduated in meteorology, don't you remember, at the Sorbonne.
- Then I'll cancel the GP this year. Without you, it is not fun. No Grand Prix this year!

Because of this threat, I decided to go to Monaco once again. I did not want to spoil the party, but to tell you the truth I liked being pampered by beautiful Grace and Rainier.

Once there, I was walking in the pits and who do I see, Jean Pierre Beltoise, a great friend of long standing, who looked a bit worried. The Frenchman took me aside and confided:

- Rodolpho, I do not know what to do with the BRM. The car is very bad. I think I will retire for good or see if Matra can get me a second car. Would you drive it around and see if you can fix it for me?

When Louis Stanley looked away, I entered the car with JPB's helmet. Indeed, the car was not very good at all. I drove around five laps, and when I saw that Stanley was going to the bathroom (he went to the bathroom frequently), I entered the pits and got out of the car quickly. The mechanics thought I was Jean Pierre, who coincidentally also needed to go to the bathroom like his boss. Maybe the food they ate was bad...

I sat with Jean Pierre and gave him some tips. Improvements in suspension, moving the gas tank around, change the wing settings, front and back. All well was written in a piece of paper, in perfect French, one of the 25 languages I speak.

On Sunday, it rained cats and dogs. I had warned Rainier, who even had rain in his name. Well that is coincidence...

At race time, Beltoise jumped to the front, and would not relinquish first position and won. I was glad to have helped a friend ...

But ...

... I asked a mechanic where was the paper where I had written my tips for Jean Pierre. He told me that JP took the paper to the bathroom, for there was no toilet paper, and he had a gut episode, a terrible emergency.

- Did you change anything in the car?
- No, we left it  the way it was in practice yesterday.

It was not my help after all. It was not a Chimentão day , it was Jean Pierre Beltoise's day ...