Celine Cremer Investigation # 5: The Twisted Twists of Fate (Part 2)
On 21 April 2026, I walked the Philosopher Falls Trail in north-west Tasmania as part of my psychic investigation into the disappearance of Celine Cremer. Although Celine's remains had been found in January 2026, there were still many unanswered questions that compelled me to visit the location for myself.
In my previous post, I examined the physical aspects of the case and questioned some of the prevailing theories based on my observations on the ground. In this post, I turn to the intuitive side of my investigation, sharing the personal psychic impressions I received while walking the Philosopher Falls Trail and retracing the route Celine is believed to have taken. What follows is a chronological account of those impressions as they unfolded throughout the walk, recorded alongside my observations of the landscape and the locations that repeatedly drew my attention during my investigation into the Celine Cremer case.
The day
After spending the night in Waratah at the Bischoff Hotel, my partner and I set out for the Philosopher Falls Trail in north-west Tasmania at around 10:30 a.m. It was a cold, overcast autumn morning, and the stillness of the rainforest seemed to heighten my anticipation. As we drove towards Philosopher Falls and prepared to begin the walk, I felt deeply connected to Celine and the purpose of my psychic investigation into her disappearance.
Although I knew I was physically safe with my partner beside me, I was uncertain about the psychic impressions I might receive or how intense they would be. Earlier in my investigation into the Celine Cremer case, I had experienced a particularly powerful impression while focusing on the Philosopher Falls Trail, and that experience had remained with me. As I stood at the trailhead, preparing to retrace the route Celine is believed to have taken, I couldn't help but wonder what impressions the landscape might reveal and whether the experience would answer any of the many questions that had drawn me to Tasmania.
The Process
When I conduct psychic investigations in the field, I pay close attention to everything that unfolds around me. In my experience, seemingly ordinary events, chance encounters, and subtle changes in the environment can carry symbolic significance. For that reason, I document as much as possible, recording both the physical events I observe and the psychic impressions that arise as I move through a location.
When I retrace someone's footsteps during a psychic investigation, I often feel as though I am walking between two worlds.
There is the physical world, where I observe the landscape, follow the trail, and experience the environment as it exists today. Alongside that is the intuitive experience, where I attempt to connect with the person's emotions, impressions, and journey through that same location.
As I walked the Philosopher Falls Trail, I wasn't only following the physical path. I was also attempting to retrace Celine's experience as intuitively as I could, remaining open to any impressions that arose while moving through the same environment she had entered.
Retracing Celine's Final Walk
As we arrived at the Philosopher Falls Trail car park in north-west Tasmania, I was already feeling apprehensive.
Almost immediately after we parked, another vehicle pulled into the space beside us. Two people got out and walked towards the entrance of the trail. They appeared to hesitate, as though deciding whether to continue, before turning around, getting back into their vehicle, and driving away without beginning the walk.
The timing immediately caught my attention.
During my psychic investigation into Celine Cremer's disappearance, I had previously received the impression that when Celine arrived at the Philosopher Falls car park, the presence of one or possibly two people had made her feel uneasy. My sense was that she may have remained in her vehicle until those individuals had left before beginning her hike. If that impression is accurate, it could offer one possible explanation for the reported gap of approximately twenty minutes between her arrival at the car park and the time she entered the trail.
Watching the two people leave before we began our own walk resonated strongly with that earlier impression and became the first significant moment I documented during my visit.
At the entrance to the Philosopher Falls Trail stands a beautiful memorial to Celine. Before beginning the walk, we paused for a few quiet moments to acknowledge her and reflect on the purpose of my visit. It was a simple yet moving reminder that this breathtaking Tasmanian rainforest is also the setting of a tragedy that continues to leave many unanswered questions.
As I stepped into the forest, I was immediately immersed in a landscape of extraordinary beauty.
The rainforest seemed alive with mushrooms and fungi of every imaginable shape, colour and texture. They drew my attention at every turn, filling me with awe and curiosity. Moss-covered trees, vibrant shades of green, and the profound silence of the ancient rainforest created an atmosphere that was both peaceful and captivating.
For a time, I became completely absorbed in my surroundings, allowing myself to simply experience the Philosopher Falls Trail before any significant psychic impressions began to emerge. I found myself wondering whether Celine had experienced something similar as she entered this remarkable place—a landscape that, despite the tragedy associated with it, possesses an undeniable sense of natural wonder.
Approximately five minutes into the walk, a flock of parrots suddenly screeched and burst from the trees nearby, as though startled by something entering their surroundings.
Without thinking, I turned to my partner and said, "Someone has joined us."
I wasn't referring to another hiker.
Within the context of my psychic investigation, I was describing the impression I had just received—that during Celine's walk, another presence may have entered the trail shortly after she had begun. The timing felt significant, occurring at roughly the same point in the walk.
The birds' sudden reaction also stood out to me. I interpreted it as symbolically reflecting another presence entering the environment. A warning. My impression was that this may have been connected to the person I had previously sensed leaving the car park and later returning. At the same time, I did not have the impression that Celine herself was aware of this person or of any potential significance at that stage of her walk.
Before beginning my hike, I had spent time using my pendulum to identify an area where I believed a compass might be found. During that process, I received the impression that I would recognise the location because there would be an obstruction across the trail.
That impression remained in my mind as we continued walking.
At one point we reached an area where fallen trees partially crossed the track. Curious, I checked the location against the bearings I had previously recorded. It aligned precisely with the southern bearing I had identified before visiting the trail.
For the remainder of the walk towards Philosopher Falls, I found myself once again immersed in the beauty of the rainforest.
I photographed countless mushrooms and fungi, fascinated by their incredible colours, shapes and intricate forms. Combined with the moss-covered trees and peaceful atmosphere, the rainforest created an experience that felt almost timeless. During this part of the journey, I wasn't searching for answers. I was simply appreciating the remarkable landscape that had also formed part of Celine's final known walk.
When we finally reached Philosopher Falls, I paused quietly to reflect on Celine and the purpose of my visit.
The waterfall drew me completely into the moment. The sound of the flowing water, the beauty of the rainforest, and the stillness of the surroundings held my attention. For several minutes, I was simply present, appreciating the environment and allowing myself to absorb the experience.
Then, without warning, I heard a single footstep on the steel stairway behind me.
The sound startled me so intensely that I physically jumped.
What made the moment so unsettling was that my partner was standing beside me, and I hadn't heard anyone approaching. There had been no voices, no footsteps, and no indication that another person was nearby. There was simply one distinct step on the steel platform behind me that shattered the silence.
In an instant, my awareness shifted from complete calm to full alertness.
From that point onward, my experience of the trail changed.
I felt an unmistakable sense of fear and apprehension that had not been present before. Within the context of my psychic investigation, I came away with the impression that this may have reflected the point at which Celine first recognised the person she had noticed earlier at the car park and began to sense that something was no longer right.
After sharing the experience of the unexpected footstep with my partner, we began making our way back up the stairs from the Philosopher Falls viewing platform. As we climbed, I continued reflecting on what had just happened, remaining open to any sensations or impressions that arose.
About three-quarters of the way up the stairway, I experienced a sudden heaviness throughout my body. It felt as though I was moving against an invisible force, almost as if gravity itself had intensified. Each step required noticeably more effort than the one before. The sensation was unusual enough that I immediately mentioned it to my partner.
At the time, I wasn't sure what to make of it. One thought that crossed my mind was that it resembled what I imagined a loss of physical control might feel like, almost as though someone had been affected by a substance. Another possibility I considered was whether the sensation related to the intuitive impressions I was receiving during the investigation. I couldn't say with certainty what it represented, only that it felt significant.
Once we reached the top of the stairway, I continued beyond the entrance to the falls for approximately twenty metres to familiarise myself with the section of trail that extended further into the rainforest.
The change in how I felt was immediate.
The peaceful sense of wonder that had accompanied me throughout the walk to the falls disappeared. In its place was a growing feeling of fear and apprehension. I became acutely aware of my surroundings, scanning the forest in a way I hadn't earlier in the day. Every instinct told me to be alert. I felt scared and apprehensive.
I had seen and sensed enough.
Although I knew my partner was waiting only a short distance away around the corner, I turned around and made my way back as quickly as I comfortably could. I didn't want to remain in that part of the trail any longer.
We then began our return journey towards the Philosopher Falls Trail car park, following the section of track that runs alongside the historic water race.
It was here that I experienced one of the strongest intuitive moments of the entire investigation.
Without warning, goosebumps spread across the back of my neck and over my head. At the same instant, I heard the words:
"You fucking asshole."
The words arrived with an overwhelming sense of anger that seemed completely separate from my own emotions. They were so sudden and intense that they immediately captured my attention.
Within the context of my psychic investigation, I interpreted this as a significant point along the trail. My impression was that it related to another person's presence and may have reflected the moment Celine first became aware that someone was nearby.
As we continued walking towards a small steel footbridge beside the water race, another powerful shift occurred.
A wave of fear came over me, stronger than anything I had experienced earlier in the walk.
Without thinking, I turned to my partner and said,
"I don't want to go in there. I don't want to go in there."
The reaction felt instinctive rather than rational. I couldn't explain why that particular section of the trail affected me so strongly, but I knew I couldn't ignore it.
Within the context of my investigation, I came away with the impression that this area may have represented a turning point in Celine's experience—perhaps a place where she first felt uncomfortable or unsafe, and may have considered turning back towards the falls.
We continued through the more structured section of the trail towards the bridge over the Arthur River.
Although the landscape remained just as beautiful, my experience of it had changed completely.
Instead of admiring the rainforest, I found myself constantly aware of my surroundings. At one point, goosebumps travelled down both of my legs, adding to the growing sense that something significant was associated with this part of the trail.
After crossing the Arthur River bridge, we began climbing out of the valley.
As the distance between us and the waterfall increased, the intensity of the experience gradually began to ease. For a short while, it felt as though we were simply enjoying a bushwalk once again.
Then, approximately fifty metres beyond the bridge, another overwhelming sensation stopped me in my tracks.
Goosebumps spread across my entire body.
The reaction was so strong and immediate that I instinctively paused. My partner noticed the change in me and suggested we sit down, have some water, and rest for a few minutes.
By then, I felt physically and emotionally exhausted.
We sat quietly on the side of the trail, allowing me time to process everything I had experienced. Gradually, my breathing slowed, my body relaxed, and my awareness returned to the peaceful sounds of the rainforest around us.
It was a welcome moment of calm.
It wasn't long before that sense of calm was broken.
Quite suddenly, I looked up and noticed a man walking towards us along the trail. He was only about four metres away.
The sight of him startled me in much the same way as the unexpected footstep I had heard at Philosopher Falls. A surge of fear rushed through my body, and in an instant my awareness shifted from resting to complete alertness.
What struck me most was that neither my partner nor I had heard him approach.
My partner is exceptionally aware of his surroundings and always mindful of safety, yet even he jumped in surprise. Afterwards, we both commented on how unusual it was. We had heard no footsteps, no voices, and no indication that anyone was coming. It genuinely felt as though the man had appeared out of nowhere.
As he passed us, my attention was immediately drawn to his hands.
His fingers were curled forwards in a way that caught my eye, and I found myself unable to look away. They reminded me of the position someone's hands might naturally take just before reaching out to grasp something. I couldn't explain why I was so focused on them, only that they stood out to me far more than any other feature.
The man continued past us without speaking, and we resumed walking.
As we did, my partner and I discussed where he could possibly have come from and how it was that neither of us had been aware of his approach until he was almost upon us. It was unusual enough that we both continued talking about it as we walked.
Eventually, we reached the point where the fallen trees partially crossed the trail—the location that matched the southern bearing I had previously identified using my pendulum.
I asked my partner to remain on the track while I attempted to walk east towards the second bearing.
After making my way approximately twenty metres into the forest, I stopped.
The terrain quickly became more difficult, and I recognised that I didn't have the equipment, experience or resources to continue safely. Although I was disappointed not to reach the location, I knew it wasn't worth taking unnecessary risks in unfamiliar bushland. Reluctantly, I turned around and returned to the trail.
When we arrived back at the car park, I stepped into the bushes for a wee.
As I looked down, I noticed two beautiful blue parasol mushrooms growing from a moss-covered log.
In that moment, they felt deeply significant to me.
I experienced them as a quiet reminder of Celine—a small, peaceful moment that seemed to bring the day to a gentle close.
As we drove away from Philosopher Falls, my partner and I reflected on everything that had happened, especially our encounter with the man on the trail.
While trying to describe the impression he had left on me, I suddenly heard myself say,
"He was like a wastelander... someone who was alive, but already dead."
The words surprised me.
Wastelander wasn't a word I had consciously chosen, and at the time I wasn't even sure whether it was a real word or simply something that had surfaced in the moment. I couldn't explain why it felt so fitting; I only knew that it seemed to capture an impression that I had struggled to put into words throughout the day.
Even now, I don't know exactly where that phrase came from. I only know that it remains one of the most memorable moments of my visit to Philosopher Falls.
Looking back on the investigation, this visit raised more questions than it answered.
Some experiences felt deeply personal. Others seemed strangely symbolic. A few were tangible events that both my partner and I witnessed together. For me, they became important pieces of a much larger picture.
In my next article, I'll bring those pieces together and explain why I believe these experiences offer important insights into what may have happened to Celine that day. I'll also share how the impressions I received, combined with the physical locations along the trail, led me to a theory about the decisions she may have made and the events that followed.