When in France, we all tend to drink a lot of wine. At least everyone else did. I sat and watched and sipped lemon soda. Nevertheless, I was still excited and interested in visiting the Chateau Sainte Rosaline, where I would be able to visit the wine cellars, perhaps taste a few wines, and then visit the chapel, where they actually have the preserved body of Saint Rosaline 
herself. (Doesn't that sound gory? I KNOW!) Many have tried to visit the cellar and the chapel, but few have succeeded, as it always seems to be closed.In any case, early one morning Lillian and I packed Nicholas, Nathan, and my brother Jamie into the car, and we drove over winding roads to the chateau. It is actuall a beautiful place. One side of the parking lot looks like this - a green expanse of grape vines. If you then turn around, you'll see something that looks
like this - a big read sculpture of something that looks like a person dancing with a ball.Actually, the Chateau displays all sorts of art (what goes better with wine?). I think this is a wonderful thing. But I do have to question the taste of it. I mean, I am not a huge fan of modern art, but I don't wish to dispute it's place in the world. It's just that, it seems to me at a Chateau, particularly a very old one, where they keep the body of a Saint, they might choose art that is a bit more in Harmony with it's surroundings. That's all I'm saying.
In any case, if you're wondering how the tour of the wine cellars were, or what I thought of the Chapel and Saint Rosaline herself... we didn't see them. We chose a Friday because they were closed Mondays, but what we didn't realized was that they don't open until 2:30 PM. That's 14:30. As it was 10am, and we had two small children with us, we simply purchased a couple of cases of wine and then left. I'll be back, though. Oh, I shall return. At about 2:30 on a Thursday.
2 comments:
Cover the boys' eyes when you do go -- Sainte Rosaline all shriveled up is pretty scary
Your father once lured me to Chateau Ste Rosaline with the tale of the leathery, preserved saint. O, he regaled me with tales of how she looked. He said she was in a glass encasedment, much like Sleeping Beauty even though beauty could not be used to describe her. So I went. Over the bumpy roads. Saw the out-of-place modern sculpture. Admired the lovely green vines. BUT NOT STE! NO CHAPEL either. I think this is a myth/fairy-tale/story the locals (your father now being one) tell all the visitors just to get them to go help lift the cases of wine into the car!!!
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