Page 209 - WINE DINE AND TRAVEL SUMMER 2024 LIMA
P. 209

Rosières’ main street, towards Place St
                                                              Pierre and its massive 18th century
                                                              fontaine, the focal point of town. Rosières
                                                              is proud of its recognition as a village
                                                              fleuri, and flowers were everywhere: red
                                                              poppies jutted from tall green grasses;
                                                              lavender-colored wisteria blossoms clung
                                                              to archways, and bight colored geraniums
                                                              tumbled from window boxes. Most striking
                                                              were the town’s eponymous wild roses lin‐
                                                              ing the paths.
                                                                  We entered the grounds of the Institut
                                                              français du cheval et de l’équitation,
                                                              Rosières’ world-renowned equine center.
                                                              The Haras National de Rosières-aux-
                                                              Salines, and its stables were founded by a
                                                              French nobleman in 1767 to welcomed
                                                              horse of all breeds.
                                                                  “You should come back when our his‐
                                                              toric merry-go-round is up and running,”
                                                              said M. le maire with a note of pride. “In
                                                              summer, visitors crowd our streets!”
                                                                  My own family’s history in Rosières
                                                              dates back to the early 1920s, with the ar‐
                                                              rival of Prosper’s daughter Anny, and her
                                                              husband Fernand Cerf, a notary public
                                                              whose home the mayor had promised to
                                                              show me later.
                                                                  We proceeded at a snail’s pace, chat‐
                                                              ting, as we made our way to the house
                                                              where Prosper and Blanche had sought
                                                              shelter. On a back street, the mayor came
                                                              to a stop in front of an off-putting cement
                                                              enclosure. The house looked deserted.
                                                                  “Voilà madame, this is the Gran‐
                                                              doeurys’,” declared the mayor as I stood
                                                              on tiptoe to look over the gate. Having
                                                              contemplated such a moment ever since I
                                                              had translated Prosper’s journal, I could
                                                              barely contain my emotion at being there
                                                              in person. The mayor rang the bell. No an‐
                                                              swer. He rang again. Again, the gate re‐
                                                              mained shut. M. le maire’s jovial demeanor
                                                              changed to concern until a male voice
                                                              yelled from across the street.




                                                                       WINEDINEANDTRAVEL.COM               209
   204   205   206   207   208   209   210   211   212   213   214