Visit of castle of Saint Sabine
( ORIGINALLY POSTED IN www.articlesbase.com/destinations-articles/chateaux-de-st-sabine-pouilly-en-auxoise-france-140378.html )
The actual sequence of events that took me to the Chateaux Saint Sabine in Burgundy region, France.
It was late, close to midnight when I felt overwhelmingly tired.
We had been on the road from Lille in northern France en route to southern France’s Cote d’ Azur.
When I saw the next exit, I decided to go for it. It read : Dijon 42 km, Poully-En-Auxoise 8 km.
Driving through the dark summer night I passed several villages clad in total darkness.
No one on the streets, no single soul.
I was getting worried the more I drove on, the more villages I passed.
A faint signboard, I read it : “Chateaux de St. Sabine” 8 km.
Desperately wanting to lay my head to rest, continuing the serpent road that finally led us to the Chateaux.
The dark silhouette that appeared in front of us had – by all standards – gigantic dimensions. No lights – except a faint fluorescent bulb could be seen
when we entered the castle’s courtyard.
Before entering the Castle’s arch the doorbell was the only part lit.
Sonnez. We rang the bell.
In an instance hell broke lose. We heard the heavy barking sounds of what we thought were hell hounds, eerie and powerful.
Frightened by the wild barkings, we entered the main courtyard and stopped the car in front of what seemed the main entrance to the Chateaux.
We could not see anyone, nor hear, except the barking from somewhere in the dark.
Nobody made a move. We were unsure if we should or should not stay.
There was something evil, something scary about this place.
The curtain behind the main Entrance moved, we saw a shadow in white, staring at us in the car.
In a sudden , the door flung open, the shadow appeared. A tiny old dame, her age in the seventies, appeared and asked : Que c’est que vouz voulez ? Mancher, diner, coucher..?
We could not answer at first, our thoughts lingering to the novel of Dumas, his Notre Dame character, Quasimodo. So real was the resemblance, it made us hesitate to leave the car.
Then, with a push I left the car, looking around as if I expected the wolfhounds to pounce on me anytime now.
She introduced herself as ” Madame de Bourgoise”, relative of the proprietere de Chateaux.
Deciding it was too late to wander around in this solitary woods, we succumbed to our fate,
No one knew where we were, if we had reached.
This was eerie in the utmost sense.
Two terrible fangs stared at us of what once were real wolves. Two taxidermic creatures were situated left and right from the escalier, the staircase leading to the bedrooms.
It gave the already scary place an authentic background.
Climbing up the stairs, Madame de Bourgoise showed us to our room, The chateaux was, I found out, a hunting castle for royalty and dates back to the 17 century.
With her candle held in the right hand, Madame was even more eerie looking than at first.
Her left opened a huge door to a room, in which was a bed, which could have accommodated the likes of Napoleon Bonaparte.
I did not care, as I was tired.
Opening the large window, I saw a lake only lit by moonlight. The air was fresh, pure and in the distance we heard cowbells ringing.
The eerie ness had by now given way to a more relaxed sensation.
Leaving the window wide open, I fell asleep soon after.
This is an excerpt of my book which will be published sometime in the future.
From journeys in France, excerpts
HR
