However, arriving in Eguisheim exactly on their Annual Winegrowers Festival (Fête Des Vignerons d'Eguisheim) without any previous planning: that is, in fact, a happy coincidence.
On the way from the parking lot to the town center, I noticed something that made me smile on the inside: every street was named after a type of grape.
Passing by the local houses, we observed that nearly all of them had a vineyard on their backyard. And I kept wondering how it must be to live there. You make good wine, so does your neighbor. Having friends over for dinner must be memorable!
Downtown we could watch the whole parade which kicks off the festival. Marching bands played, and everybody wore ancient costumes. Bottle corks were thrown on the crowd and white wine, their specialty, was served freely to anyone with a glass on their hand. Was that paradise? Certainly, yes.
Right in the middle of the town there was a small church and, on top of the church, a stork in its nest. I had never seen a stork before, and it was huge! So, I realized the legend about storks bringing babies had traveled hundreds of years and thousands of kilometers to reach that little Gaucho girl in the mountains of southern Brazil. How could a culture so different from mine had, somehow, make part of me?
Going up the mountain we saw bigger vineyards and we stopped to taste some of the grapes. Every grape with a different color had a smell and a taste which was completely unique. On top f the mountain, there were the ruins of three castles. And from up there, a surreal view of the vineyards which draw on the ground designs in shades of green.
Even today, months later, I still make mental calculations of what it takes to quit my life here and go live in Eguisheim. That is always followed by a sigh.
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Photos by Meiry Peruchi
For the Portuguese version, please go to Meu Diario Lirico de Viagem
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