Thoroughly Modern Mimi

     Mimi’s bus trip continued to the Château of Cheverny , a Loire Valley location known for fox-hunting.  Cheverny was built in the 1620’s for Henri Hurault, Comte de Cheverny, the Governor of Blois. The architecture flaunts Louis XIII style, classical symmetry, with five pavilions (divisions) and two roof-top domes.  The 1640’s interior decoration presents some of the finest paneling, painted ceilings, and fireplaces of the era.

Diane de Poitiers, who owned Château de Chenonceau (which Laura and I had just visited earlier that morning), also held deed to a castle on this site. She sold her property back to the original family owners in 1565. The current mansion underwent a major twelve-year renovation during the late 1770’s. The Hurault de Vibraye family, descents of the original builders, acquired the estate in 1825 and have kept it in the family ever since.

Perhpas the facade decorated with sculpted roman busts looks familiar? Cheverny inspired the mythical Château of Moulinsart in Herge’s famous Tintin stories.  (We saw some darling children’s toys and Tintin memorabilia, but I doubt my grandchildren would have recognized the character.  Laura certainly did not recall the story. I recognized Tintin, but honestly have never read the books.)

After entering the main gate, visitors walk down a long, wide gravely path dividing a manicured lawn.  They enter through the small main door, into the lobby boasting a grand limestone staircase with elegant carvings. The ceilings feature finely painted exposed beams creating a lively colorful mood.  The walls are covered with wood paneling decorated with flowers and mottos.  The swanky drawing room dazzles with examples of French decorative arts and period furniture.

We toured the bedrooms including the King’s Chamber where Henri IV slept, the dining room, and armory.  I was impressed by the gracious home-like atmosphere. Some members of the bus tour group visited the private apartments, which were lived in until 1985.  They raved about the interior but time was short and there was too much to see.

Laura and I chose to walk the grounds to the kennels. We heard barking, then found at least seventy dogs of mixed English and French breeds. I’d call them fox hounds. Our guide said feeding time is popular with tourists, especially children who delight in watching the dogs gobble their dinner.

Sadly we missed seeing:  the formal gardens, the organery (where the Mona Lisa was secretly kept during the Second World War), the woodland park offering boat rides and the trophy room- filled with over two hundred stag horns.  Hunts are still held on the property.

But, we must keep on schedule, so tally-ho and away we go.  Next stop-Château de Chambord .

       The Loire Valley is just two hours from Paris and abounds with a wealth of historic chateaux.   Seems the former French royalty discovered this enchanting area made a perfect getaway.  I was ready to join them, even if that meant taking a bus tour.

Laura and I were in Paris so we hopped aboard a bus at 7:15 am, which drove off with about 20 other tourists.  We had two knowledgeable guides who most fortunately understood the need to nap enroute.

First stop was Chateau de Chenonceau which sits not just on the banks but directly over the River Cher.  Chenonceau is often referred to as the ladies chateau as the designers and owners were women.

Upon entering the grounds we walked down a long, sun-dappled tree covered pathway coming to two lion statues acting as sentinels at the gates. Then, we passed the Marques Tower, the oldest standing building remaining from the original fortress built in 1432.  It is exactly what I imagine Rapunzel’s tower in fairy tales to look like.

Our guide led us into the main stone castle through the original wooden doors. This section was built in 1513 but sold to King Francois I in 1535 to pay debts. In 1547 Henri II presented it to his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. Diane loved the chateau and put her feminine touches on the property.

However, when Henri died, the queen (Catherine de Medici) took revenge and forced Diane to take Chaumont (another chateau) in exchange.  In the end, the rivals between these two women created the galleried bridge, the chateau’s most famous feature.  Diane designed and installed a small lower bridge.  Catherine then redesigned a large extension above and thus, the chateau over the river came to be.

Paintings, tapestries, original furniture and other period pieces are scattered throughout the rooms.  Visitors see the guardroom, chapel, bedroom of Diane de Poitiers, and Catherine de Medici’s bedroom.  I found it easy to imagine dancing in the open ballroom of the gallery over the water. The view from the windows was tranquil and calming.

Also we saw Francois I bedroom with a portrait of Diane, a famous staircase and the five queens’ bedroom- used by Catherine de Medici’s two daughters and three daughters-in-law.  Louise of Lorraine’s bedroom on the top floor was decorated in somber black and white for mourning after King Henri III’s death.  She became known as the white queen joining the nuns in white who always surrounded her.

I took this photo of Laura in the upper window balcony because I thought she looked like a princess smiling down on her subjects.

We spent a few minutes in the gardens: one a copy of Diane’s garden, the other is Catherine’s.  Beautiful flowers were blooming and gorgeous arrangements decorated each room in the chateau. Laura and I were disappointed to miss the maze.

Chenonceau is highly recommended.  I would definitely return to this elegant chateau and spend an entire day.  We didn’t have time to take a boat ride on the Cher, which would have made a terrific photo-op.  Also missed the wax museum featuring exquisite period costuming.  The lunch area seemed lovely and goodness, more time to stroll the grounds would have been appreciated.  Most assuredly, if ever possible, I would return at night when the chateau and grounds are illuminated.

          I love Paris and have the urge to sing that famous song while there.  But… truthfully I stifle myself. Anyone who knows me can attest, I have the worse voice in the universe.

So here I was, strolling down the streets of Paris humming until my daughter protested, “Stop, Mom.”

But I continued; I was the child, the one filled with glee.  Chock it up to lack of sleep from the flight, my joy of actually being in Europe or simply the magic that is Paris? 

       We arrived via an overnight plane from Boston, connecting to Paris through Heathrow. A taxi took us to our little boutique hotel, Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais , in the afternoon. 

We stepped in the hotel’s small lobby dominated by (what I learned later) a rare 1792 piano-forte.  Candles and chandeliers created the charm of a private home, circa Mozart.  The English speaking staff welcomed and assisted us with luggage.  And “yes,” they assured us, the hotel offered free wifi. 

 We took the elevator up to our room on the third floor- twin beds draped in white spreads, a desk or make-up area and by European standards a  large, shiny, modern bathroom with a shower/tub and decorative tile.  White hand towels were fresh and emblazed with the hotel logo.

Best part of our room was the window with a view, which I immediately popped open, stuck my head out and took this snapshot.  I saw shops and a multitude of restaurants and cafes, including many ethnic varieties. Mmm.  Was that croissants I smelled?

After a short rest and we took off, happy to discover Caron de Beaumarchais was only two blocks from the Seine. The city sizzled, not from the heat but with activity.  A Sunday afternoon crowd included couples smooching, tourists checking guide books, booksellers standing by their wares and artists at work. Numerous roller skaters zoomed by, not many joggers; perhaps they are more abundant in the early morning hours. How romantic I thought; even if your spouse or love is missing, this city is enchanting. 

The sidewalks along the river felt comfortable because they looked familiar; I’ve experienced Paris so often through movies, TV shows and books. I pinched myself, The sights, sounds and smells were everything I wanted them to be.      

Laura and I crossed a bridge heading for Notre Dame.  We entered through the arched doorway framed by statuesque columns of saints and found the unexpected—a prayer service in progress. To think a historic cathedral over 850 years old was still in use.  I liked that. 

We spied a little diorama showing the medieval construction methods used to build the church.  This glassed in exhibit of tiny workers, oxen, ropes and pulleys should not be missed if you’re traveling with children. 

Sunlight poked through the famous Rose window (stained glass) and outside,the gargoyles kept watch as they have for centuries.  We didn’t have time to wait in the queue of tourists snaking round the corner.  They were ready to climb to the top of belltower, however, Laura and I moved along feeling the city under our feet. 

          We crossed back over the river on a different bridge and were astounded by the hundreds, and I do mean hundreds, of policemen dressed in SWAT gear.  What in the world was happening?  A major demonstration planned? 

No.  Later it was explained that the date, June 21^st, is the longest day of the year and is celebrated as a city-wide Music Fete.

Lisa, an American friend who lives in Paris met us at our hotel.  She navigated the subway, getting off at the Louvre.  We dined with abandon at the fashionable Le Cafe Marley overlooking the Louve’s Pyramid and courtyard.  (See my restaurant review at my food blog: www.bylanderseafood.blogspot.com .)

To start, we tasted a traditional French appertif- Kir Royale (champagne and cream de cassis.)  I was so taken with the location I cannot remember what type of fish I ate. However, I can remember dessert. Laura and I indulged in a chocolate lava cake- oozing a molten center and Lisa chose a raspberry macaroon. 

 We strolled past the Pyramid, through the gardens, an arch and into Place de la Concorde.  We continued up the Champs Elysees all the way to the Arch de Triumph to catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. On the stroke of 11:00 PM, it light up like a huge sparkler, a burst of energy in the distance.  We oohed and aahed but feeling totally exhausted, caught a cab. 

However, the taxi couldn’t get us close to our hotel because of the massive street party. Fortunately I recognized the shops we passed on our ride from the airport and maneuvered through the fete back to our hotel.  We squeezed through crowds like New Orleans during Mardi Gras.  I hugged Laura and my camera close, but the Parisians were a happy crowd.

Needless to say our little room with a view no longer remained a quiet retreat.  All those cafes were now rowdy with revelers.  We were so tired we fell asleep despite the boisterous noise out the window. Funny, but when the crowd dispersed around two I woke up to the silence.  Oh, how I love Paris. 

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Mimi chose Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais on the recommendation of The Provence Post (a wonderful blog) and paid for her own room.