Chenonceau

The morning before we went out to see the chateau at Chenonceau, we went back to Loches because it was so charming and the students wanted to see more of it.  This church's whose main claim to fame is that it houses the tomb of one of the king of France's official mistresses (the most beautiful one, as the requisite plaque informed us).  Does anyone else find something doctrinally incongruous about that particular set of circumstances?

E smells the flowers, palmier in hand, at the Saturday morning market in Loches.  The flowers in France... ah, the flowers.  You can get 20 gorgeous roses for 5 euro (or $6.50 US).

Our visit to Chenonceau has been unquestionably the highlight of our travels so far.  Before we even got the chateau itself, we explored this fun labyrinth with some of the students.  Super-charming, and I'm certain that the queen must have been a bit of a dimwit because this must have been the easiest labyrinth in the entire world.  I think you could get to the middle no matter which direction you took.  Wouldn't do, now, to have the royal highnesses lost among the hedges!

There's a little gazebo in the middle of the labyrinth.  As a reward for "solving" it, you get to see where you've already been.

Draw your own conclusions about what kinds of the problems the groundskeepers have been reporting to the chateau administration.

I don't recall exactly what this is, but it's part of the complex at Chenonceau.  Let's say it's the out-house, or the gardening shed (for storing the lawnmower and rake, you know).

Just a small portion of the formal gardens at Chenonceau.  The barbecue area, perhaps.

That's the chateau itself, with some more of the front yard.  Hate to be the postman trying to find the mail box.

 

And as you can see, the chateau actually crosses the river.  Ingenious.

The prettiest corner of the formal gardens, and some of our students in the foreground.

Inside the chateau, it was marvelous to see all the old rooms.  But I lamented quietly to myself (and verbally to H) that centuries of visitors have worn away the glazed pattern on the floor tiles.  You can still see it close to the walls, though, and imagine how much grander the room looked when the floors all looked like this.

(You can also see the corner of our stroller there, and that reminds me that we had a momentary crisis in the chateau when our stroller went missing.  I had parked it by the staircase when we went upstairs, and it was gone when we came down.  Au secours!!  But before I had a chance to report it to the proper authorities, I saw it tucked away in the corner of the vestibule.  I had apparently left it in the WRONG PLACE, and an overzealous docent had relocated it to an equally inconvenient but officially approved stroller area.) 

The Great Hall at Chenonceau, spanning the river.  Love the checkerboard floor.

In every room we saw incredible floral arrangements like this.  And they are REAL flowers, changed every day.  Later in our visit we walked through the flower garden for these arrangements and marveled at the attention to detail.  The philosophy here is that everyone who comes to Chenonceau should be treated like a real guest, and fresh flower arrangements in each room is just one way of making every guest feel special.  Bravo, Chenonceau!  I approve.

One of the loveliest places we've ever visited in Europe.

The 16th-century "farm" on the grounds of Chenonceau.  I'm not sure they mowed their lawns into patterns or manicured them into perfect geometric velveteen shapes in the 16th century, but you never know.

Part of the flower garden.  For late autumn, they really have kept up the color in an amazing way.

Must be something in the fertilizer.  That is the biggest, most beautiful dahlia (?) I've ever seen.  Fit for a king.

During our last hour at the chateau, we explored the forests.  H finds forests therapeutic, and this one was especially potent.

How could it not calm the soul to walk through scenery like this?