Let us start in a forthright manner. The châteaux of the Loire Valley are
riveting. They offer us sex, violence and outstanding gardens. There are
tales of seminaked serving wenches at transvestite balls, water torture (18
litres, straight down the gullet) and serial teenage pregnancies in very
high places. Also, of course, power-plays for the future of Europe.
Seen from one angle, then, these châteaux are dressed-stone versions of the
tabloid press. This may not be how you remember them. You’ll more likely
recall trudging round on a school trip, knocked comatose by merciless
details of cornice mouldings and Renaissance tapestries.
That, I’m afraid, is the leaden way of the French with their monuments. If
only it weren’t. Quite simply, the châteaux are magnificent — and deserve to
live, not die by audio-guide. I mean, look at Chambord. If the soaring
Renaissance splendour doesn’t make you gasp, you probably shouldn’t be
allowed out. Here is all the grandeur of France’s 16th-century self-image,
but with a flip side of fragility — the two tending to magnificently bonkers
excess.
Like other royal castles, Chambord was primarily a statement of authority.
These places were at the centre of the thunder and intrigue of proper
history, hosting a heavyweight cast that, for 400 years, moved through those
ruling France, plotting to rule France, partying, hunting, stabbing rivals
and setting world records for adultery.
In Chinon, for instance, there’s a 25-metre-drop medieval latrine — down which
courtly ladies would bung accidental babies. In Blois, a royal opponent was
overcome in Henri III’s bedchamber — by knifemen rather than the extravagant
decoration, though it must have been a close-run thing. At Amboise, François
II hung Protestant insurgents from the railings of his salon balcony.
And, given the entangled nature of our mutual affairs, there have also been
key roles for the English — from (our) Henry II Plantagenet to the Duke of
Windsor.
The settings are wonderful, the soft-lit landscape defined by France’s
mightiest river and its tributaries, but what keeps you going is the
discovery of what happened where it happened. There’s no other historical
ensemble like this. Below is our guide to getting the best of it, mixing the
stars with some lesser-known spots. All are open every day unless otherwise
stated. Prices are for adults; children get reduced rates. We’re assuming
arrival in Loches in the afternoon.
FIRST AFTERNOON
Loches! There’s a name to stir true English hearts. It was from the top of the
hill that the Plantagenets guarded their (ie, our) French territory against
the French king. They’d inherited a 32-metre keep that they trimmed with
further towers, walls and terraces. The whole, wondrously preserved, now
resembles a Middle Ages fist shaking at the sky — sufficient, you’d have
thought, to see off as many French as cared to turn up.
Not so. Though Richard the Lionheart held out, King John lost it to the French
Philippe Auguste in 1205. In later centuries, the castle became a jail. As
you wander the thick-stone warren, you’ll bump into the cell where, from
1504 to 1508, the Duke of Milan was detained with only “his favourite dwarf”
for company. Those were the days when aristocrats had a full range of dwarfs
to choose from. Across the medieval quarter, in the royal apartments,
there’s further cause for English pride. Time had moved on to the Hundred
Years’ War. French and English were once again at each other’s throats. In
the 1420s, our boys had taken Paris. The French heir apparent, the future
Charles VII, scuttled down here to get out of the way — which kicked off the
entire association between French royals and the Loire Valley region. The
Loire châteaux era started here and, indirectly, we were responsible.
Charles, incidentally, holed up with his mistress, Agnãs Sorel. Her very
fetching topless portrait illuminates the apartments visit no end. (Joint
visit, keep and royal apartments, £5; 00 33-2 47 59 01 32, www.monuments-touraine.fr.)
Now wriggle back down through Loches’s old town and across the Indre River to
the Hostellerie des Cordeliers (5 Rue des Ponts; 02 47 59 34 35, www.hostelleriedescordeliers.com;
doubles from £57 low season, £72 high). Eat round the corner at the George
Sand; menus from £19.
DAY ONE
Return north towards Tours, then off west along the Indre Valley to Monts. The
Château de Candé sits pertly on a hilltop outside the village. It’s
16th-century with 19th-century additions, but we’re not too bothered about
that. We’re making a brief detour into the 20th century, for the Duke and
Duchess of Windsor.
The recently abdicated duke and his coat-hanger wife were married here in
1937, guests of the Franco-American owner. He reckoned it would be splendid
PR for his business consultancy. He was right. International hacks thronged
the gates, making the recent Hurley and Cruise nuptials seem comparatively
discreet. Understanding nothing, the French were besotted with the romance;
socialist prime minister Léon Blum sent flowers.
The ceremony was held in the library, where, with a certain inevitability,
Edward and Wallis carved their Christian names into the wood panelling.
Candé is now restored to the way it was, a 1930s veneer covering a long
history. And it’s perhaps the only place on earth where, this year, the
Windsor wedding’s 70th anniversary will be celebrated — with a garden party
on June 3. After that, the château hosts a summer-long Windsor exhibition.
(Open Apr 1-Sept 30, Fri, Sat and Mon; £2.15; 02 47 34 03 70, www.monuments-touraine.fr.)
Tootle along the road to Azay-le-Rideau. From the outside (ie, the road into
town), the château is a stunner, almost feminine in its grace. Get an
external eyeful, but don’t pay to go inside. Not much happened here, and the
audio-guide really stretches. “According to a 16th-century inventory,
food... was stored in the pantry,” we are told. And hats, doubtless, were
worn on heads.
Cut southwest to Chinon, skirting the town towards Châtellerault before
turning off to Lémeré. Out in the fields is the Château du Rivau. Smallish,
perhaps; unsung, certainly — but with quite the most brilliant gardens. Over
13 years, its owner, Patricia Laigneau, has woven myths, legends and fun and
games from ancient plants, trees, bowers and contemporary sculpture. (Open
May 1-Nov 1; £5.40; 02 47 95 77 47, www.chateaudurivau.com.)
Double back to Chinon, jammed between the Vienne River and hillside. Your gaze
will be hoicked towards the mighty, 460-metre-long château on top. Well,
ex-mighty. There’s not a whole lot left, one reason why much restoration
work is under way this year. You have to enter via an underground passage
(left as you cross the bridge, then up the hill).
But enter you must. Like Loches, the spot blows a double blast in discordant
cross-Channel history. It was another favourite Plantagenet stronghold: our
Henry II stayed often, and died here. Two centuries on, it was back in
French ownership and the future Charles VII had moved in, when the
17-year-old Joan of Arc showed up. She told him (I paraphrase) to stop being
such a drip, give her the backing and she’d beat the English. Which she did,
at Orléans: the beginning of the end of the Hundred Years’ War.
Stroll the site, see the chimney before which La Pucelle confronted the royal
drip. Spot the baby-disposal unit. Learn of medieval hygiene and defence
tactics. Appreciate the arresting views and the feeling of being in a jolly
important place withal (£2 during restoration work; 02 47 93 13 45, www.monuments-touraine.fr.)
Then beetle back down to the Hôtel Diderot (4 Rue de Buffon; 02 47 93 18 87, www.hoteldiderot.com;
doubles from £45). Later, make for the old centre for dinner at Les Années
30, on Rue Voltaire; from £19.50.
DAY TWO
Today, we leave the Middle Ages for the Renaissance, the essential châteaux
era. If French royals arrived in the Loire Valley skedaddling from the
English, they kept returning well after they’d booted us out. Hence the
châteaux that, through the late 15th and 16th centuries, were hubs of power,
architectural magnificence and parties involving, on occasion, lions.
With that knowledge assimilated, nose north to the Château de Villandry and
the most famous gardens in the Loire. They are vast and rigidly formal in
the French fashion, created with set squares and compasses rather than
spades.
They’re also alive with symbolism. Cabbages, apparently, signify sexual and
spiritual corruption. So I can blame my adult life on school dinners.
Meanwhile, the château itself is sumptuous, arty and warmed through with the
presence of the family owners. Best bit is a rather unexpected Moorish
ceiling brought from Toledo in 3,000 pieces. (Gardens open every day,
château Feb 10-Nov 11; joint visit £5.40; 02 47 50 02 09, www.chateauvillandry.com.)
Now through Tours and out east along the Loire, a bewitching spectacle.
France’s greatest river idles powerfully on one side. On the other, houses
back into the limestone cliffs. Mutual respect has evolved over the aeons.
So to Amboise, perched by the river bank absolutely like the royal town it
once was. You should be arriving flanked by men-at-arms rather than, say,
the wife.
The castle, a colossus, rises sheer from the centre (£5.80; 02 47 57 00 98, www.chateau-amboise.com).
Once you’re up there, the views over town and river are regal, but there’s a
lot of open space: only 20% of the original chateau remains. No matter. This
is a vital site. Charles VIII was born here. Despite having six toes on each
foot, being stupendously ugly and prey to convulsions, Charles inaugurated
France’s Italian campaigns, bringing the Renaissance back with him. You may
see the effect in Amboise’s splendid royal apartments. It was a hugely
significant development, and built on by François I, the emblematic
Renaissance monarch.
He, too, warred around Italy, fetching home the ageing Leonardo da Vinci, for
intellectual stimulation. Though now buried in a chapel within Amboise
château, Leonardo was lodged across town in the Clos de Lucé manor house.
Hurry there. It’s terrific. Both house and gardens are now full of
contemporary evocations of the man’s genius. There are huge translucent
canvases, audio-presentations under trees and models of concepts he imagined
centuries before the rest of the planet caught up.
He was, it’s clear, a great fan of weapons of mass destruction (machine guns,
tanks). But he also foresaw the helicopter, parachute, car jack and
Bevel-Trundle change-speed system. All that and the Mona Lisa too. You’ll
leave convinced that he was better than everybody at everything.
(Manor and exhibitions, open all year; gardens, Mar 1-Nov 15; £8; 02 47 57 55
78, www.vinci-closluce.com.)
Now move eight miles out of town to Cangey and another manor house — the
delightful, British-owned Le Fleuray Hotel (02 47 56 09 25, www.lefleurayhotel.com;
doubles from £56). Dine there; from £20.
DAY THREE
Out early, to get to Chenonceau as it opens at 9am. The château seethes in
summer, and rightly so. What with the romantic harmony of building, grounds
and the gallery arching over the Cher River, you expect, at least, a few
giant swans to come gliding past with princesses on their backs.
A woman’s castle, then. Henri II gave it to Diane de Poitiers, the mistress he
had had since he was 12 and she was 32. For some years, he shared her with
his dad, François I. (As my companion said: “It’s so nice when father and
son have a common interest.”) On Henri’s death in 1559, his wife, Catherine
de Medici, evicted mistress Diane and took over the place for herself.
Both women created fine gardens, where Queen Mother Catherine — though
she looked like a storm in a cemetery — threw some pretty wild
receptions, notably for her son Henri III. Waitresses would be wearing very
little. Henri would, as usual, show up in a glitter jacket with dangly
earring accessories and accompanied by his best friends, les mignons
(the sweeties).
When this Henri in turn died, in 1589, his wife (bit of a surprise, that)
spent her last 11 years mourning in a bedchamber decorated entirely in
black, with motifs of tears, bones and shovels. It’s the most engrossing of
many superb rooms. Walk the gallery over the Cher and you’ll see why
Flaubert wrote that this château was “built on the water and in the air”
(£6.50; 02 47 23 90 07, www.chenonceau.com).
Hop along, via Montrichard, to Bourré and a break from castles. At the Cave
des Roches, we’re going underground, into some of the 120km of chambers dug
out to provide the stone for the chateaux. Now, André Delalande grows the
posher sort of mushroom down there. It’s about 43 times more interesting
than it sounds. Better still: in one of the chambers, a dogged and gifted
stonemason has created, from the rock, an entire 19th-century village
street, detailed to the nth degree. Astonishing. (Open Easter-Nov 1; £6.80;
02 54 32 95 33, www.le-champignon.com.)
Then filter northeast along the back roads to the Château de Cheverny. More
recent than other châteaux, Cheverny is really a 17th-century neoclassical
palace. It has no significant history. What it has is perfection. The
proportions, the play of roof levels, the restrained decoration of the stone —
it’s all so balanced, so right, that it’s a wonder anyone mega-rich ever
built in any other way.
This is the best-furnished, best-decorated interior of our trip, perhaps
because the place has been in the same family since being built. They have
clearly never had much truck with minimalism. Even the tapestries are good.
Look closely and you’ll spot blokes discreetly peeing in the corners of a
couple of them.
Outside, you may seek deer in the huge park, visit the hunting dogs and an
exhibition devoted to Tintin. (Cheverny served as model for the comic books’
Marlinspike Hall.) To appreciate the show, though, you will have to be more
enthusiastic about the moon-faced little twit than I am. (Gardens and
castle, £4.60; 02 54 79 96 29, www.chateau-cheverny.fr.)
Finally, head southwest to the tiny village of Valaire and the Domaine du
Prieuré, the most civilised B&B around here (02 54 44 14 62, www.les-metamorphozes.com;
doubles from £54). Prebook dinner, from £20.
DAY FOUR
We’re finishing on top notes: to Chambord! Built by François I in a forested
park bigger than central Paris, Chambord tells the world that French kings
were second only to God, and a close second at that.
The heroic proportions of the Loire’s mightiest château will, indeed, have you
wondering why les rois never really ran the world. The thick forest
of chimneys and towers on the roof suggests an answer: their designs kept
sailing way over the top.
Inside, it goes on for ever, 440 rooms radiating out from the extraordinary
double-helix staircase. Going up, you never meet anyone coming down. It’s
all to do with political theatricality, ramming home the message of majesty.
Of course, it also meant that your wife could descend one side while your
mistress came up the other. So there’s a subplot, a behind-the-scenes world
of back rooms and hidden staircases favouring intrigue and adultery. On his
visits, François certainly benefited. Though he apparently loved his queen,
Claude — they’d married when she was 14 and, a decade later, she’d
borne him seven babies — he was king. His eye wandered. He used the
backstairs, and was even occasionally rebuffed.
After one such occasion, he scratched the equivalent of “Women are a fickle
bunch; stay clear” on his bedchamber window (£5.80 low season, £6.40 high;
02 54 50 50 40, www.chambord.org).
To make sense of this extraordinary place, you’ll need a guided tour or,
because guide standards vary, the surprisingly good audio-guide. Either adds
£2.70 to the bill. Then walk or bike the park.
If you can fit in another château, nip to Blois, the most rewarding in-town
castle in France (and another hub of 16th-century royal power). If not, your
time’s your own. Have a coffee — though not at the cafeteria
within Chambord château. It’s dire.
Getting there: Ryanair (0871 246 0000, www.ryanair.comwww.ryanair.com)
flies to Tours from Stansted. HolidayAutos (www.holidayautos.com)
has car hire for the trip’s duration from £92.80. Tours to Loches is 50
minutes. In your own car, Calais to Loches is a little under six hours,
nonstop.
Tour operators: VFB (01452 716842, www.vfbholidays.co.uk)
has three-night breaks in characterful hotels, full-board, with flights and
car hire, from £385pp. Inntravel (01653 617906, www.inntravel.co.uk)
also offers independent walking and cycling holidays in the region. A seven
night walking break, half-board, with picnics, baggage transfer, maps and
notes, starts at £598pp.
