The Loire PROBABLY Won't Make You Sick

A couple of months ago, I happened to mention to this woman I know that I was planning to visit the Loire Valley with my family when they came over to France to see my husband and I in April. The Loire Valley, by the way and in case you are not already familiar with it, is a region of France that is located about two to three hours southwest of Paris. It is famous because the beautiful countryside is rife with quaint villages, awash with vineyards, and, most importantly, scattered with gorgeous chateaux (castles).

I remember that during this particular conversation, as soon as I spoke of our impending trip to the Loire, she made a face as though she had just ingested something wholly unpalatable--like a spoonful of gasoline.

Now, I realize we all have different proclivities, but this reaction seemed pretty peculiar to me. As in: I had said that we were going to visit castles and countryside which are world-renowned for their aesthetic beauty. Shame on me for having expectations or making assumptions, but have them I did. As such, I assumed she would smile and perhaps enthusiastically endorse this family outing of mine. Instead, her response was what I would have anticipated had I shared with her that I planned to take my family to a nudist colony for obese cavemen.

Or something like that.

Anyway, she went on to tell me that in her opinion, the Loire Valley is nothing special; the castles are over-rated and the architecture makes her "sick" because it is so "boring."

Well, as it happens, this person was not someone with whom I have ever felt I had a great deal in common. We have quasi-regular exchanges which are fine enough, but it seemed clear from early on that we would never be extremely chummy. Not to say that this scenario is necessarily a bad thing; I suppose that sometime during our acquaintanceship I just came to the subconscious conclusion that we were simply not very similar people, decided we would just be the "Hi, how are you?" sort of "friends", and left it at that.

After visiting the Loire, however, I recall this conversation and I have inevitably formulated a whole new assessment of this gal: I am now inclined to (unofficially) diagnose her as being off her rocker.

Lending credence to my diagnosis: the area is BREATHTAKINGLY gorgeous. To be fair, I suppose that if you do not possess even minute interest in architecture, history, horticulture, wine, nature, and/or beauty, then the region could possibly be marginally-less-than-spectacularly appealing. But if you do happen to have any interest in any of the aforementioned, let me tell you something: this paysage is for you.

We visited Chenonceaux, a beautiful chateaux built on a river, about 15 minutes outside the town of Amboise (which is, along with Tours, Saumur, Chinon, and Angers, a "major" town in the Loire). From this exquisite property, Catherine de Medici ruled France during the 16th century. I mention this historical tidbit not merely to wow you with my intellectual prowess, but rather because her name is validation of sorts for my claims astuting the wonder inherent with this property. She designed the gardens at Chenonceaux, and it was she who designed the Jardin des Tuileries--the wildly famous and much-photographed gardens which lead to the Louvre from the Place de la Concorde in central Paris. The woman had vision and she executed it with admirable and lasting effects.

Walking around the castle, we had a pamphlet that gave the power-point main ideas of the history of the place, and I really felt I learned way more in two hours about the history of French rule in the 16th-18th centuries than I ever learned in high school history class.

I had great high school history teachers by the way. It is just that you retain a heck of a lot more when you can be wowed and awed by such beauty whilst learning timelines and factoids.

We ate lunch at the most adorable resto in Chenonceaux--Le Relais de Chenonceaux, which is just up the street from the castle, in the center of the Chenonceaux village. The village was quintessential France, straight out of a movie, really. Adding to the effects of this al fresco experience--where every vegetable seemed freshly plucked from some ridiculously perfect French garden--birds were melodiously tweeting, a rooster was cock-a-doodle-doo-ing in the distance, and the service was crisp French affect meets laid-back country friendliness.

So yeah, we liked it there.

Next we went to Chateau Royal d'Amboise, and we were first blown away by the tiny free-standing gothic cathedral (La Chapelle Saint-Hubert) which houses Leonardo Da Vinci's tomb. He requested to be buried there, after living the last three years of his life at a nearby manor, and it is easy to see why someone would seek to be eternally entombed in such a locale. Set high on a cliff over the river, the view is incredible. The castle itself did not disappoint either. The views were particularly spectacular.

The creme de la creme of this little sojourn was the hotel at which we stayed. It was a former monastery which had been built into a cliff. It was literally a troglodyte dwelling and the rooms are actual limestone "caves."

Before those of you who know me fall to the floor in shock and confusion about this apparent admission to my "roughing it", I can assure you that the hotel was actually quite the glam affair. It is called Les Haute Roches, and has a Michelin rated restaurant. Amazing food and wine, by the way. For wine we had a Vouvray--since the actual village of Vouvray is just a stones throw from the hotel--and it was delectable. The food was much of a muchness--in the best possible way. To best describe it to you, I can just say that one could have just eaten the amuse bouche of prosciutto and cream on a crostini while looking out over the river from the terrace, sipping the local vintage, and been incredibly content.

But I recommend just splashing out for the whole meal, because it was worth every penny.

And then...well, we actually missed the second day of castle hopping we had planned. We had hoped to visit the town of Saumur and the Abbaye Royale located there as well as the Chateau de Breze castle, and then to perhaps end our trip with the most famous and largest of the Loire's offerings: Chambord. But, sadly, my mother came down with bronchitis and we had to get back to Paris tout suite.

I share this last tidbit because it seems that I have to concede that my "off-her-rocker" acquaintance may have been somewhat justified in her preposterous opinions regarding the Loire: in the end it does seem that the place could make you sick. (Irony: hello, again, you bad penny, you.)

But regardless, you should go there; it is awesome.