Tag Archives: France

France ~ Chateau de Chenonceau: Tour of the Ladies Chateau

Chateau de Chenonceau over the River Cher
Chateau de Chenonceau on the River Cher in the Loire Valley, France

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

My daughter Laura and I were in Paris so we hopped aboard the comfortable vehicle at 7:15 am, which included about 20 other tourists. We were blessed with two knowledgeable guides who fortunately understood the need to nap.

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 its designers and owners were women.

Marques Tower at Chenonceau
The Marques Tower of Chenonceau

Upon entering the grounds, we strolled down a long, sun-dappled tree covered pathway. Two lion statues acted as sentinels at the gates. Then, we passed the Marques Tower, the oldest standing building remaining from the original fortress built in 1432. The turrets are exactly what I imagine Rapunzel’s tower in fairy tales.

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

However, when Henri died, the queen (Catherine de Medici) took revenge and forced Diane out. Diane took Chaumont (another chateau) in exchange. In the end, the rival 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 grew over the river.

Chenonceau Bedroom
Royal Bedchamber- Chenonceau

Paintings, tapestries, original furniture and other Renaissance period pieces are scattered throughout the rooms. Visitors see the guardroom, chapel, bedroom of Diane de Poitiers, and another used by Catherine de Medici. I found it easy to imagine royalty dancing in the spacious gallery ballroom over the water. The view from the room’s windows, however, bespoke tranquility.

In addition, we saw Henri II’s bedroom with a portrait of Diane and the five queens’ bedroom- used by Catherine de Medici’s two daughters and three daughters-in-law. Louise of Lorraine’s bedroom was decorated in somber black and white after her husband, King Henri III,died. She then became known as the White Queen for joining the reclusive nuns who always wore white.

Chateau de Chenonceau Balcony
Laura overlooking the Chenoceau gardens

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

The gardens burst with vibrant pink blossoms: one is a copy of Diane’s garden, the other is Catherine’s. These flowers are used to create the gorgeous arrangements that decorate each room in the chateau.

Chateau de Chenonceau
Chenonceau Chateau from the garden

Chenonceau gets a thumbs up. I would definitely return to this elegant chateau and spend an entire day. We didn’t have time to explore the maze, take a boat ride on the Cher, which would have offered a terrific photo-op or see the wax figures displayed in period costuming. The lunch area seemed lovely, and goodness, more time to stroll the grounds would have been appreciated. I suspect the grand illumination of the grounds during summer months is spectacular.

Lavender Fields of Provence

Lavender Fields of Provence
Lavender Fields of Provence

Imagine row after row of tiny, bud-like purple flowers majestically raising their heads from green shoots. Their stalks burst free from the hard-packed rusty brown earth. The surrounding soil is covered by limestone rocks, crunching under my feet as I walk through the field. Lavender plants wave in the breeze tickling my legs, just below my knees.

I listen carefully; the field buzzes with the sound of humming bees. No need to worry, these little critters don’t bother people. They are happy and content to flutter between the thousands of blossoms, bee nirvana. The insects produce what is called lavender honey and sometimes beekeepers place hives along the edges of a field.

Provence, a glorious region in the south of France, is home to legendary lavender fields. Wild plants have grown here since the Middle Ages. The climate and soil create perfect conditions for farming the herb. While the harvested flowers yield a sweet perfume scent, the cultivated fields send a softer aroma.

I see purple haze. Tourists and locals stop their cars, get out and stare at the mesmerizing scene. They bring cameras to photograph the visual joy, but the pictures don’t capture the ethereal essence. Being among the fields, in person, is like tasting fine wine. To fully experience the moment, you must immerse yourself.

Mid- August brings harvest time but similar to grapes, readiness depends on the seasonal weather. Lavender is hand-cut and left to dry for three days in the sun before being passed through a steam press. Nothing is wasted; leftovers from pressed flowers are used as fuel for the steam producing oven.

Honey, essential oils, perfume, soaps and dried flowers are end products of the crop. Lavender honey is said to help heal open wounds; the essential oil promotes calmness. Potpourri or lavender sachets help mask odors and chefs in France sprinkle the herb in many dishes.

The territory casts a magical spell with golden sunflower fields, precariously perched hillside towns, historic sites, in cities like Avignon, and a relaxed lifestyle made famous by Peter Mayle’s books. Tour de France fans know Provence as the home of Mount Ventoux. Photographers call it paradise for the diversity of nature, colors and vistas. Artists such as Van Gogh and Cezanne found Provence inspired their creative talents.

But I came for the lavender fields.

I Love Paris…and a room with a view

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Debi in Paris, 2009

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?

Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais
Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais

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 offers free WiFi.

Our hotel room
Our hotel room

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.

Room with a View
The View from my room in Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais

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.

Mass Celebration in Notre Dame
Mass Celebration in Notre Dame
Notre Dame Saints
Notre Dame Saints

We spied a little diorama showing the medieval construction methods used to build the church. The 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.

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Laura loves Paris, 2009

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 21st, 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.)

View of the Louvre Pyramid
Glass Pyramid in the Louvre Courtyard--Paris

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.

Carr0usel Triumphal Arch
Carr0usel Triumphal Arch

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.

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Eiffel Tower at night

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 twoin the morning, I woke up to the silence. Oh, how I love Paris.

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