Loire - Second Day

I awake to the calls of wood pigeons outside my window. They have a completely different call from the annoying pigeons in New York – multi-faceted and kind of swingy.

Here is its call: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n84sZIN4lv8

This is new and a big improvement!

I dress and go down to the dining room with a queasy stomach. I’m not used to such a fatty diet and being celiac, often there’s nothing else for me to eat but fatty meats and cheese. I’m also underslept, having had chocolate the night before (can I really complain about this?). 

At the morning route talk, we get directions, tickets for entry into the chateaux we will be visiting, and lots of do-it-yourself trail mix snacks, which I figure I won't need.

Here is our over all route map for the first three days. But of course we get the more explicit directions to use with our odometers (I can't seem to get mine calibrated correctly).

I tag along with the siblings from San Francisco who blast through the beautiful village of Blois at top speed. Thankfully we grab a few photos.

We quickly leave Blois behind,

And ride on to Chateau Chambord (23.3 miles)

With those spectacular sunflowers literally lighting the way. I never tire of them.

Chambord is an inexpressibly beautiful chateau, a masterpiece.

It’s set back in a forest behind walls, and does not lend itself to open discovery – unless you know where to look. Built as a retreat by Francois l, it’s possible he wanted to be visited only by invitation. It was the 15th Century after all, and he was surrounded by the territories of his Spanish Arch Nemesis, Charles V - whom he later hosted there, showing off his enormous wealth and power.

Francois 1 was a huge patron of the arts (also standardized the French language from its many dialects), and invited Leonardo da Vinci to work on Chambord (he brought the Mona Lisa with him). Architecturally, Chambord is a combination of French Medieval and Renaissance influences. That said, it’s entirely unique.

The most distinctive feature of Chambord is its double helix staircase - allegedly so that the mistress and Queen would not run into each other en route to the King’s chambers.

After all that, Francois l only ever visited Chambord four times – each time bringing and removing all furnishings and tapestries. Aside from its inconvenient location, Chambord was impossible to heat; no matter how many fire places were lit (the entry way has four massive ones), it wasn’t enough. But Summer was equally bad, with mosquito infestations which drove the residents quickly out.

Over its lifetime, several descendants of the King tried to renovate it, draining the swamps, building walls of containment and devoting their lives to it - but Chambord was a demanding mistress. In no case was it ever made more habitable - or convenient (though I did not notice mosquitoes) - and it was ultimately taken over by the State. But it is breath taking, and tourists rightfully flock to the place which funds its upkeep.

Somehow it is not surprising to me that Chambord affords a great view of itself. There is something inherently narcissistic about Chambord.

It is not furnished, and I am glad of that. The bones of the place are enough.

All chateaux in the Loire have chapels,

and gardens, or manicured grounds. Chambord’s is not surprisingly grand but flat, so as to pay homage to the building itself.

We are left to our own devices at Chambord, to have lunch at one of the many food concessions at the entry. They are all wonderful. They all serve wheat exclusively. In the end, I buy a bag of nougat. That and my bottle of water are the only things that get me through the 36 miles to the next chateau and back to the hotel.

It’s frightening to find myself in the French countryside with dwindling strength and mental faculties; I am glad I at least have sugar, but I rue that I did not bring my own gf bread, peanut butter and jelly from home. Next time, I resolve to stock up on that trail mix in the morning. 

Incidentally, the Back Roads van sweeps by us periodically. We've been instructed to signal if we need help - yet it never occurs to me to do this, since it's not bicycle help! In thinking about it afterwards, I realize that trail mix and other first aid are probably all available in that van. This trip is all about setting your own pace, and it's put me in a very self-sufficient frame of mind. But if there's a lesson here, it's that there's such a thing as being too self-sufficient; it would have been smarter to ask for help.

That said, my biggest regret about this trip is that I am celiac and cannot enjoy one of France’s most outstanding aspects: its pastry and its breads. It is truly sinful to have to skip them. I am grateful though, that I can at least have the wines.

Our next destination is Chateau Cheverny, and this time I tag along with a couple who cycle at a speed that affords some dawdling. We ride on coach roads still within the walls of Chambord.

Crossing the bridge to Cheverny - 

until we behold its open and balanced façade. It was clearly built later (1624-1630) and has been in the Hurault family ever since, with a couple of interruptions (more about that later). It is an inviting presence – times had changed, hospitality was in.

The gardens are beautiful and fanciful.

I take lots of photos of the interior, though they seem overly decorative after the stark beauty of Chambord. But it’s a different era.

I know it’s silly, but the most intriguing aspect of Cheverny is the feeding of the hounds! These are 100 hunting dogs – they hunt live game, not “released” game as we do in the US – and twice a day they line up for this feeding ritual (the sign says, "Please do not tease the hounds.")

Today, the older ones are let in first and then all the others are released. I couldn’t get a good vantage point, but this video will give you an idea:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEEFHegTSAI

There is an option at each of these stops, to take the shuttle back to the hotel, but I wouldn’t dream of missing a kilometer of these rides. They – and their destinations – are a virtual beauty overload. Just what this New Yorker has been craving.

Dinner is beautifully presented and prepared:

I am sated but not complacent; I will be smarter about my food prep tomorrow.