My house, I mean Château de Chenonceau, has quite a history.
Most extraordinarily is that the Château was loved, run, and protected by
exceptional women. Yes, women. Château des Dames. Diane de Poitiers,
Catherine de’ Medici, Louise de Lorraine-Vaudémont, Gabrielle d’Estrées,
Françoise de Lorraine, Louise Dupin,
Marguerite Pelouze. Words that come to my mind in regards to the Château are “refined,
elegant, sophisticated, feminine, livable and ladylike.”
Everything was perfect. The perfect length of the tree
allée, the labyrinth, the gardens, the river Cler, the views, the architecture,
the setting, the manageable size, the floors, the vaulted ceilings, the
fireplaces, the tapestries, the fabrics, the little rowboats, etc. Nothing sucked.
My absolute favorite part of the chateau was the potager. A potager,
by definition, is a formally laid out kitchen garden that incorporates flowers,
vegetables, herbs and fruit. Strolling through the fully functioning potager
just made the chateau so current, so real, so alive, so “move-in ready.”
My only regret is not being able to see the kitchen. It was
on the ground floor only accessible by tight winding steep stone steps.
Apparently, I was told, it is my dream kitchen.
After the tour, we had a lovely lunch in the gourmet restaurant,
L’Orangerie. From our table, we had a view of the Château, the gardens, two
magnificent statues/busts and a beautiful fragrant magnolia tree. Honestly, not
to be a snob, but the whole place reminded me of my grandmother’s house. Maybe
it was the balustrades, the grounds, the magnolia trees, and something about
the interiors. More on that later. I felt very at home and had a strange
sense that I had been here before.
I only got into one little scuffle at the Château. Some
idiot held his toddler over the balcony. I started screaming, “Not a good idea!
Not a good idea!” He ignored me and did it anyway. After he was finished nearly
killing his toddler Michael Jackson style, I said it to the little boy, “Hooray,
you didn’t die!” I knew the father just wanted to punch me, but he couldn’t
because I’m in a wheelchair. I should’ve had the sense to
have my staff escort them out of my house.
This is a definite must-see on your France list.
Mi casa es su casa.
A tout!
