France's Loire: Chateau Country

Hi, I'm Rick Steves,

back with more of the best of Europe.

This time we're enjoying

the delights of the French countryside --

it's the chateaux of the Loire River Valley.

Thanks for joining us.

Awe-inspiring castles and palaces

are scattered all over Europe,

but no place is as renowned for its palaces as here --

a region synonymous with chateaux,

the Loire Valley of France.

This time we start with the grandest of all chateaux,

enjoy a river that marks the heart of France,

play with Leonardo's inventions at this last home,

admire the ultimate in graceful palaces,

feed the dogs...

and eat well, ourselves,

before enjoying the garden of our dreams.

France, has historically been divided by the Loire River.

The chateau-studded Loire Valley

is a two-hour drive south of Paris.

Using the town of Amboise as our home base,

we tour four unique castles:

Chambord, Chenonceau, Cheverny, and Villandry.

Because of its strategic location,

the fertility of its land,

and its long and involved history,

the Loire Valley is home to

a dizzying variety of castles and palaces.

The earliest were designed purely for defense.

But when a valley address became a must-have

for France's royalty in the 16th century,

the old medieval towers were replaced by luxurious chateaux.

The Loire River's place in French history

goes back to the very foundation of the country.

As if to proclaim its storied past,

the Loire is the last major wild river in France.

With no dams, it flows freely to the sea.

We'll start with the biggest.

Chambord is the granddaddy of the Loire Chateaux.

Far bigger than your average Loire castle,

it has 440 rooms

and a fireplace for every day of the year.

It's surrounded by Europe's largest enclosed forest.

It's a game preserve defined by a 20-mile-long wall

and still home to wild deer and boar.

Exploring the vast domain by rental bike,

you can imagine royal hunting parties chasing their prey.

Chambord began as a simple hunting lodge for bored nobles

and eventually became a monument

to the royal sport and duty of hunting.

Of course, when it comes to hunting,

good horsemanship is an important life skill.

Throughout the region it's not uncommon

to see horses prancing and dancing.

Starting in 1519, the French king Francis the First

had this royal retreat built,

employing 1,800 workmen for 15 years.

Francois I was an absolute monarch,

with the emphasis on "absolute."

In 32 years of rule,

he never once called the Estates General --

that's the rudimentary parliament of

old regime France -- into session.

This immense hunting palace

was another way to show off his power.

The architectural plan of the chateau

was modeled after an Italian church.

It feels a like a place designed to worship royalty.

This castle,

built while the pope was erecting

a new St. Peter's Basilica in Rome,

was like a secular rival to the Vatican.

Like a cross crowns a great church,

the tip-top of the tallest tower here

is capped with the fleur-de-lis,

symbol of the French Monarchy.

Each floor of the main structure is the same --

four equal arms of a cross

branching off of a monumental staircase,

which leads up to a cupola.

Grand apres-hunting parties

were held under these fine barrel-vaulted ceilings.

Constructed for Francois I,

his emblem -- the salamander -- is everywhere.

The hunting theme carries on throughout the palace.

This room features paintings and trophies

from Chambord's illustrious hunting past.

Typical of royal chateaux, this palace was rarely used.

Back then, any king had to be on the road a lot

to effectively exercise his power.

That's why he'd have lots of royal palaces

and they sat empty most of the time.

Back in the 1600s, Louis XIV spent a fortune

renovating this place, and he visited only six times.

Touring the lavish apartments of various kings and queens,

you notice, everything inside was designed to be

easily dismantled and moved

with the royal entourage.

Because French kings moved around a lot,

the entire court and its trappings had to be mobile.

A royal chateau would sit cold and empty

11 months out of the year,

and then suddenly spring to life when the king came to town.

Imagine the royal roadies

setting up a kingly room like this --

busily hanging tapestries,

assembling beds,

unfolding chairs,

wrestling big trunks with handles --

just before the arrival of the royal entourage.

The French word for furniture, "mobilier,"

literally means "mobile."

The fancy spiral staircase

continues to the rooftop terrace,

decorated by a pincushion of spires and chimneys.

From here, ladies could scan the estate grounds,

enjoying the spectacle

of their ego-pumping men out hunting.

On hunt day, a line of beaters would fan out

and work their way inward from the distant walls,

flushing wild game to the center.

That's where the king and his buddies waited for the kill.

The Loire River gliding gently east to west,

separating northern from southern France,

has come to define this popular tourist region.

The value of this river and the valley's prime location,

in the center of the country just south of Paris,

have made the Loire a strategic prize for centuries --

hence all these castles.

This river has long been an important boundary in France.

Over a thousand years ago,

when the Moors invaded Europe from northern Africa,

this is as far north as they got.

In World War II, when Germany invaded,

this marked the border between Nazi and Vichy France.

And even today,

when people refer to northern and southern France,

this river marks the border.

Traditional flat-bottomed boats

romantically moored along embankments

are a reminder of the age before trains and trucks,

when it was river traffic

that safely and efficiently transported heavy loads

of stone and timber.

With the prevailing winds

sweeping upstream from the Atlantic,

barges, loaded with construction material for the chateaux,

raised their sails and headed inland.

Then, on the way back,

boats flowed downstream with the current.

This transportation infrastructure was critical

for shipping all the necessary stone.

And the region's thick forests provided plenty of timber,

firewood, and hunting terrain.

It's no wonder that castles were built on the Loire

in the Middle Ages.

Long before the pleasure palaces,

this strategic valley was dotted with

no-nonsense medieval castles.

The royal connection with the Loire Valley

goes back to the Hundred Years' War --

that's about 1350 to 1450.

Because of a dynastic dispute,

the English had a serious claim to the French throne,

and by the early 1400s

they controlled much of France, including Paris.

France was at a low ebb,

and its kings retreated here to the Loire

to rule what remained of their realm.

When the threat finally subsided

and the kings returned to Paris,

man of their their Loire castles became lavish country escapes.

France rebounded

and eventually tossed the English back to England.

Still, the French kings

continued to live in the Loire region

for the next two centuries,

having grown comfortable with

the chateau culture of the region.

The climate was mild,

hunting was good,

dreamy rivers made nice reflections,

wealthy friends lived in similar luxury nearby,

and the location was close enough to Paris

but still far enough away.

For France, the 16th century was a kind of cultural Golden Age.

With relative peace and stability,

there was no longer a need for fortifications

deep within the country.

The most famous luxury hunting lodges,

masquerading as fortresses,

were built during this period.

Extravagant chateaux like these didn't come cheap.

They were the fancy of the economic elites --

insiders who controlled the workings of the French economy.

Of course, that all changed with the French Revolution,

when the working class rose up,

chased the bankers and financiers of the day

off their estates, and ransacked many of their palaces.

Today scores of these castles and palaces have been restored

and are open to visitors.

Modern-day aristocratic chateau owners,

struggling with the cost of upkeep,

enjoy financial assistance from the government

if they open their mansions to the public.

Straddling the Loire River, Amboise is an inviting town

with a pleasing old quarter below its hilltop chateau.

A castle has overlooked the Loire from Amboise

since ancient Roman times.

As the royal residence of Francois I in the early 1500s,

little Amboise wielded far more influence than you'd imagine

from a lazy walk through its pleasant,

pedestrian-only commercial zone.

The busy, pedestrianized Rue Nationale

survives from the 16th century.

Back then, when the town spread at the foot of the king's castle

and was the second capital of France, this was its main drag.

The chateau of Amboise was the favored royal residence

of several kings.

Today visitors can stroll through its peaceful grounds

and enjoy commanding views.

Here in the Loire,

you'll notice the impact of the Italian Renaissance.

When French big-shots traveled to Italy,

they returned inspired by

the art and architecture they saw.

Tastes in food, gardens, artists, and design

were all influenced by Italian culture.

And Francois I did what he could

to physically bring the Renaissance to France.

It just made sense --

the ultimate French Renaissance king,

invited the ultimate renaissance Italian artist,

Leonardo da Vinci, to join his court.

The king set Leonardo up in Clos Luce,

a small mansion just down the street.

In 1516, Leonardo da Vinci left Rome,

accepted the position of engineer, architect, and painter

to France's Renaissance king, and moved in.

The 64-year-old Leonardo spent his last three years here

in the court of 22-year-old Francois I.

Clos Luce thoughtfully re-creates

the everyday atmosphere Leonardo enjoyed while he lived here --

the great hall where he received VIP guests,

his bedroom,

and the fine kitchen which came with a chef

provided by the king.

Enjoying the patronage of the French king,

Leonardo pursued his passions to the very end.

This romantic painting shows Francois I

comforting his genius pal on his deathbed.

Clos Luce displays models of Leonardo's remarkable inventions

built according to his notes.

Leonardo was fascinated with water

and was brilliant in harnessing its energy.

500 years ago, when Leonardo was looking for work,

the resume he sent to kings touted his engineering skills.

It read something like,

"I can help your army by designing tanks,

flying machines, water pumps, gear systems,

and rapid firing guns."

The chateau's grounds are

a kid-friendly, interactive park

with life-size models of the clever contraptions

Leonardo dreamed up.

While parents relax,

kids spin the helicopter,

raise heavy stones with innovative gear systems,

pump water upward with an Archimedes screw...

ponder tanks and machine guns...

[Recorded gunfire playing]

and propel boats with paddle power.

The pastoral Loire Valley hides countless castles, or chateaux.

While you'll likely visit several,

it's important to choose wisely.

Rather than seeing a string of similar palaces,

we've lined up a variety --

several distinctly different chateaux.

While Chambord was grandiose, our next one is graceful.

The Chateau of Chenonceau is the toast of the Loire.

This 16th-century Renaissance palace

arches gracefully over the Cher River.

Its formal garden combined with the delightful riverside setting

makes it one of the great sights in all of Europe.

The palace is lovingly maintained

with bouquets of fresh flowers

adding fragrance,

and an included audio-guide

making sure visitors understand what they're looking at.

Big fireplaces warmed big beds

while portraits of illustrious owners

give the place a certain pedigree.

While the tapestries kept the rooms cozy,

they also functioned to depict recent history...

to the king's liking, of course.

These 16th-century tapestries are among the finest in France.

Chenonceau was the first great pleasure palace.

With its ravishing grand gallery spanning the river,

it was designed for high society.

Nicknamed "the chateau of the ladies,"

Chenonceau housed many famous women over the centuries.

In 1547, King Henry II

gave the original castle to his mistress,

Diane de Poitiers.

She added an arched bridge over the river.

When the king died, his wife, the queen,

Catherine de Medici, took over the chateau.

She threw out the mistress,

turned Diane's bridge into a fancy ballroom,

and, according to legend, put her own portrait

above the fireplace in her rival's bedroom.

Big personalities like kings

tickled more than one tiara at a time.

Mistresses were a routine part of the mix.

Louis XV decorated this palace

with a painting of the Three Graces,

featuring his three favorite mistresses.

Now, that's the arrogance of power.

A powerful queen or mistress

often managed to get her own palace

even when a king's romantic interest shifted elsewhere.

In many cases, the king or nobleman

would be away on work or at war for years at a time,

leaving home-improvement decisions up to

the lady of the chateau, who had an unlimited budget.

We're back in Amboise.

And a day of chateau-hopping puts me in the mood for

an elegant meal.

My friend and co-author of our France guidebook,

Steve Smith, is joining us,

as is so often the case, just in time for dinner.

The rustic yet elegant L'Epicerie

serves delicious and well presented traditional cuisine,

and is a hit with locals.

Its tiny kitchen manages just fine.

Tell me what you're having and why.

STEVE: I ordered shrimp from the Loire River --

so, it's freshwater shrimp -- with tapenade.

RICK: Tell me about this, escargot, I love it.

Escargot is famous in Burgundy --

that's where it started.

But it became popular.

Every region in France seems to do an escargot.

RICK: The rose is refreshing, isn't it?

It's summer, August in France, we drink rose.

-Even escargot, red meat?

-It's perfect.

Oh, here we go, what do we have?

That one for there.

And I will take this one.

Oh!

Thank you.

-These are classic dishes.

-STEVE: You have lamb.

I have duck.

Yeah, duck seems to be pretty common in France.

It is, it's on every menu.

It's normal.

It's like the chicken of France, really.

But when you look at the price, it's not that cheap.

You're right, in a sense, but it includes tax and tip.

That adds up to about 25%.

People should remember that when they're ordering.

It's included.

Aurora, the restaurant's owner,

enthusiastically introduces us to her cheese course.

Alors, you have a local goat cheese, all right?

You have the Sainte-Maure de Touraine,

Selles-sur-Cher, Valençay,

and Pouligny-Saint-Pierre.

After, you have some cow cheese.

I have just one local cow.

It's creamy and soft

and it's from the Loir-et-Cher department.

The name ---.

You have stronger than but creamy too

with the Langres from Champagne.

If you like from Savoie, you have the Reblochon.

From the north, you have Maroilles.

Pont-l'Evêque, Normandy.

Saint-Nectaire, Murol,

and Fourme d'Ambert blue cheese from Auvergne.

So, you have goat cheese and cow cheese,

and it goes from mild to strong,

and it's like a map of France.

AURORA: Mm-hmm, yes, exactly, you visit different regions.

Le fromage, vin rouge, et pain -- it's beautiful.

C'est formidable.

Every place we're visiting

is within an hour's drive of our home base in Amboise.

And the drives are so scenic,

you almost wish they were longer.

The stately hunting palace of Cheverny

is immaculately preserved.

Because it was built and decorated

in just 30 years in the early 1600s,

it offers a pleasing architectural harmony

and unity of style.

The chateau has been in the same family for five centuries

and the intimate details,

like the wedding dress in the bedroom,

are a reminder that the marquise lives here to this day.

Formal rooms like this,

with a fine 17th century painted ceiling

and centuries-old suits of armor,

feel like museums.

But upstairs, the family quarters feel more lived in.

The library shows a love of music and culture.

The children's room features toys from the 19th century.

And this clock does it all,

showing the stage of the moon, day, and date.

Its second hand has been ticking away for 250 years.

When the Revolution hit in 1789,

many palaces were trashed;

some were even burned to the ground.

But many survived.

Some were lucky.

Some had fast-talking owners with friends in high places.

And others, like Cheverny,

had a reputation for being good to their workers.

[Barking, howling]

And back then, a big part of chateau life included hunting --

and still does.

The Marquise hunts twice a week

in season.

Feeding time for his hounds is 5:00 daily.

The hounds -- half English foxhound

and half French Poitou --

get worked up knowing red meat is on the way.

The master moves them out and spreads out the feast.

The excitement is palpable.

The trainer, who knows each of the 70 dogs by name,

opens the gate and maintains discipline

as the dogs gather at the concrete table.

It's an exercise in canine control.

Finally, he gives the signal and its chow time.

The Loire, nicknamed the garden of France,

is blanketed with fertile farmland

and dotted with historic farms.

A short drive takes us to our final chateau.

Chateaux all have impressive grounds,

but one is a destination

specifically for its landscaping.

For my favorite gardens in the Loire,

it's gotta be, Villandry.

Finished in 1536,

Villandry was the last great Renaissance chateau

built on the Loire.

And all attention here is on its grounds --

arranged in elaborate geometric patterns

and immaculately maintained.

It's a hit with gardeners.

Like so many chateau around here,

this was a pet project of a fabulously wealthy banker,

Jean le Breton, who worked for the French king,

François I, in the early 1500s.

Well-traveled Jean was inspired by Italian Renaissance gardens.

So, when he built his chateau, he created this.

The 100,000 plants,

half of which come from the family greenhouse,

are replanted twice a year by 10 full-time gardeners.

Posted charts and maps identify everything in English.

The place is lovingly manicured.

Stroll under the grapevine trellis,

through a good-looking salad zone,

and among Anjou pears.

The earliest Loire gardens were practical,

grown in the Middle Ages

by abbey monks who needed vegetables and medicinal herbs.

And those monks liked geometrical patterns.

Later, Italian influence brought decorative ponds,

arbors, and fountains.

And harmonizing all the elements was an innovation

of 16th-century Loire chateaux.

Today's beautiful gardens at Villandry,

a careful reconstruction of what the 1530s original

might have been,

are the result of generations of passionate dedication.

The chateaux of the Loire Valley

have been shaped by the ups and downs of French history --

from defensive forts to luxury hunting lodges,

to the target of angry revolutionaries.

Thankfully, many survived the tumult of the age,

and have become appreciated as icons of French heritage.

The Loire Valley with its historic chateaux

has found a place in our collective hearts

and is treasured by those who visit to this day.

Thanks for joining us.

I'm Rick Steves.

Until next time, keep on travelin'.

- So, when it comes to the menu?

- Eat dangerously.

[Rick laughing] That's good.

I can help your army by designing flying machines,

tanks, gear systems, water pumps, and rapid firing guns.

[Laughing]

STEVES: So, perhaps your great-great- great-great-grandfather

used this as a den chair.

VISCOUNT: No, because -- it's a secret, it's a new one.