Chambord: The Big Daddy of Loire Valley Chateaux

"...we departed thence amaz'd, nay, open-mouth'd..."
--Girolamo Lippomano, Venetian ambassador, 1577

You can get an idea of the scale of Chambord-- the sheer, massive enormity of this castle-- by checking out the picture at right. Driving up the road in the rain, we spotted the castle that has dazzled visitors since the 1500's. Through a gap in the trees (the surrounding area is a 54 square kilometer hunting preserve, larger than Inner Paris), we gaped at the first glimpse of Chambord. "Impressive" doesn't even cut it.

Inspired from his battle victories in Italy, 25-year old François I decided to build the chateau to end all chateaux in the year 1519. It is the singular example of the Renaissance chateau. While off warring over Milan, the king was impressed by Italy's Renaissance architecture and decided to incorporate innovative design features into the stronghold's plan: loggias, terrace, pilaster and horizontal mouldings decorating the facades.

François intended for Chambord to be a hunting lodge, but I guess ambition got the best of him. Ready for the stats? The dimensions are: 156 meters long, 56 meters high, 77 staircases, 282 fireplaces (not little ones, either), and 426 rooms. There is a harmonious symmetry to the feudal ground plan: the central keep is flanked by four large towers, two wings, and an exterior walled curtain.

It was tough to drag myself out of the audiovisual room; I was tempted to watch the 15 minute film on repeat because it uses neat computer-generated imagery to explain the castle's long construction. But the famous double helix staircase beckoned. In the center of the keep, the double spiral staircase links the castle's three floors, winding around a central axis. On the way up, Pierre took one side and I took the other so that we could wave at each other through the interior windows. What is so impressive about these two concentric spiral flights of stairs is that they never cross. It's like a mindtrick-- you never meet the person coming down. Leonardo da Vinci is credited with the genius design.

The place is so vast that signs are placed prominently throughout the stone halls, directing visitors to the chapel, the king's chambers, the Comte de Chambord museum, and other points of interest. (The prized treasures from the Louvre museum-- including the Mona Lisa-- were hidden in the chapel during World War II.) It's like a maze of opulent royal apartments. The furnishings were extraordinary; you really get a sense of what life must have been like at Chambord (though François only deigned stay here for some 72 days out of his 35 year-reign-- I guess he was too busy off fighting the infidels). Above all, I got the sense that the place was miserably cold in the winter. Fireplaces dwarfed the royal beds in size, and apparently inhabitants were often tempted to move to smaller, more comfortable apartments in the winter (lowered ceilings meant it was easier to heat the place). I also noticed an enormous ceramic stove imported from Poland on prominent display.

Ceilings are decorated with intricate carvings which combine François's monogram (the letter F) with his emblem of a salamander emerging from flames. Oddly enough, the slimy little lizard was considered a mythical animal able to survive on fire; hence François's motto: Nutrisco et extinguo (I feed and I extinguish).

From the rooftop terrace, amidst the towers, domes and chimneys which "create a strange fairy-tale village in the air," we could gaze out across the estate's wilderness tracts. We overheard a couple, getting ready to tie the knot, organize the nuptial festivities with the Chambord staff. Fireworks, feasts, the works. I think I'd prefer a more convivial spot.

Check out the official site for some gorgeous, professional pictures with a blue-sky background.