Sam arrived in my room Saturday night after having stayed several nights in Paris with his Tae Kwon Do friend Guillaume Fennebresque, who nourished him with baguettes, fromage, French gardens, duck mousse, the Champs-Elysees, Notre Dame, wine, and Midnight in Paris. Sam and I hadn't made any explicit plans for what we would do during his day in Tours, so we decided that we would try to hop on to one of the all-day minibus tours that leave from the Tourism Office. Unfortunately, it was a Sunday, and the office was closed, and were unable to reserve a place on any of the tours: we therefore decided to try to visit a few
châteaux on our own, by train. The train station is just across the street from the Tourism office, and, after just a few difficulties, we managed to buy train tickets to the town of Amboise, home of two castles I know, and I hoped that Sam would enjoy; by this time, it was 8:40, and our train was set to leave at 9:15, so we sat in the plaza outside, by a fountain, and I explained a little bit about the history involved in the castles that we were going to visit. For those of you who want a lengthy recapitulation, I've already visited both Amboise and the Clos Lucé twice since I began writing this blog, and you can review here and here (because I know that my readers follow all of the embedded hyperlinks that I leave in my blog).
Just about to board the 17-minute train to Amboise, Sam noticed another guy, about our age, boarding the same train, whom he had met when he was trying to find me in Tours. We all sat together, and he introduced himself as Thomas, a Slovakian student studying abroad in France with ERASMUS. His English was very good: I'm always impressed by people who are truly fluent in foreign languages, and he handled himself in two, both very well, throughout our day. He was also going to visit the two châteaux in Amboise, and decided to join us. The three of us disembarked, and walked through the town that I am beginning to know, somewhat.
We decided to visit the first, Clos Lucé on account of Sam being an engineer. For those of you who didn't read the hyperlink, Clos Lucé was the home of Leonardo da Vinci for the last three years of his life, which he spent working for François I. As the story goes, almost as soon as François became king of France in 1515, he went to war in Italy, returning in late 1515 with an enormous amount of Italian loot in his baggage, including a great deal of Renaissance art. Leonardo came, too, François promising him a castle all his own (the Clos Lucé) and a steady salary, in return for being his local genius. The French king loved to visit the Italian artist at his house, and even used a secret underground passage from the royal castle of Amboise in order to arrive unannounced. The interior of the castle has some interesting furniture and artwork, as well as information on Leonardo's life and achievements, but there is not always a great deal of correspondence between the former and the latter. Marguerite de Navarre, François's big sister, also had a room; she, too, was fascinated by the Italian tinker. (Queen of Navarre, she is author of the Heptameron [modeled on Boccaccio's Decameron],
a collection of seventy stories, and still considered to be a great landmark of French literature.) During our visit, Sam leaned against the very railing that Leonardo did, half a millenium ago, while totally smashed and mumbling in Italian about flying machines. Da Vinci was vegetarian, which I hadn't realized until now, but that didn't stop him from serving up enormous joints of meat to his guests who watched his nighttime firework displays with him. He was quite serious about his kitchen, and he bequeathed his coat to his cook. Downstairs in the castle is a series of rooms full of large models of various machines, devices, and inventions which Leonardo had sketched in his notebooks. His learning covered an enormous amount of ground, from siege weapons, to boats and bridges, to automatons, to water-lifting devices, to ball-bearings, to machines for human flight. IBM had constructed these models, and animated videos of their use accompanied many of the more complex ones.
We strolled through Da Vinci Park, right outside the castle. For those of you who don't remember my raving about this place the last time around, I think it's amazing: the builders have strewn full-size versions of Leonardo's inventions all across the grounds of his former home, allowing people to touch, operate, and climb on the great inventor's thoughts: real, solid, history, that even kids can appreciate. See my FB video from my last visit to see some kids operating Leonardo's tank!
Around 11:40, we walked to the royal château of Amboise, only a few blocks away, but perched at the top of a high hill (seemingly man-made) overlooking the Loire. Our first stop there was the ultra-Gothic flamboyant royal chapel, where Da Vinci is buried (or, at least, the body that they believe to be his). Only a few fragments of the original Amboise (one of the first castles in the Renaissance style in France) remain today, although there are enough salamanders and closed scallop shells around to remind us of one of the castle's most famous owners and occupants. The three of us had an excellent time looking at all of the gargoyles, and trying to understand how they functioned as waterspouts. We found, hidden in a niche, a most un-intimidating gargoyle in the shape of a frog, which was much better preserved from the elements than were the surrounding demons, goats, etc. Gargoyles are amazing. I wonder who built these ones, and whether he decided to put a frog in the corner themselves, or whether he was ordered to. Victor Hugo wrote that Gothic architecture and ornamentation was a humanistic, democratic attack on the establishment of church and royalty. I don't know about that, but I do know that I'll remember that frog for a long time.
The three of us ran back to the train station, and made it in time to take a train to Chenonceau. Sam, who had only slept two hours the night before, was clearly beginning to feel tired by this time.
Chenonceau is one of the most beautiful castles in the Loire Valley, and is the second-most visited castle in France, exceeded in popularity only by Versailles (wouldn't Louis be happy to hear that?). It belonged most famously to Henri II, who gave it to his Mistress, Diane do Poitiers, although Henri's wife, Katherine de Medici, confiscated it following the king her husband's death. But lest I be carried away into chronicles of court scandals, I should say that the castle has been the home of many famous personalities, including Elizabeth I of England, which I hadn't known before. Sam and I had an excellent conversation about the politics of the disgustingly baroque painting of Louis XIV (although the last time I criticized that painting for being so ostentatious, Mom defended it, on the basis of the lace that Louis was wearing -- see FB exchange for details). Anyway, we lost Thomas somewhere, and strolled through the two gardens around Chenonceau. We also wandered through the labyrinth, hopped on a train back to Tours, and had dinner together. Sam crashed afterwards, although he didn't end up sleeping too well this morning, either.
Today (Monday), I needed to go to work in the afternoon, so Sam and I visited a few of Tours's landmarks before he left. We checked out the wonderful cathedral, saw the remaining two towers of what was once a real, medieval castle, and looked at the fountain commemorating American administration, procurement, and distribution efforts in World War I. We stopped for coffee, and then Sam headed off on the train, back to Paris.
Monday is a half-day, but I didn't even get that, to work. I accidentally boarded the wrong bus, and by the time I arrived back at the bus stop, having realized my error, the bus route that I use had shut down for the rest of the day (they're still on strike). I felt pretty bad -- if I had known that I wouldn't be able to make it in to work, I would have asked Sam to stay an extra day, and have planned a real adventure with him. Oh, well. I'll try to take advantage of the time, and use it to go through the notes I have already taken, and see whether anything needs revision. I also finally made it to the post office while it was open, and managed to buy minutes for my French cell phone, although I haven't recharged my phone yet (if I do, the time might expire, without my having had a chance to really use my phone). I'm going to try to redouble my efforts in the archives this weekend. Who knows? My work is proceeding much faster than I had anticipated. I might even be able to finish by the end of this week, which will allow me to transfer to Paris, and work in the archives there, instead. I'll keep you all posted.
~JD
"In the Black World, the Preacher and the Teacher embodied once the ideals of this people -- the strife for another and juster world, the vague dream of righteousness, the mystery of knowing; but to-day the danger is that these ideals, with their simple beauty and weird inspiration, will suddenly sink to a question of cash and a lust for gold" (W.E.B. DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk, ch. V).
We strolled through Da Vinci Park, right outside the castle. For those of you who don't remember my raving about this place the last time around, I think it's amazing: the builders have strewn full-size versions of Leonardo's inventions all across the grounds of his former home, allowing people to touch, operate, and climb on the great inventor's thoughts: real, solid, history, that even kids can appreciate. See my FB video from my last visit to see some kids operating Leonardo's tank!
Around 11:40, we walked to the royal château of Amboise, only a few blocks away, but perched at the top of a high hill (seemingly man-made) overlooking the Loire. Our first stop there was the ultra-Gothic flamboyant royal chapel, where Da Vinci is buried (or, at least, the body that they believe to be his). Only a few fragments of the original Amboise (one of the first castles in the Renaissance style in France) remain today, although there are enough salamanders and closed scallop shells around to remind us of one of the castle's most famous owners and occupants. The three of us had an excellent time looking at all of the gargoyles, and trying to understand how they functioned as waterspouts. We found, hidden in a niche, a most un-intimidating gargoyle in the shape of a frog, which was much better preserved from the elements than were the surrounding demons, goats, etc. Gargoyles are amazing. I wonder who built these ones, and whether he decided to put a frog in the corner themselves, or whether he was ordered to. Victor Hugo wrote that Gothic architecture and ornamentation was a humanistic, democratic attack on the establishment of church and royalty. I don't know about that, but I do know that I'll remember that frog for a long time.
The three of us ran back to the train station, and made it in time to take a train to Chenonceau. Sam, who had only slept two hours the night before, was clearly beginning to feel tired by this time.
Chenonceau is one of the most beautiful castles in the Loire Valley, and is the second-most visited castle in France, exceeded in popularity only by Versailles (wouldn't Louis be happy to hear that?). It belonged most famously to Henri II, who gave it to his Mistress, Diane do Poitiers, although Henri's wife, Katherine de Medici, confiscated it following the king her husband's death. But lest I be carried away into chronicles of court scandals, I should say that the castle has been the home of many famous personalities, including Elizabeth I of England, which I hadn't known before. Sam and I had an excellent conversation about the politics of the disgustingly baroque painting of Louis XIV (although the last time I criticized that painting for being so ostentatious, Mom defended it, on the basis of the lace that Louis was wearing -- see FB exchange for details). Anyway, we lost Thomas somewhere, and strolled through the two gardens around Chenonceau. We also wandered through the labyrinth, hopped on a train back to Tours, and had dinner together. Sam crashed afterwards, although he didn't end up sleeping too well this morning, either.
Today (Monday), I needed to go to work in the afternoon, so Sam and I visited a few of Tours's landmarks before he left. We checked out the wonderful cathedral, saw the remaining two towers of what was once a real, medieval castle, and looked at the fountain commemorating American administration, procurement, and distribution efforts in World War I. We stopped for coffee, and then Sam headed off on the train, back to Paris.
Monday is a half-day, but I didn't even get that, to work. I accidentally boarded the wrong bus, and by the time I arrived back at the bus stop, having realized my error, the bus route that I use had shut down for the rest of the day (they're still on strike). I felt pretty bad -- if I had known that I wouldn't be able to make it in to work, I would have asked Sam to stay an extra day, and have planned a real adventure with him. Oh, well. I'll try to take advantage of the time, and use it to go through the notes I have already taken, and see whether anything needs revision. I also finally made it to the post office while it was open, and managed to buy minutes for my French cell phone, although I haven't recharged my phone yet (if I do, the time might expire, without my having had a chance to really use my phone). I'm going to try to redouble my efforts in the archives this weekend. Who knows? My work is proceeding much faster than I had anticipated. I might even be able to finish by the end of this week, which will allow me to transfer to Paris, and work in the archives there, instead. I'll keep you all posted.
~JD
"In the Black World, the Preacher and the Teacher embodied once the ideals of this people -- the strife for another and juster world, the vague dream of righteousness, the mystery of knowing; but to-day the danger is that these ideals, with their simple beauty and weird inspiration, will suddenly sink to a question of cash and a lust for gold" (W.E.B. DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk, ch. V).
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