Romance on the Loire

Hurry up downstairs and grab those scones,” my mom says as she interrupts our much-needed relaxing morning. “The boat’s moving! Get up!” Like Christmas morning, we’re lead to the giant breakfast buffet, and then quickly snatched back upstairs to the still-empty top deck. This is the first time that we’re truly able to make out what life is like on the river. It’s a colorful juxtaposition of life in France. To the starboard side, a herd of cows lap up the brownish-green river water while fishermen get their morning catch, puffs of cigarette smoke blurring their faces in the sun. We pass under many are-we-going-to-really-fit-under-there bridges, and admire birds that decide that the Loire Princess is as good as any tree to perch on—a magical morning to enjoy this stunning part of France.

We consider ourselves lucky today as our boat docks in SaintNazaire, a thriving port city, as we’re given two hours to explore on our own. My mom and aunt run off to a long pedestrian shopping mall. Jason and I walk along the water, admiring the rocky shore and the faroff beaches with small shipwrecks and remnants of giant piers, appreciating the time just being together.

Clisson

It’s a bustling weekday afternoon, and we don’t plan anything, but just walk inland where we wander into an old run-down cemetery replete with sunken graves, rusted metals, and door-less crypts, but we both find such beauty in it. Here, wildflowers sprout from cracks in graves and stand in contrast to the fake and faded plastic flowers strewn along the path.

We continue to just walk down a street a few blocks shy of the packed market, which is lined with “For Rent” storefronts. As we turn a corner, we are surprised to discover a rainbow flag. We seem to have found the only gay bar in town, Le Betty’s (75 av. Albert de Mun). It takes us a minute to muster the courage to pop in. It’s one of those places where people aren’t smoking, but you can still smell the smoke and drink of yesteryear that’s macerated into the wallpaper.

“Are you Betty?” we ask the stern-looking woman behind the counter, and she cough-laughs like Mama Fratelli from The Goonies. We pass the two nearly asleep other patrons, and she leads us to the back patio where she wipes down a white plastic table and brings us our beers in the garden before grabbing a seat herself and telling us about the changing city and how her bar has served as the go-to hang out for decades.

Before jumping back on the boat, we accidentally get trapped in a museum that turned into a total highlight. Once in the Escal’Atlantic (www.leportdetouslesvoyages.com), you can’t get out, you have to walk through the entire thing. It’s awesome though, particularly for those who love ocean-liner history. The museum, which is all in French, tells the history of the city as a famous port, particularly about the building of some of the world’s most famous ships (nearby the world’s largest cruise ship Royal Caribbean’s Symphony of the Seas is being completed). As you walk through various decks and rooms of historic ships you get a true sense of the importance of this region in shaping our world. To exit the museum, guests sit in an evacuation boat that gets lowered to freedom!

Château de Clisson

It’s hard to stay seated in the dark stable where we’re being served lunch. Outside is a garden and château that could have only been dreamt up by a madman. Under the shade of the marvelous, white château are the Villandry Gardens (www.chateauvillandry.fr). One of the world’s great Renaissance gardens, it’s a sprawling display of wealth, beauty, imagination, and science. Jason and I tear away from our tour group that dilly-dallies around the roses. We have a map, and we know how much there is to explore. It takes over 100 gardeners a day to maintain the property. Today, they are busy transitioning spring flowers to summer. Passing the rose and vegetable gardens, we walk down a path of lime trees (all imported in the 1500s) and head up to a small hedge maze. Once out, there is the Sun Garden that’s filled with bursts of colors that ignite like magical spells all coming together in the plaza’s focal point, a fountain. One could spend hours imagining the tranquility and splendor high society must have felt wandering these grounds, and thanks to generations of people who saw their importance, we still can enjoy its magnificence. In the yonder, we spot my mom and aunt and the rest of the English group who have all snuck away, busy jotting down the names of some of the more unusual flowering plants.

You could spend days here, but our bus driver is honking for us to return as it’s an hour drive to our next stop. The Château d’Azay-leRideau (www.azay-le-rideau.fr) that offers another slice of storybook fantasy. This stunning property seemingly floats on a pond. Small rowboats circle the white-stone French Renaissance building that is a perfect example of 17th-century sensibilities. Ornate stone carvings of crests and the French lizard symbol decorate almost all corners. Now a UNESCO Heritage Site, the property is expertly recreated in the style of the late owners.

Scene on The Loire River

There are so many châteaus to experience in the Loire Valley that you’d drive yourself mad trying to visit them all, this is why I am grateful that someone chose them for me. But for those visiting on their own, an entire website is dedicated to helping you plan your visit: www.loire-chateaux.co.uk.

It’s our last night aboard the ship. The staff feverishly is preparing something special for the passengers who are all dressed up to celebrate their final meal together. We enjoy course after course after course of incredible foods prepared by a very young chef. French cuisines seems to just taste better while rolling down a river, we agree as we scoop mountains of fresh mussels in to our mouths. I look over at Jason, and I can tell something is up. He’s dressed in a finely fitted white suite and a suspicious smile. Pouring a glass of Champagne he whispers a happy anniversary into my ear. Just then, the entire crew comes out holding a cake singing “joyeux anniversaire de mariage” to us (Ed note: we’re not married). I’ve always been the person to avoid the whole restaurant-cake fanfare, but it nearly brought a tear to my eye when our fellow passengers all clap for us. It was a message that transcended languages and borders, a unified excitement only found in the shadow of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. “Thank you, my prince,” I say to Jason as we roll down the river.