But in the Loire Valley, where I spent Easter weekend, the vagaries of winter matter very little. In fact, the incessant drizzle and biting cold only amplifies its mystique. Gauzy clouds hang motionless and the lush valleys reveal majestic castles, bearing the hallmarks of artists and royals and calling to mind another period altogether. We trundled along in the rain at the Forteresse Royale de Chinon, our first stop on the way to the Château du Petit Thouars open house, and dived into history.
*Above: not pita bread, fouée! The ancient bread of Touraine. For more on that, click here. Then the rain gave way to magnificent light for a much different view of the…
I know I shouldn’t even mention the weather over here in Europe these days as I’m sure you’ve already read about the perpetual state of winter. Heavy jackets are like second skins and umbrellas must be permanently affixed to our bodies. I occasionally wear socks to bed to calm the body-hits-bed trembling and I don’t feel well-equipped without my galoshes. By the end of March, we’ve all had enough. In Paris, all of this is especially tiresome not least because everyone’s attitude tanks to a dour low.
