Amboise: my first and Leonardo's last

Amboise, the first castle

The first time I went to France, I was nine years old, sitting on top of a pile of blankets and sleeping bags in my father's old green Volvo Amazone in an itchy blue cardigan my grandma had just knitted and which I was therefore obliged to wear even though she wasn't even there. My father had decided to take us to the Loire Valley, an area I had never heard of before. "You like castles don't you?" he asked me. "Well in that case you will LOVE the Loire Valley".

And I did, I still do and I will die loving the Loire Valley.

It is one of those rare spots in the world where everything comes together in a perfect way. The gentle landscape with its silvery blue lazy rivers, the green hills and majestic forests... the creamy white villages on the riverbanks, huddled around ancient churches or crumbling fortresses. The wonderful food and the delightful fragrant wines (these delights were obviously lost on a nine-year old). And most of all, the castles. In every shapen and size, dating from 1200 up until the 1800's, the hundreds of castles make it very clear that the Loire Valley has always been a favourite among the rich and powerful of France.

Abandoning the squalor and filth that was Paris, the Loire Valley was truly 'le Jardin de France'. And so, one king after another started to build royal residences in the area between Orleans and Angers, and many noblemen followed.

I remember that even though we camped out near Blois, the first castle we visited was Amboise. And even though it is not the most spectacular or beautiful Loire castle, it has always been a favourite of mine, merely because it was the first one I saw. Its squat tower dominates the town and the river, and it is hard to imagine that basically only a quarter of the castle has made it through history. I remember my father telling me about horrible massacres taking place at Amboise, with dozens of people hanged from the castle walls, while many others were drowned in the river.

That's so French, I now realize. To come to a lovely, peaceful, sleepy place, only to hear about some massacre or bloody battle having taken place there. It's true for the Somme battlefields and it's true for the D-Day beaches. And it's true for sleepy Amboise, reflecting itself in the Loire and dreaming back of its glory days when Leonardo da Vinci looked over its rooftops from the castle where he still lies buried.

I have been to Amboise many, many times now, and I always greet Leonardo when I see the chapel rising high above the old town. The Valley of Kings is a fitting final resting place for a genius like him.