After exploring medieval hamlets for two weeks straight, we were ready to see something new.  We consulted the map and decided that some chateau hunting in the Loire Valley was right up our alley.

We drove from Blois to the Chateau de Chambord through some pastoral back roads and pulled in behind a tour bus at the immense and nearly-full parking lot of the entrance.  We shed some clothes and toted the laptop and the camera across the flat dusty parking lot through a small stand of trees to the flat dusty ticket kiosk/entrance.

At 12:00 P.M. the entrance was swarming with hungry, sweaty and cranky families from all over the world trying to vie for Croque Monsieur sandwiches at the snack bar.  Those that had successfully navigated the food line were now unsuccessfully cajoling grandma out of her patio chair and attempting to round up children with increasingly sharper and louder tones of voice.  It was generally a madhouse of confusion and nerves.

I sent Jake into the ticket throng, and he emerged victorious 10 minutes later.  We hustled down the path toward the edifice, ignoring the boat skippers on the water and the expansive lawns in the periphery.  I read snippets of historical information about the chateau and noted "Star Features" recommended by our Dorling Kindersley travel guide book while I walked.

When I finally looked up, my first reaction was shocked surprise.  It is so LARGE.  And large doesn't begin to explain its massiveness.  Don't get me wrong - it's very proportional and the details are charming, but its expansiveness made my jaw drop.  Its clearly not super-sized, just opulent and regal in scale.

The landscaping was stark and mostly nonexistent, mainly dirt rising into stone, which makes it seem a bit foreign, like an asteroid catapulted to the earth and truly looking otherworldly.  The residence is a souvenir of the wealth and power of past royalty, something that would be difficult to duplicate in current times.  And on a more empirical note, it had more chimneys than I could count.

I feared the chateau would be overrun with humanity (how was I going to appreciate the view of the diverted Closson river if some scruffy tike was snuffling at the rail?).  But alas, the chateau is so large with 440 rooms and 365 fireplaces (no wonder I couldn't count all the chimneys) that the crowd seemed to thin once everybody dispersed throughout the many levels of the place.

The interior is just as impressive as the exterior.  The DK guide book told us to look for the roof terraces (fantastic views), the vaulted guardrooms (I've always been partial to coffering and the salamander emblem gives it an enigmatic touch), and the grand staircase (aptly named).

I also remember being incredibly impressed with the fireplaces made of rough-hewn stone.  I'm not sure why I was captivated by the massive fireplaces because it was blazing hot outside, but I was so amazed because some of them were larger than walk-in closets.  I started to imagine a numbered Louis completely blotto wandering around the chateau at night and potentially walking right into a fire rather than into his own bedroom.

Back outside, we asked one of the tourist-y gondoliers to take a picture of us in front of the chateau.  He obliged.  All in all, a good time well had.  And only after we pulled out of the parking lot and downloaded the photos on the computer did we notice the large thumbprint on all of our pictures.  Time to clean the lens I suppose.