Nowhere else in all the world will you find a human dwelling so humble
and yet so imposing, so rich in fruit, and fragrant scents, and wide
views of country. Here is a miniature Touraine in the heart of
Touraine--all its flowers and fruits and all the characteristic beauty
of the land are fully represented. Here are grapes of every district,
figs and peaches and pears of every kind; melons are grown out of
doors as easily as licorice plants, Spanish broom, Italian oleanders,
and jessamines from the Azores. The Loire lies at your feet. You look
down from the terrace upon the ever-changing river nearly two hundred
feet below; and in the evening the breeze brings a fresh scent of the
sea, with the fragrance of far-off flowers gathered upon its way. Some
cloud wandering in space, changing its color and form at every moment
as it crosses the pure blue of the sky, can alter every detail in the
widespread wonderful landscape in a thousand ways, from every point of
view. The eye embraces first of all the south bank of the Loire,
stretching away as far as Amboise, then Tours with its suburbs and
buildings, and the Plessis rising out of the fertile plain; further
away, between Vouvray and Saint-Symphorien, you see a sort of crescent
of gray cliff full of sunny vineyards; the only limits to your view
are the low, rich hills along the Cher, a bluish line of horizon
broken by many a chateau and the wooded masses of many a park.
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