Rick Steves' Europe

Bonjour, I'm Rick Steves,

back with more of the best of Europe.

This time we're living royal in France.

Script, please.

Where are we going?

Ah, side trips from Paris, kings and nobles gone wild.

Thanks for joining us.

In this episode, we indulge in the world of the royal, noble,

and aristocratic extravagance

that characterized so much of French history.

This is the prerevolutionary playground

of France's rich and powerful.

We'll marvel at the ultimate divine monarch's palace,

with fountains fit for a king.

We'll see what 17th century financiers did

with their mega riches...

and then live pretty well ourselves,

settling into our own chateau.

We'll take a break from decadence

at one of Europe's top Gothic cathedrals...

and check out a palace fit for Napoleon.

In France, the region around its capital of Paris

is called the Ile-de-France.

Side tripping from Paris,

we'll visit the Palace at Versailles,

Chartres Cathedral,

and the chateaux of Vaux-le-Vicomte

and Fontainebleau.

France, for centuries the richest country in Europe,

is strewn with lavish palaces, chateaux, and mansions.

After all, until its revolution,

its society was the epitome of that old regime notion

that some are born to rule and the rest of us,

well, just deal with it.

Paris glitters with old regime elegance -- royal parks,

gilded bridges, noble mansions,

and, of course, the biggest palace in all of Europe,

the Louvre.

And when those kings and nobles wanted to get out of town

for some hunting or perhaps an intimate rendezvous,

they built equally lavish palaces in the countryside.

Their favored playground --: the Loire Valley, which dazzles visitors

with chateaux like the grandiose Chambord,

the dreamy Azay-le-Rideau,

and the graceful Chenonceau.

But we'll cover the Chateaux of the Loire in another episode.

This time, we're sticking closer to Paris.

Every place we'll visit: is within an hour of the Eiffel Tower.

And we're starting with Europe's grandest palace.

Versailles is the palace other palaces were modeled after,

the one many tried to outdo,

but none succeeded.

This ultimate royal palace: is all about this man, the ultimate divine monarch --

Louis XIV.

He spent about half of France's entire annual GNP

to turn his dad's hunting lodge

into a palace suitable for Europe's king of kings.

The chateau started small,

just the middle stretch of this grand facade.

That was the hunting lodge where little Louis spent

his happiest boyhood years.

Once king, the massive expansion began.

While today's crowds are tourists, 300 years ago,

this courtyard was a very different scene.

The palace hosted nobles, thousands of nobles,

each with an entourage.

They'd buzz around from games to parties

to amorous rendezvous in their sedan chair taxis.

Imagine servants scurrying about,

delivering secret messages and roast legs of lamb.

And it's crowded to this day.

Smart travelers avoid weekends, come late in the day,

and use a museum pass to skip the ticket line.

The Palace of Versailles was the residence of the king

and the seat of France's government for a hundred years.

It's a long series of lavish rooms,

each with its own theme,

and with every inch sumptuously decorated.

In the late 1600s,

Louis XIV -- shown here with his capable hand

literally on the rudder of state --

was creating the first modern, centralized government.

And in order to personally control as much as possible,

he gathered everything here.

United, under a strong king,

with the continent's biggest population,

a booming economy, and a powerful military,

France under Louis was Europe's superpower.

Around the year 1700,

Versailles was the cultural heartbeat of Europe,

and French culture was at its zenith.

Throughout Europe, when you said, "the king,"

you were referring to the French king, Louis XIV.

French was the lingua franca.

France was in vogue.

You name it -- clothes, hairstyles,

music, theater, table manners --

French taste spread across the Continent.

Louis was a true Renaissance man,

a century after the Renaissance.

An accomplished musician, dancer, horseman,

statesman, art lover, lover.

He called himself the Sun King

because he gave life and warmth to all he touched.

He was symbolized by Apollo, the Greek god of the sun.

Versailles was designed to be

the personal temple of this god on earth,

decorated with statues and symbols of Apollo,

of the sun, and of Louis himself.

The classical themes throughout the palace

underlined the divine right of France's kings and queens

to rule without limit.

Here, Louis is shown with his entire royal family,

all depicted as gods on earth,

ordained to rule without question.

Versailles celebrated man, rather than God,

by elevating Louis XIV to almost godlike status.

Louis was a hands-on king.

He ruled for about 70 years and he was

the perfect embodiment of the absolute monarch.

Louis summed it up best himself with his famous rhyme,

"L'tat, c'est moi!"

"The state, that's me!"

Pleasure ruled at Versailles.

The main suppers, balls, and receptions

were held in this room.

The ceiling is like a sunroof opening up to heaven,

filled with action parallel: to the action right here in Louis' court.

The style is pure Baroque,

which lends itself to propaganda art,

a riot of exuberant figures.

The Venus Room is a reminder that love ruled at Versailles.

Here, couples would cavort,

blessed from above by the goddess of love.

As if to encourage the fun,

Venus sends down a canopy of garlands

to ensnare mortals: in delicious amour.

Louis invited the nobility to Versailles

to control or domesticate them.

The domesticated aristocracy: lived a lives of almost enforced idleness.

Games were part of Louis' political strategy.

By distracting his nobles: with billiards, gambling, and dancing,

Louis was free to run the country.

The good life was addictive,

and under Louis, the blue bloods were hooked.

This was Louis' ceremonial bedroom.

His daily life was a series of symbolic rituals.

For example, while he'd actually sleep elsewhere,

right here, the Sun King would rise

and set with the sun each day.

Once mighty, now domesticated,

dukes and barons actually competed

to see who would hold the candle

while Louis slipped into his royal jammies.

Bedtime, wake up, meals -- it was all public ritual.

The royal bedroom faced the rising sun.

It was the center of the palace and the center of France.

When you understand the themes of the palace's many rooms,

a stroll through Versailles: is a stroll through French history.

The War Room reminds us: that Louis had Europe's leading army,

and his reign came with lots of expensive wars.

Louis ruled from 1643 to 1715.

By the end, he was tired of fighting.

Here in the Peace Room,

peace is granted to Germany, Holland, and Spain,

as cupids play with discarded weapons

and swords are pounded into violins.

Louis bestows an olive branch on Europe,

as his queen cradles their baby twin daughters.

At the end of his long reign,

Louis, having exhausted France with his many wars,

gave this advice to his great-grandson,

the next Louis -- "Be a peaceful king."

The Hall of Mirrors was the highlight of the palace.

No one had ever seen anything like it.

Mirrors were a great luxury at the time,

and this long hall was astounding.

Imagine this place lit by the flames

of thousands of candles,

filled with elegant guests in fine silks,

wigs, and fake moles, as they danced to the orchestra.

Under gilded candelabra and amid busts

of Roman emperors,

servants would glide by with silver trays of hors d'oeuvres.

And from the palace, guests would gaze awestruck

at Louis' amazing gardens.

One more way that Louis proved he was a divine-right ruler

was by controlling nature,

like a god.

These lavish grounds, elaborately planned, pruned,

and ornamented, showed everyone

that their king was in total command.

Only the Sun King could grow orange trees

here in chilly Northern France.

And Louis XIV, he had a thousand.

Fountains -- another great way

for a king to illustrate his power over nature --

were a huge attraction,

a marvel of both art and engineering.

The king's engineers literally rerouted a river

to power these.

While the fountains ran for Louis whenever he liked,

they run for tourists only on weekends.

The Apollo Basin shows the Sun God,

aka Louis, in his chariot

as he starts his daily journey across the sky.

The emerging horses give the impression of the sun

rising out of the mists of dawn.

The palace's backyard is huge,

and if you turn around, it seems to stretch forever.

Versailles was laid out along an eight-mile axis.

You could get lost exploring it --

golf carts and rental bikes make that a fun option

or just enjoy a lazy paddle on the Grand Canal.

Versailles began as a country escape,

but the chateau soon became as busy as Paris itself,

so Louis, needing an escape from his escape,

built this smaller palace buried deep in his vast backyard.

The delicate Grand Trianon was the king's private residence,

far from the main palace.

It provided an ideal refuge,

away from the sniping politics, strict etiquette,

and 24/7 scrutiny of official court life.

With ever more power and wealth,

France's ruling elite became dangerously out of touch

and detached from the grinding reality of its peoples' lives.

Later, French royals retreated still farther

from the main chateau: and the realities of French political life,

ignoring rising revolutionary sentiments

that were turning their society into a tinderbox.

And deep in the garden, you find this bizarre sight --

Marie Antoinette's little peasant hamlet.

She longed for the simple life of a peasant --

not the hard labor of real peasants,

who sweated and starved all around her --

but a fairy-tale world: of simple country pleasures,

so she built this rustic fantasy.

The little hamlet was an actual working farm,

with a dairy, a water mill,

and domestic animals.

This is where the queen tended her perfumed sheep

and manicured gardens,

until that day the Revolution arrived

and her hungry peasantry stormed the palace,

marched her and the king back into Paris,

and eventually cut off their heads.

The revolution rocked the realities

of chateaux both big and small.

And, today, many of those that survive

make ends meet by renting rooms.

At Chateau de Pray, we're happy to help out.

Evocative stairways lead to elegant, if small, rooms

and with the setting summer sun,

the grounds are a delight.

My friend and coauthor of our guidebook to France,

Steve Smith, is joining us,

as he so often does, just in time for dinner,

and we're eating like kings.

And the royal first course arrives.

I'm having the terrine of duck foie gras,

and Steve's having the blue lobster.

You know, Steve, foie gras, to me, when you're in France,

you got to have some foie gras.

It's sort of earthy, it takes you to the farm kind of.

SMITH: I like that, the terroir .

STEVES: So, now, you've got seafood,

but we're in the middle of France

Paris might as well be on the coast.

It's rushed so quickly here.

It's fresh as it would be if we were in Brittany.

And there's no real cuisine unique to this area,

so they draw from all regions in France.

Your foie gras is probably from the Dordogne.

My seafood is from Brittany, I think.

I like that, when you're in a French restaurant,

everybody is talking and having a convivial time,

but there's a sort of a quietness.

SMITH: Yeah, isn't that great.

It's a respect for people's privacy.

It's how the French live.

And we're having some classics for our main course.

SMITH: Beautiful.

It's duck for me,

and for Steve, the lamb,

each served with delicate French sauces.

WAITER: For you, sir?

STEVES: A lot of Americans are a little nervous about

the meat being rare: when you order in a nice restaurant in Paris.

I understand, but the rarer it is,

within reason, the more the flavor comes out.

And I would imagine a chef: would not want to serve you well-cooked meat.

No.

No.

This is expensive, but you could say it's a good value

because it's more than just a meal --

it's a lifelong experience.

He who comes home with the most money doesn't win.

He who comes home with the most experiences, like this, wins.

99 out of 100 of your dinners, you'll forget.

You won't forget this one.

That's right.

This is a lifelong memory.

This is why you're traveling.

STEVES: It's just magic.

Look at that.

Wow.

Down a dreamy, tree-lined road,

there's another palace, which was actually

the inspiration of Versailles.

This is the ravishing Vaux-le-Vicomte.

With an unrivaled harmony of architecture,

interior decor, and garden design,

it gets my vote for the most beautiful chateau

in all of France.

Set in a huge forest with magnificent gardens,

Vaux-le-Vicomte is an absolute joy to tour.

Compared to Versailles, it's more intimate

and comes with a fraction of the crowds.

Take a stroll over the ornamental moat.

Admire the elegance and symmetry of the ensemble.

The gardens stretch far beyond the palace,

but their main axis runs straight through its center.

In this, the cutting edge of sculpted French formal gardens,

the landscaper integrated ponds, shrubbery, and trees

in a style that would be copied in palaces all over Europe.

This was the home of Nicolas Fouquet,

France's finance minister during that

over-the-top reign of Louis XIV in the 17th century.

It all came together: when he hired France's top architect,

landscaper, and decorator,

a trio known as the "brotherhood of genius."

With both a blank slate and a blank check,

Fouquet's dream team made his audacious vision a reality.

An intriguing part of your visit

is a chance to climb through the attic

for a peek at timbers and the structure of the roof.

Then you reach the cupola and cap your visit

with a commanding view: and a chance to survey Fouquet's domain.

When Vaux-le-Vicomte and Versailles were built,

France was slowly heading slowly toward a revolution.

Of its population, about 200,000 were clergy --

those who pray --: 150,000 were the nobles -- those who own land --

and over 17 million -- that's all the rest --

that was the peasantry, the people who work.

Of course, there was no democracy.

Just one king and his ministers --

people like Nicolas Fouquet -- who ran the show.

Somewhat like bankers and financiers of today,

these people controlled the workings of the economy

and amassed unfathomable wealth.

Ultimately, the imbalance reached the point

where society burst into revolution.

Another great side trip from Paris,

marked by another glorious building --

this one dedicated to God: rather than some king or noble --

is the city of Chartres.

Here we see: not the extravagance of rich elites,

but the extravagance of medieval piety,

a sight, which, for centuries,

heartened the weary spirits of approaching pilgrims.

To this day, visitors come to Chartres

to see its cathedral,

and they find that the city itself is a delight.

And wherever you are in Chartres,

its massive cathedral seems to loom overhead.

For over 800 years, the church has attracted travelers

and inspired those who visit.

The earlier church burned in 1194.

It was rebuilt so quickly and lavishly

that it has a much appreciated unity of architecture,

statuary, and stained glass.

It captures the spirit of the 13th century,

the so-called "Age of Faith," like no other church.

The architecture is Gothic,

which was all the rage in the 1200s.

Gothic architects create a skeleton of support

with columns, pointed arches, and buttresses

so that the walls no longer need to support

the heavy stone ceiling,

but are freed up to hold windows.

Chartres is most famous for its stained glass and statues.

It's like a picture book of the entire Christian story

told through its art.

In "The Book of Chartres,"

as some nickname the church,

the text is the sculpture and windows,

and its binding is the architecture.

The individual figures create

a cohesive ensemble and, in this case,

in a cathedral dedicated to Notre Dame, or Our Lady,

it all leads to Mary.

Here she is on her deathbed.

Then, angels gently whisk her upward

so she can sit on the throne with Jesus in paradise,

where she's flanked by angels and crowned Queen of Heaven.

The nave is vast --: over 400 feet long and the widest in France.

And the Gothic structure allowed for plenty of windows.

Chartres contains the world's largest surviving collection

of medieval stained glass,

with over 150 early 13th century windows.

The light pouring through these windows was mystical

and encouraged meditation and prayer.

Stained glass was used to help teach Bible stories

to the illiterate medieval masses.

While the faithful back then may have been illiterate,

understanding the rich symbolism

in each of these windows inspired them to live

their dark and dreary medieval lives with hope.

Shifting from medieval piety back to royal excess,

it's time for one last palace.

In the 16th and 17th centuries,

Paris' booming elite class made this area

Europe's chateau heartland.

Most of these luxurious getaways started small,

as hunting lodges, and then grew.

One of the most fascinating is Fontainebleau.

When it comes to showing the sweep of French history,

this chateau is unrivaled among French palaces.

While home to many kings though the ages,

today, with its iconic and sweeping staircase,

it's the domain of tourists.

The palace is richly decorated

in royal and imperial symbolism,

and its walls are hung with exquisite tapestries.

As you stroll, you can enjoy the artistic shift in styles.

There's stately Renaissance, such as this fine hall,

which dates from 1528.

Overseen by King Francis I,

it inspired other royal galleries,

including the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.

The opulent ballroom, which hosted many royal parties,

is Baroque.

In the royal apartments, these ceilings come with

the giddy extravagance of rococo.

And, finally, there's the more sober

post-revolutionary neoclassical.

The decor of this stately library

dates from the 19th century.

It seems every king, queen, and emperor since

has loved this palace.

Louis XIII was born here, Louis XV was married here,

and after the anti-monarchy chaos of the French Revolution,

Napoleon reigned as emperor right here.

Fontainebleau has more Napoleon Bonaparte connections

than any other palace,

with his personal apartments and an adjacent museum.

Napoleon's throne room is the only French throne room

that survives with its original furniture.

You'll see where the emperor slept,

the oversized desk where he worked,

and the little table where he abdicated.

Grand paintings portray the emperor

and his first wife, Josephine, after their coronation.

Rooms are decorated: in the empire style of the Napoleonic age.

A tent-like room is dedicated to Napoleon at war,

with his small but iconic battle coat and hat,

field cot,

and first-class camp gear.

Napoleon aspired to create his own family dynasty.

To turn his Corsican blood blue,

he married a Hapsburg.

His second wife, Empress Marie Louise,

provided what he called "a royal womb."

The hallway is lined with busts and portraits

of the sprawling imperial family Napoleon created,

relatives he put on various thrones

all across his empire.

It's fascinating: to consider the mix of ideals, charisma,

and megalomania that shaped the emperor.

This revolutionary hero: came out of a movement that killed off the old regime...

only to create a new old regime.

All this royal, noble, and imperial extravagance

and the resulting political upheaval

is not necessarily a bad thing.

I see it as the growing pains of democracy.

It's instructive to ponder these symbols of excess,

once so out of reach,

and today the playground of the public.

Why are today's French so hell-bent

on defending their civil liberties?

Perhaps it has something to do with their heritage

of overcoming abuse of power

to earn their freedom.

Whatever the case, when you travel here today,

it's clear -- the powerful of France's past

have left today's visitors: with some amazing and thought-provoking sights.

Thanks for joining us.

I'm Rick Steves.

Until next time, keep on travelin'.

Life is good when you're filthy rich.

[Both laughing]

[Stifled laughter]

France's ruling elite became dangerously out of touch

and detached from the grinding reality

of its peoples' daily lives.

-Right?

-Yeah.

All right!

Ah, just deal with it.