Exploring Château Marouatte: One Last Door

 Exploring Château Marouatte: One Last Door

Part 10

I thought my exploration of Château Marouatte was almost finished.

I should have known better.

After investigating the little pond and discovering the mysterious archway behind the bushes, I looked more closely inside the covered entryway. At first, it appeared to be another one of those wonderfully practical château spaces where things that don’t currently have a home seem to accumulate.

There were extra doors leaning against walls, architectural pieces, large decorative urns, equipment and assorted odds and ends. I think I even spotted a lawnmower tucked away in there.

But then I noticed two partially open doors.

And, after spending this much time wandering around Marouatte, I had developed a very simple rule.

If a door is open, I have to look.

Photo 1

The first doorway was almost theatrical.

A tall, dark wooden door stood partially open inside an elaborate stone surround. The door itself is decorated with elongated Gothic-style panels, while above it is a small leaded-glass panel. On either side are carved stone capitals, and several narrow painted architectural fragments are propped against the base.

Beside it sits another pointed wooden door with remnants of red and green paint around its frame. A huge decorative metal urn, a covered object and even a gas cylinder share the space.

It was the perfect Marouatte mixture: beautiful old architectural elements and completely ordinary storage.

That mixture makes sense in a château that has been repeatedly altered. The official history of Grand-Brassac notes that Marouatte was partly dismantled and used as a stone quarry during the French Revolution, then restored in the late nineteenth century by the architect Dannery, who also introduced some architectural creations of his own. 

So by this point I had stopped trying to decide whether every carved stone, door or fragment belonged to a particular century.

I was simply enjoying finding them.

Photo 2

The entryway itself was worth examining.

A narrow stained-glass window throws jewel-like blue, yellow and red into a wall otherwise composed of rough stone. Beneath it is a small carved medallion. A substantial stone arch opens directly onto the garden.

And then there is that enormous urn.

It is almost comically grand for a storage area.

But that seems entirely appropriate here.

Photo 3

The door on my left was reluctant.

It was already partly open, but I had to give it a little push.

And when it moved, I peeked inside.

Oh, this room was perfect for me!

After all the enormous halls, towers, courtyards, vaulted galleries and mysterious passages I had explored, here was this wonderfully small, intimate room tucked behind a massive wooden door.

The first thing that caught my eye was the door itself. Heavy horizontal boards are covered with enormous decorative ironwork, including a large cross-shaped fitting.

Beyond it was a single room.

A bed.

Pink walls.

A rug over the wooden floor.

A few pieces of furniture and art.

That was it.

I loved it immediately.

It felt almost like discovering a secret guest room hidden inside the château.

Photos 4, 5 and 6

Then I stepped back out into the little entryway and investigated the door directly across from it.

A full bathroom.

And not merely a functional bathroom.

A ridiculously cute bathroom.

A white pedestal sink sits just inside the doorway beneath an old dark-framed mirror. Beyond it is the shower. The floor is especially wonderful, laid out with borders and geometric patterns in blue, terracotta, cream and muted earth tones.

Then I noticed the walls.

They are covered with framed decorative tile panels depicting flowers and plants. Wisteria-like clusters cascade across one panel. Another is arranged almost like a botanical sampler, with individual flowers and stylized motifs displayed in little squares.

And then there is the window.

The tall pointed window is bordered with brilliantly colored glass in deep red, gold and touches of blue. Even the bathroom at Marouatte gets stained glass.

A modern toilet sits beneath botanical tile panels. A wooden chair occupies the corner. A small wooden cabinet fits into the narrow space between wall and window.

It is quirky, colorful and completely unexpected.

The municipality’s description of Marouatte helps explain why the château can feel like such a maze. The complex consists of two polygonal enclosures, with the château proper surrounded by the second enclosure and its cylindrical towers. It also records a gallery connecting buildings, vaulted arcades, a chapel, kitchen and residential spaces. 

But no historical description could have prepared me for finding this tiny bedroom-and-bathroom combination tucked behind two doors.

Photo 7

Eventually I had to admit that I really was finished exploring.

I stepped back outside.

Ahead of me was a narrow cobblestone walkway framed by two enormous ornamental urns. Hydrangeas, flowering plants and greenery crowd the edges, while a pair of open iron gates invites you through.

After all the dark doorways and stone interiors, it felt like being released back into the garden.

I followed the path.

Photo 8

Then I rounded the château one last time.

The building was on my left. A great tree spread its branches overhead, throwing shade across the gravel drive. On my right, the old stone parapet followed the edge of the grounds with the wooded countryside dropping away beyond it.

Ahead, perfectly framed in the distance, was the gate.

That was where I was going.

For once, I wasn’t going to open another mysterious door.

I had spent the morning wandering through courtyards, gardens and terraces. I had looked into storage rooms, followed stairways, peered into the moat, studied plants growing out of ancient stone, discovered statues and stained glass, found vintage audio equipment, investigated a little pond, admired a metal owl and pushed open doors simply because they were there.

Somewhere along the way, my walk around Château Marouatte had turned into a genuine grand tour.

And what I liked most was that it wasn’t really the grandest things I remembered.

It was the little things.

The flowers growing from cracks in the walls.

The modern keypad beside ancient masonry.

The owl beside the pond.

The half-hidden passage.

The doors stored against walls.

The tiny bedroom behind the reluctant door.

And that wonderfully unexpected bathroom.

I walked toward the gate, took one last look around and officially declared my exploration complete.

My grand tour of Château Marouatte was over.

And now, after all that walking, climbing, peeking, photographing and opening doors, there was only one thing left to explore.

Lunch.