In France’s castle-studded Loire Valley, amongst the gardens of Hotel Château du Grand-Lucé, just an hour from Paris, my daughter and I sit beneath blossoming apple trees and fight over a piece of crunchy baguette. Damask pillows, arranged by our loyal valet, adorn the blanket that holds our picnic basket. Comfortably ensconced, we nibble toothsome bits of our chef-prepared, gourmet, al fresco lunch, as I wash each bite down with tiny sips of bright, mineral-y, local Sancerre wine. From nearby, 18th-century Greek-inspired statuary (a gift to the estate from Louis XV) appear to watch us hungrily. In awe, we admire the landscape that surrounds us. As elegant and artistically executed as a Persian carpet, an 80-acre garden unfolds. Flowering rose bushes waft their perfume our way. Geese honk a serenade. Horses whinny. The grass below us is deliciously silky. On occasion we lie flat on our backs and study the shapes made by billowing clouds. Timelessly enjoyable, this moment might be a sunny day in 1750. (Full Story in bio l)