[Tours]

Tours, above all other of the ancient capitals of the French provinces, remains to-day a ville de luxe, the elegant capital of a land balmy and delicious; a land of which Dante sung:

"Terra molle, e dolce e dilettosa...."

It is not a very grand town as the secondary cities of France go; not like Rouen or Lyons, Bordeaux or Marseilles; but it is as typical a reflection of the surrounding country as any, and therein lies its charm.

One never comes within the influence of its luxurious, or, at least, easy and comfortable appointments, its distinctly modern and up-to-date railway station, its truly magnificent modern Hôtel de Ville, its well-appointed hotels and cafés and its luxurious shops, but that he realizes all this to a far greater extent than in any other city of France.

And again, referring to the material things of life, everything is most comfortable, and the restaurants and hotels most attractive in their fare. Tours is truly one provincial capital where the cuisine bourgeoise still lives.

Touraine, and Tours in particular, besides many other things, is noted for its hotels. Their praises have been sung often and loudly, not forgetting Henry James's praise of the Hôtel de l'Univers, which is all one expects to find it and more. The same may be said of the Hôtel du Croissant, with the added opinion that it serves the most bountiful and excellent déjeuner to be had in all provincial France. It is difficult to say just what actually causes all this excellence and abundance, except that the catering there is an easy and pleasurable occupation.

The Rue Nationale—"toujours et vraiment royale"—is the great artery of Tours running riverwards. On it circulates all the life of the city.

To the right is the Quartier de la Cathédrale, where are assembled the great houses of the nobility—or such of them as are left—and of the old bourgeoisie tourangelle.