Somewhere in the very heart of France — an indeterminate longitude between Parisian hauteur and Mediterranean languor — a deceased château has come back to life, rising out of the countryside like a scene from a Charles Perrault fairy tale. Its buttercup yellow towers, steep slate roofs angled against the sky and walls mottled by centuries of weather — and failing French bureaucracy — are like a mirage to the tired posse of South Africans who’ve arrived, after a full day’s travel, on its red-carpeted doorstep.
We came via plane, train and automobile to spend a few days in this country palace, this castle-like house of turrets, stone staircases and fireplaces big enough to camp in, set in a landscape of big skies, medieval villages and pastoral scenes. It’s imbued with good old, warm South African hospitality, extended by its owner, Pretorian Christo Lindeque, whose first order of business when we arrive is to whip out a large knife and teach us the art of sabrage. From then on, for the next three days, it will be champagne for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Château de Montflour was built in the 15th century as the seat of a local lordship but had spent decades half asleep before, in true fairy tale fashion, Christo and his wife Elbe got the wacky notion to wake it up. In 2021, mid-Covid, the Lindeques bought the château sight unseen — thanks to a hunch, a few online photos and the inspiration of two fellow South Africans.
Artist Louis Jansen van Vuuren and his partner Hardy Olivier had already demonstrated the fruits of impeccable taste and an enviable knack for relocating in style with their renovation of La Creuzette, a creamy 19th-century confection of a home in Boussac, about 30km from Château de Montflour.
They’d drawn a steady procession of their countrymen to investigate and invest in Tardes, a region in the central Creuse department (similar to an English county), before the Lindeques first became interested in tackling a project in France. The Lindeques liked the idea of following in the footsteps of the intrepid couple, who’d made a big impression with their venture. La Creuzette became a kind of way station for South Africans in France and the accidental catalyst for a small diaspora of property owners, ranging from studio-flat romantics to full-blown castellans and châtelaines.
“But when we actually arrived after buying the place, Elbe burst into tears,” Christo told us over dinner on our first night. “She was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the work. For a moment she insisted we sell it again.” But the Lindeques are nothing if not determined. Having built successful businesses in South Africa by the force of their sheer grit, hustle and dedication, they sank their teeth into the project, knowing that, though it wouldn’t be easy, they could make the château into something really spectacular again.
“We could see the bones of something extraordinary,” Christo said. “What we set out to do was more than a restoration. It was about creating a place where you can relax, find yourself and make new friends. We wanted it to be a place of warmth, humour, good food, conversation and connection. These are the things that have brought these walls back to life.” The story still amuses both visitors and locals: who buys a château without ever seeing it? “We knew that if we overanalysed, we’d talk ourselves out of it,” Christo admitted. “Sometimes you just have to leap.”
Creuse, as any Francophile-with-a-spare-country-cottage will tell you, is France off the beaten track. It’s less of a destination than an exhalation, a place where, as the Lindeques have proven, you can get yourself a bargain chateau, advertised rather euphemistically as a “fixer upper”, and set to work turning it into a comfortable home while maintaining its illusions of grandeur. The name Creuse comes from the river carving through the region’s granite spine, winding through hills and meadows, cow pastures and quaint villages that wear their centuries like frayed cashmere cardigans.
Creuse is “slow France” in the most seductive way. Morning runs along country roads where the monotony of pasture is a reprieve from the chaos of the city; markets where you can buy cherries or chinos at affordable prices and everyone knows each other, sharing news over a breakfast beer at the local bar; balmy evenings under wide skies and sunsets that last forever (it only gets dark at about 11pm in midsummer) — all the more time for learning sabrage and drinking in the education.
On one of the three days on our itinerary, we visited the nearby village of Aubusson, where the stories of the past few centuries are told in tapestry, astoundingly exhibited at the Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie, a museum that, with its vast collection of priceless works, surpassed our expectations. Housed in a cool, modernist box on the edge of Aubusson, it’s devoted to the improbable alchemy that turns sheep into myth. The work of weavers, knotting and passing coloured weft over grids of taut warp threads, reveals enchanting images of unicorns and astronauts, Renaissance saints and Martians. The museum galleries chart five centuries of tapestries: mythological figures, royal hunts, biblical floods, elephant processions, flower-drenched garden parties, divine angels and surreal dreamscapes, all as textured and elusive as memories.
Aubusson itself is an enchanting town of cobbled stones, alfresco restaurants and decorative flags lining the streets. The town of Boussac, a day excursion in the other direction, has a character of its own.
Tucked into the undulating pastures of the Creuse department (similar to an English county), it’s a neat jumble of honey-stone houses around a market square shaded by plane trees which, on Thursdays, fills with baskets of cherries, rotisserie chickens, linen aprons, wheels of goat’s cheese and gossip passed over café tables. Lately, if you listen hard, Boussac has acquired a distinctly South African accent. After Jansen van Vuuren and Olivier, some South Africans have bought farmhouses, studios and, occasionally, manor houses in the area, forming a community of pilgrims from the south. One of them is Sunelle Kotze, famous in the village for her antique and bric-a-brac store and her salon de thé, both housed in her home, Chez Sunelle. What a character! Dressed in a tutu, gold waistcoat and crown, she served us French-flag-bearing hors d’oeuvres, fromage and champagne before taking us on a tour of her eclectic home full of South African and French treasures.
It was the fellow South Africans we met — particularly our hosts at the Château de Montflour — who’ve made this pocket of Creuse their homes (or homes away from home) — that were the best part of our days in France. Yes, the rooms at the château are like the sets of a Merchant Ivory film (think Howards End or A Room with a View), dressed in a flattering jumble of French antiques and African whimsy. The sunny fields invite long walks and languid moments of contemplation under a tree. The sabrage sunsets take their time, obliging you to do the same, and the wine-fuelled dinners go on into the early hours of the morning, but it’s Christo’s easy hospitality that really makes one want to return.
I left Château de Montflour feeling faintly more louche than I’d felt on arrival. The road out threaded between meadows and small gates, the towers retreated in the rear-view mirror until they looked like an animation from a princess story. Christo has transformed the château he bought online — like other people impulse-buy sneakers — into a place for South Africans to feel both at home and in a fantasy. Montflour isn’t a hotel, or quite a private home — it’s a place where strangers become guests and guests become something like nobility.
It’s hard not to feel slightly evangelical about Château de Montflour. There’s a gentle, conspiratorial magic there that makes you feel part of a posse. Montflour’s particular gift is the licence it gives you to live like you belong to an older, slower world that values stories, conviviality and a bottle of something pink or sparkling to ward off the heat. You leave fortified by its charm, plotting the next excuse to return, already a little homesick for a castle that’s now a home.
GETAWAY AT A GLANCE
WHERE IT IS: Chateau de Montflour is in the commune of Tardes in the department of Creuse in central France.
GETTING THERE: The closest airport is in Châteauroux, a one-hour flight from Paris. Alternatively, you can take a train from Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris to Paris Gare d’Austerlitz, then transfer to a train to Châteauroux. The train journey is about two hours and 12 minutes. The complimentary shuttle from Châteauroux to Château de Montflour is about an hour.
RATES AND BOOKINGS:
Bookings are open for the 2026 season (April to October). A standard room is €200 (about R4,000) per person sharing per night, including breakfast. Minimum two-night stay.
They also offer a Château Experience package, which is five nights for €2,500 per person sharing. This includes accommodation, all meals, and several excursions including a visit to Aubusson and the Tapestry Museum; a day at the Boussac Market followed by lunch with a local host; and a visit to Le Rembûcher, the home of artist Louis Jansen van Vuuren. For more information, see montflour.com/reservations
Five things to know about the Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie
- Unesco heritage: Aubusson tapestry is recognised by Unesco as part of the world’s Intangible Cultural Heritage, and the museum safeguards this centuries-old savoir-faire.
- A treasury of threads: The collection holds more than 600 masterpieces, ranging from medieval unicorn hunts to sleek contemporary commissions.
- Weaving the future: It’s not just about preserving the past — the cité works with living artists and designers to keep tapestry relevant and experimental.
- Sheep to showpiece: Displays walk you through the improbable alchemy of wool: from fleece to dye pots to vast woven dreamscapes.
- A modern box for ancient magic: Housed in a minimalist concrete shell on the edge of Aubusson, the museum contrasts the town’s cobbled charm with a sleek, almost futuristic backdrop.
Why we loved Creuse
- Rolling countryside: Fields for days interrupted only by gentle rivers and lush forests, perfect for walks and runs.
- Charming villages: Medieval streets, stone cottages and centuries-old churches at dotted around the area.
- Artisanal delights: Local cheeses, freshwater trout and French breads straight from traditional ovens.
- Cultural heritage: Romanesque churches, ancient bridges and a rich artistic history, particularly tapestry.
- Peace and tranquillity: Far from the tourist crowds, Creuse offers an escape into rural France.
