St. EMILION, THE DOORS AND WINDOWS and we spoke too soon.

Well, as I hinted in my last post, the UK system of house buying is fraught with difficulties and you can never be certain that you’ll be moving into your new house until you have the keys in your hand - and a lot can go wrong before that happens.

With the paperwork process in place and the chain as short as we could have hoped we returned to France to wait for that process to take its course.

We had a smooth journey to Dover with Daisy in the car.  Towards the bottom end of the M1 we heard a traffic announcement on the radio that due to a crash the part of the M25 that we usually use was at a standstill and there was a two hour delay to get through the “bouchon”.

We had booked a late crossing and a room in a budget hotel in Calais.  As we didn’t relish getting to our room at 3am instead of the midnight we expected we took a quick decision to go round the M25 the wrong way.

It worked!  The traffic was flowing sensibly and the route took only fifteen minutes longer than going the right way round – much better than being stuck in a traffic jam for two hours – and in fact we arrived at the tunnel in time to get on a train a whole hour before the one we had booked.  So far, so good.

Unfortunately Daisy was not impressed with the room.  Previously we have stayed in more luxurious accommodation and she has been fine, settling down to sleep on top of one or other of us – although in changing places she would always make sure she jumped on one before landing on the other so that both of us would be awake.

At our chosen hotel this time she spent the whole night meowing and scratching at the door or window, trying to get out.  It was one of those rooms that are about a foot bigger than the bed all round with a shower cubicle and toilet.

After an almost completely sleepless night we set off for the Loire in the morning.  Daisy slept in the car to make up for her nocturnal activity and we took turns to drive or nod off as the temperature gradually rose.  It was 25˚C as we left Calais and 39˚C as we drove through Tours.  By the time we arrived home, exhausted, it had cooled to a mere 37˚.

Two hours after we arrived chez nous the agent phoned to say that our sale had fallen through.  Our buyers had lost their buyers when a survey revealed some building problems and their buyers backed out of the deal. 

After a second sleepless night, due to the heat and our tossing and turning as we mulled over our options, it was decided that one of us would return to the UK asap to get the ball rolling again.

So, while Nick is in France keeping the cat company, I am back in the UK to make the house presentable for viewings and show potential buyers around.  I showed the house to six couples yesterday, one of which came back for a second look this morning and seems very keen, and I have two more viewings booked for tomorrow.  Come what may, I am handing the keys and the responsibility for viewings over to the agents on Wednesday and returning to France on Thursday while we still have some summer left.

Doors and windows, they have always fascinated me.  It suddenly occurs to me that the pictures I have chosen from the dozens that I took seem mainly to be of rather dilapidated ones. 

WE’RE ON THE MOVE AGAIN!

Whilst my blog posts have been sporadic things have been happening fast in the UK.  I am interrupting my St Emilion series to bring an update.  We are on the move again !!

When we downsized to this house in 2014 we were thrilled with it.  We thought it would be perfect for spending the odd week or two back in the UK, that we could use it almost as a gite for holidays and short stays.  It’s a 1930’s house with a brand new interior, having been renovated shortly before we bought it.  It was a beautiful “move straight in”.

For one reason or another we have never really settled and as we have ended up spending much more time here than we planned we have decided to move on.

Apart from its cuteness and newness, the thing that sold this house to us was the view across the fields at the back.

Only six months after we moved in, we found out that the farmer that owns the fields had applied for planning permission to sell the land for building.  There was a planning application for five hundred houses along the length of the road, meaning that our lovely view could easily disappear.

Then there’s the plight of poor little Daisy.  Because she spends most of her time in our barn in France and is not used to traffic (other than the occasional passing tractor) I am convinced that if we let her out of the house she would either get run over on the road, or get frightened and run away.  Either way we might never see her again. 

So she stays indoors when we bring her back to the UK, or we let her out on a long lead.  She spends her time snoozing in a shady spot or watching the birds in next door’s garden longingly as they tease her mercilessly, hopping within a few yards of her, having learned that she can’t catch them.

So, we set to and spruced the place up ready for the estate agent to call.  Once the pictures were taken my resolve weakened and I had some doubts – with the house looking so good, how could we bear to leave?  But we had made our decision so we put it up for sale.

It was sold after just four days on the market.  (It took just two days longer than the last time we sold a house.) 

This is the house we’re hoping to buy instead.  It’s nowhere near as sexy, an old folks’ bungalow.  As my dad says when any bungalow comes up for sale – “there’s another one fallen off its perch”. And indeed it’s very much that kind of house.

All the rooms are bigger than we have now and we will gain an extra room downstairs, a garage and privacy, as it’s detached with a good amount of space on either side.  It’s in a small, L-shaped cul-de-sac where the road is very quiet.

There are woods at the back so our view is of the trees rather than open fields, but at least it’s unlikely that there will ever be a planning application to build on there.  And of course it’s a much safer place to let Daisy have her freedom.

It is however, a house to do up.  It’s perfectly habitable but it’s decorated in the style of an old person who last did anything to it at least twenty years ago and has done no decorating or maintenance since.

Except for the kitchen, which, believe me, is not as good as it looks!  The estate agent did a great job of making it look great.

So there we are.  I never thought I would be thrilled to be buying an old folks’ bungalow but it’s amazing how one’s ideas can change!

Those experienced in buying and selling a house in the UK will know that there is a lot of water to go under the bridge before we get the keys to our new house.  There is a short chain of only four houses with the empty house at the top and a first time buyer at the bottom so it’s about as promising as it can be, but you never know, it could still all go wrong.  We live on tenterhooks for now!

Bon weekend !!