Casa Rosales

Casa Rosales

Sunday 4 November 2012

Almost France

Once upon a previous existence, pre-children, pre-FR, I was a serious Francophile. Every possible holiday was spent in that beautiful country, eating wonderful food, visiting châteaux, stunning rivers, sleepy villages and speaking rather elegant French.

With friends, I'd visited the Loire Valley, the Dordogne, Avignon, Arles, much of Normandy, the Carmargue - the Lot (ha, enjoyed that one!) I knew people - proper French people, I mean - in Nevers, Aix-en-Provence, Toulouse and Brittany. In 1991, I got a promotion at work and knew exactly what I wanted to do with the extra money - buy a house in France.

At the end of that year, with my then partner, I bought a little cottage in the Creuse Valley in a small village called Lurais. We bought it from a wonderful French couple  who lived in the next village on, one of the most gloriously beautiful villages in France, called Angles sur l'Anglin. Buying was ridiculously easy - we saw it, fell in love with it, signed for it and it was ours on Friday 13th December 1991. After a superb meal provided by  Mme and M. the Sellers, we very nearly spent our last night on this earth at our cottage, as we lit a fire in the huge fireplace, fell asleep in front of it and nearly asphyxiated ourselves on the smoke that poured forth from the chimney. But we didn't - obviously - awakening in time and opening the door onto the freezing winter night, which soon brought us round.

We spent every holiday there over the next few years. At first, it was difficult as there was no bathroom. I guess it didn't occur to us to go down the bar in the village first thing in the morning - though we went there last thing at night - so we went every day to a rather wonderful Abbey called Fontgombault where there were toilets - henceforth known as going for a 'fontgombault'.

On the way back, we'd stop in the village and buy fresh croissants and make our own coffee on the little stove we'd brought with us.

Our next extended visit was at Easter and we travelled all the way with my sister's toilet and washbasin on the back seat - she was replacing her bathroom suite and we couldn't miss the chance of moving towards a 'fontgombault' in our own home! That meant we had to dig a hole in the garden and put in a septic tank. I will never forget balancing a huge (relatively) tank on top of Pru (my 2CV; yes, I really was a Francophile!) - I couldn't remember the word for 'rope' in French and asked the man for 'string' - his face was a picture.

It was jolly hard work, digging through solid rock, bit at a time with a hammer drill and lots of clearing out of stones and gravel, but eventually, the septic tank was in. We turned a door into a window, fitted pipes and tubes and plumbing things, bought a shower tray and a hot water heater - and before long we had a working bathroom. My parents and their friends came to visit and were absolute stars - sorting out electrics, helping with the digging, preparing food and making it feel as though we were on our way to making a home.

Our neighbour, Jacques, was a lugubrious Frenchman, who'd watch us over the adjoining wall, tutting and shaking his head a lot. He was horrified that we ate our lunch late, in the garden - sometimes as late as 2.30pm! He never ate lunch after 12.00. One day, he came running to tell us something. My parents and their friends (always called Auntie Doreen and Uncle Bob) were in the garden with us. Despite thinking I spoke good French, I couldn't understand him - sounded like 'Beneel est mort' - so we knew that someone was dead but had no idea who it could be. Eventually, after watching Jacques running around and around the garden like a complete idiot, Uncle Bob twigged. Benny Hill!  Benny Hill was dead. It was 20th April 1992. Some things you never forget! Especially as this was the birthday of my lovely French teacher mentioned in a previous post.

In the summer, some other friends came out - one of whom was a talented artist and gardener. He had made us some unique and individual tiles to put at the back of the sink in the kitchen. He also spent the week transforming the garden - filling the place with colour and scents. We painted all the walls of the main room and as we sat down on the last evening of our visit, we thought we were doing pretty well. That is, until we all had a sensation of having wet feet. One of our pipes had sprung a leak - it was under the floor and we had to lift all the tiles, fix it and get them all back again before setting off to catch the ferry home!

We eventually got an upstairs floor in, doubling the space and making it possible for more people to stay. Everyone who came helped us to do a little more work. However, it never got to be completed as the relationship with my partner broke down and came to a sticky end. And just over a year later - oh why not give you that date too - 10th March 1996 - the same day as my friend Karen's birthday -  I met FR and everything changed, including where I ended up living. Not France!

The house in Lurais did provide me with some wonderful memories though - not just of hard work - but of hours spent listening to music, playing board games, reading books, talking and eating some excellent meals. Of picking our grapes last thing before leaving and travelling back to England with various bugs and other insects flying around as they escaped the fruit on the long car journey. Of Fontgombault, Le Blanc, Angles sur l'Anglin and some of the glorious countryside nearby and on the journey to and from the UK; of Jacques, our neighbour, and the inimitable Mme Gautier, who wandered past with her goats and her knitting every day; of spending a brilliant week with Lucinda (my Uni and Kentwell companion) and of lying in the garden listening to the hum of bees and the buzz of insects under glorious blue skies. Of long walks and cycle rides and picnics. Of midnight swims in the River Creuse and watching episodes of 'Tintin' on the little television we bought. Of my gorgeous green-shuttered old windows and the smell of the place.



I loved that little cottage. Precious few photos have survived. Apparently, it is cathartic to cut up photograph albums (and clothes and to smash guitars) when a relationship ends...not for me, though - the loss of my photographs will always rankle.

And half of the place is still mine because although the relationship ended over seventeen years ago, the problem of the shared house in France was never resolved. I offered either to buy my ex out, or to sell him my share. He wouldn't sell but didn't have the money to buy either. He still insists he will buy me out. I'm still waiting. And will continue to wait. After all, it's not everyone who owns half a house in France, is it?






25 comments:

  1. I always half knew this story Annie, but seeing the whole thing like this does make it sound so strange. 17 years with half a house in France, and now, so many years since you have spent any time there, must sometimes seem a little odd to you. have you never wanted to take the children to see it ? What does FR think about it ?...and ...you hinted once that maybe a resolution is on the horizon...is it ?
    What a shame there are so few photos ? Do any of your visitors/ helpers have any hidden away in their collections ? Jx

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    1. So many questions, Janice, so much to tell. FR and I have been there a couple of times, once with both Mateo and Ruy, but found the electric had been cut off and it proved a difficult time as it was both cold and damp. My ex has promised to buy me out last August but of course, there was a set back (my fault, apparently, but how could it be other..) and we are discussing the possibility of it being soon. It´s not a large sum, very small in fact, but better than nothing and I refuse to let it go. I know my ex is also very attached to the place but his subsequent partner(s) haven´t felt quite the same way, so it has kept being sidelined in his priorities. As it´s slap bang central France, it´s an impractical option for us to buy now. I live in hope!
      As for photos...it´s a clear as clear in my mind. Maybe I should check with my parents. I´ll do that this Christmas. Axxx

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  2. Oh, I DID enjoy that, Annie.:-) When I first posted about our little cottage in Normandy, you mentioned in passing that you owned half a cottage in France and promised to say more about it one day.

    Well, my patience has been rewarded and it was wonderful to read about your love-affair with la belle France. As one Francophile to another, there really is nowhere quite like it. Mind you, I bet you paid a lot less for your little corner of it than we did for ours 12 years later, when prices had started to rise markedly!

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    1. Oh thank you, Perpetua. I do wish I could have provided a bit more detail and maybe I will when I find some more photos. I adore France and should really have found a Frenchman. I actually thought FR was Italian the first time we met... indeed, he´d just spent five years living there and had an Italian air about him. However, I have found much in Spain to love too....not had much choice!

      The cost of the house...yes, very little. Prices are just beginning to return to the sort we paid all those years ago. It was in a poor state but had been lived in by an old lady until quite recently before we saw it. And in much better repair than some of the others we were shown. If it were just that bit more accessible, I´d be pushing to buy the other half, rather than selling it...

      Axxx

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  3. A lovely story Annie. We walked near Lurais a couple of times last week. next time (which unfortunately won't be until Easter) if you'd like me to, I shall find the house and take some photographs for you. Our friends live in the hamlet of Monteboeuf, near Champagne.

    I hope you get a resolution soon. It seems like win win for your ex, although relationship matters are rarely as simple as that.

    If you do come this way again with your family we'd be delighed to have you stay with us. After all, we were 'nearly neighbours'!

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    1. Fantastic, Gaynor. It is knowing you are so close that has made me write this post, to be honest. Every time I see the word ´Pressigny´, I immediately think of the area of France I almost called home!
      I´m sure the place will be dreadfully overgrown and I suspect Jacques has long since passed away, but IF you were passing next Easter...oh, yes please!! A photo would be wonderful. On the left, just up the hill off the Angles road...it has no spectacular views, nothing to distinguish it but I spent some very happy months there. Thank you.

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  4. What a lovely story Annie..well the outcome wasn't quite so lovely, but your very descriptive writing made me feel like I was there.

    I had a fair number of gite holidays in Brittany when my children were small, mostly on working farms, and I so enjoyed it. I think I was a little bit of a Francophile..I did have two 2CVs in the past!

    I hope you can resolve the issue of ownership. It would be nice to keep it wouldn't it?

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    1. Thank you so much, Ayak - glad to say the outcome has bothered me much less since I had my children, though for their sakes, I'd like to get it sorted out.
      And hello and a cheery 2CV wave! I had only the one, but I did love that too.

      As for keeping the cottage...who knows. If it's meant to be, I'd be happy.
      Axxx

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  5. You write this with such feeling I really hope you end up with all this house in the end.

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    1. Thank you Annie. I'd rather end up with one nearer where we are now! I do keep wondering whether there's a reason why we haven't managed to resolve ownership yet..maybe it should be mine?
      Axx

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  6. You describe so exactly the pleasures of doing up a ...well, not a ruin, but an old house without pretensions...and the 'Beneel est mort' has me laughing still.

    The photographs may have gone...but no one can cut up your memories.

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    1. Thank you, Fly - so glad you like Beneel! He was on Spanish TV this afternoon and I think of Jacques every time. There was still so much to do to the house, it's a shame we didn't get to finish it off, though if we had, I'd be wanting a much bigger sum of money and would be in exactly the same position. I don't want to fight, I just want some fairness. I lost more than just photographs at the end but as you say, the memories are mine forever.
      Axxx

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  7. I had the ex, together with a 2CV - but sadly never the house in France! I have all the photos and would never destroy them. It's my life - the good & the bad, after all.

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    1. How strange we have these things in common! Nilly,I promise you, I have never destroyed a photo - that was a fit of pique of the ex's! Dumped three bin bags full of my stuff on my parent's driveway - I had some stunning clothes back then; even my shoes were destroyed. Sigh!
      And yes, lives are full of the good and the bad. I'm grateful for the lot of it.
      Axxx

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  8. Fabulous story dear Annie. I very nearly had a similar experience in Spain - thankfully we didn't buy in the end so it was just the house here to sort out! That nearly finished me off so in hindsight I am glad I opted out of the purchase in Spain and only my ex tied up money in that property. I have never travelled to France but would love to. Teds best friend has been in Bordeaux for the past few months. After travelling all over the world (he works with wine/vineyards - no idea what one of those is called) he has now met a French girl and I think will settle there so hopefully a trip will be on the cards soon. Thanks for sharing your wonderful story.

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    1. Thank you Sophie. I can hardly believe you haven't been to France - get yourself off as soon as possible, I know you will love it! I really think it is one of the most beautiful places. There's not much I don't like about France except the obsession with always being closed when you need it to be open! It's the only place I have regularly run out of petrol because I misjudged where the next open one would be. Maybe things have changed in more recent years..Do go! Axxx

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  9. Thanks so much for your visit and comment. Over 17 years ago... who is paying the taxes? Why will he not sell you the other half if he cannot afford to buy you out, what a shame, I hope the house is not just abandoned, it sounds like an idyllic area.
    As for it being closed when you need it to be open, things are changing all the time and we have two nearby supermarkets and a hardware store that are open all day. The bank and Post Offices have not changed though!
    I hope that you soon resolve things and maybe you will have more that 1/2 a house again quite soon. Have a good week Diane

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    1. Thank you Diane. Obviously, it's a more complicated story that I could tell here but I suspect I have been too soft somewhere along the way! He's paying the taxes as it happens and I think he has continued to go there quite a bit, though less in recent years.
      I hope the changes are of benefit...I think I am much more continental now, after living in Spain for a while, so I could probably adjust better if I visited France now.
      I still think 1/2 a house is better than none - I just wish we could find what we were looking for here in Spain!
      Axxx

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  10. Half a house in France ... definitely better than no house at all but what a shame it's not a whole house, at least then you could choose whether to use or sell and put the money toward your Spanish home, which I'm sure you'll find soon x

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    1. You say it all here, Annie. On the bright side, half a house IS better than none - but truth is, I'd rather be paid out. A little extra cash would come in so useful in our search here for a home of our own!
      Axxx

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  11. Oh Annie, that was a very entertaining story! It is a shame after all that time that you are not able to buy it, but as you say the middle of France would be a bit far to get to... I loved hearing about you putting the septic tank in your garden; I remember watching my mother and father doing the very same thing, and it's no joke, is it? It totally reminded me of my childhood; the enthusiasm of the two of you staying in a place with no bathroom and building one from scratch. And your neighbour being so moved when Benny Hill died; classic! xxx

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    1. Thank you Hita - and so lovely to hear from you! Hope you're well and planning on a post very soon.
      Putting in the septic tank was a huge achievement - I thought about it everytime I went to the loo! I just wish I'd had the chance to finish it, but it's one of the reasons we haven't ruled out buying an old place here in Spain. I know how much fun and pleasure it is to create something from scratch.
      Axxx

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  12. Do contact if you need somewhere to stay near your half a house at "un de les plus beaux villages" which you mention. Thankfully, after two years without, my house has a bathroom! I've arrived at your very interesting and inspiring blog via La Petit Pressigny,a blogging friend. How strange that I first read of your Almost France, then your Kentwell experience where my daughter was a wild weaving lass for many years, circa 2000, gaining ticks from camping for two weeks! We had to unpeel the woollen costume from her! I wonder what happened to Meg and Mog... I must return...

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    1. How I love this strange small world of bloggers! Thank you so much for your very kind invite - if ever I reach the moment of signing away the house to my ex, I shall have to visit the area and I will definitely let you know!
      Glad to hear of another Kentwell veteran too! I made friends with a person from the village and hopped off for a bath mid way through...didn't fancy ticks!
      Must pop over and visit your site now - many thanks for calling and commenting.
      Axxx

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    2. I do hope you'll pop back and read my Southwold post too, for another little link between us!! It was the mention of Adnams on your profile that caught me eye... Axx

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