Asking for the moon: finding our house in France, part 1

Shot in the dark

‘Don’t let’s ask for the moon; we already have the stars.’ This is the final line in the film ‘Now, Voyager’ with Claude Rains (born in Camberwell but often played Frenchmen) and Bette Davis. I always think of it when recalling our journey to find our house, which is called, intriguingly, La Lune (the moon). It’s almost 14 years since we first saw it, so I thought I would share with you our adventures. I’ll post them in four parts, since they are too long for one post.

Most people who have bought a property in France have experienced the interminable days driving from one house to the next in search of the dream. We’ve all seen houses described as habitable that are anything but, and could not possibly have been for the past 50 years. We went through all this, but there was a happy ending and some interesting events en route.  

Under starter’s orders…

For some time, we had been planning to buy a holiday home in France with a view to retiring there. The Statistics Freak spent several years working in Limoges in the seventies and became addicted to la vie française. We enjoyed many holidays in France while still living in England. A visit to a French property exhibition in London in March 1997 provided estate agent contacts and yielded some properties to visit in southwest France.

Our plane landed at Toulouse in bright, late April sunshine. As soon as we left the terminal, we felt this was a different continent. We picked up our small hire car and drove up towards Cahors, delighting in the sunshine and the burgeoning green of the countryside. Of course, we were fooled into thinking the weather was always like this and no one disabused us of the notion. 

…and we’re off

We saw 21 properties in five days in the Aveyron, Lot, Tarn and Tarn-et-Garonne. Each time, our expectations rose, only to sink again when yet another house failed to live up to them. Of those 21, only two were ever possibilities. One of them we bought and have lived in since August 1997. The other, an imposing but decrepit white stone Quercy farmhouse, would have been ruinous to our finances.

There were two main lessons that the estate agents taught us. First, that nearly all the properties on the market were being sold because people had overstretched themselves. That lesson averted the potentially disastrous purchase of the imposing white stone house. Second, that every house has its maximum value. Whatever you do to it, you will never exceed it, no matter how many gold taps you install in the bathroom or indeed how many bathrooms you put in.

We also found that the French estate agents completely disregarded our carefully-formulated requirements and showed us whatever they happened to have on their books. We drove miles to places that we would never have considered purchasing. They had an idée fixe about what British people wanted.  

Negotiating the first fence

On our first afternoon in Cahors, we called in at a French estate agent. He sent us off on a 50km wild goose chase to a water mill that was simply inappropriate. We suspected that it was being sold as the result of a divorce. A harassed looking woman with a clutch of small children showed us distractedly around the house, which was poorly restored and badly decorated. We got away as soon as we politely could.

Having extricated ourselves from the woman, who watched wistfully as we drove off, we headed for Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val in Tarn-et-Garonne for our next appointment with an English estate agent. Our adventures there are the subject of Part 2.

Copyright © 2011 A writer’s lot in France, all rights reserved

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About nessafrance

My husband and I moved to an 18th-century farmhouse in SW France in 1997. I am fascinated by French history, rural traditions and customs and enjoy seeking out the reality behind the myths. I run my own copywriting business and write short stories and the occasional novel in my spare time. My husband appears here as the SF, which stands for Statistics Freak, owing to his penchant for recording numbers about everything.
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6 Responses to Asking for the moon: finding our house in France, part 1

  1. Pingback: 19 Years in France | Life on La Lune

  2. Pingback: Asking for the moon: finding our house in France, part 2 | A writer's lot in France

  3. Deborah says:

    Can’t wait! Lovely intriguing title to this post, as is the name of your house.
    Can you believe we bought the first house we saw?! (My husband’s always been a bit like that…) Though, seriously, we knew exactly where we wanted to be, and had a dream wishlist – and when we could hardly believe our luck when we were shown a property so close to what we’d envisaged…

    Like

    • nessafrance says:

      You were extremely lucky to find your house first off. We consider ourselves lucky to have found ours on our first house-hunting trip, even if we did have to see 21 properties in 5 days. We also had a very detailed specification, but most estate agents simply ignored it and we wasted a lot of time visiting houses we would never have considered buying. It all worked out in the end, though.

      Like

  4. Stephanie says:

    This is lovely. I can’t wait for the rest of the instalments. And what an intriguing name for a house – La Lune. It’s beautiful. So true about estate agents showing you whatever they’re trying to get rid of most desperately at the time!

    Like

    • nessafrance says:

      Thanks, Stephanie. We certainly had some adventures, which you will see if you read the next instalments! We can’t find out the origin of the name of our house. It might be a corruption of another name, or possibly of an Occitan word. But its history is lost in the mists of time, it seems.

      Like

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