Buying a House in France a.k.a. life without phone, internet, mobile, TV, a kitchen.....

It’s not easy to rent a house in France – other than a holiday let – without the necessary credentials, status, documentation etc. etc., a situation I have bemoaned before.

 

 

We got fed up of moving every six months and not having our own stuff, so we decided to buy a house.  After having looked at 9,682 houses – well, 73 actually (no, really truly) - we decided to buy one of the first we had seen.  A common occurrence I believe, as looking at a lot of lemons allows the plum to stand out.

 

 

So we reopened negotiations with the vendors we’d last seen in October ’12 and the ball started rolling.  It rolled very nicely, not quickly but smoothly.  There were no building or pest problems as once a house gets over 300 years old the odd crack or incongruity is insignificant – it’s lasted this long and will almost certainly go another 300 more.  Extraordinarily, we were given the keys to the house ‘so we could start moving in and painting and things’ as soon as the cool off period had elapsed!  We hadn’t even paid the deposit and we were in there wielding brushes and unpacking boxes.  That would never happen in Oz...

 

 

We unpacked our boxes and were reacquainted with all the things we’d shipped from Australia, some highly relevant and useful and others not so much (regretting the CDs and clothing, very pleased to have tools, artworks, rugs and most furniture).  I bustled about putting flower boxes on windowsills and organising Alex paintbrushes.  I was delighted with the 4 metre (12ft) high ceilings, Alex less so as they are a bugger to paint.  I started off finding the irregularly shaped rooms and sloping floors characterful and rapidly became cheesed off that this prevents the furniture sitting straight. 
 

 
 

Most of all, though, we were decidedly non plussed at our lack of kitchen facilities and seeming inability to get connected to the outside world via phone, mobile, internet or TV.  The kitchen was easier to solve than the communications problem – we just had to buy things.  All we had was a sink, so we acquired a washer, a cooker (a great little number that would fail every safety test in existence in most countries of the world - the gas canister sits right next to the oven in a tailor made compartment - but is de rigeur here), a fridge etc. etc. from Le Bon Coin and plumbing courtesy of our wonderful neighbour Philippe who slogged for a 12 hour day on our behalf and didn’t even want a beer as a ‘Merci’!

 

 

Getting on line, however, was a nightmare.  We quickly worked out that the house had no existing phone line and we needed an engineer to install one.  Trying to get SFR and then Orange to agree with us was impossible, though.  And in France the TV goes through the internet lines so the whole thing is connected – if you don’t have that you have nothing.  We had nothing. For nearly 3 months. Not even mobile phone coverage. It was difficult, trying, frustrating, at times quite nice and like living in a time warp – we knew nothing of royal babies, Canandian floods or Australian elections – but mostly it was rubbish.  Not recommended.  Eventually Orange deigned to send an engineer round who confirmed we did not have a line and they would have to install one.  This happened very quickly and life resumed its normal structure.  We hadn’t even been able to use internet cafés as the only one within 50k had closed for the 3 month summer holiday (oui, 3 months). 

 

 

We are gradually attempting to get into the groove of life in a French village.  Recognising the locals happens rather quickly as you see them going about their daily business, but you don’t necessarily know who they are. Hence we have ‘handles’ for people, there’s Yellow Clogs Lady, Fat Stuff, Putain and Putain Jnr (don’t ask), Patapouf’s Mum, Scooter Boy, Whisky and Knitting Set, Chain Smoking Man, Fruit Shop in Living Room Family,  Grapes Lady, Newsagent Johnny Depp, Fat Stuff’s sister, Fluoro Girl, Moped Accident Bloke etc. etc.  So far we have only found out Yellow Clogs is Claire and Johnny Depp is Jerome. 

 

 

Adapting to total lock down at lunch time continues to be a struggle and I doubt we will ever feel comfortable sitting on a chair outside the front door having an evening chat and a wine, as the entire village seems to do. They let us off this custom as we are ‘foreign’ and there aren’t many foreigners here, certainly none direct from Australia. 

 

Summer here has been amazing, one long round of fireworks, fêtes, flowers, foam parties, picnics, performances, dinners in the square – exhausting but most enjoyable. And we got to benefit from all the hi jinks happening along the road in Marseillan, too. Oh, yes. We now live in Pomérols, did I forget to mention that?  The one by the sea, not the famous wine one, although the wine here is Picpoul de Pinet which is quite famous enough for me and now we buy it direct from the Cave Co-op for a staggering 1.20 a litre.......
 

There is lots more to tell, lots more to share, so I hope you will forgive the long silence (blame Orange...) and bear with me as I fill in the gaps, the highs and the lows, the trials and tribulations, the wine and the wonder of life in a French village.

P.S. while all this has been going on Alex has lost 15 kilos!  Coming soon, how he did it and pictures!!
P.P.S. while all this has been going on Steve and Jessica have made a baby! Felicitations!!