For the last few months Annette and I have been looking at houses to buy. We have seen spectacular wrecks with more rooms than you could possibly use (short of starting a B&B), expensive grotty hovels, characterless newbuilds and a host of other places that were not what we were after.
While talking to one of the estate agents, and having just seen one of the aforementioned wrecks, the agent mentioned that an old colleague of hers was selling a house in Quarante, our top choice of village to live in. I asked how much it was, and in a slight twist of fate, misheard what she said. I managed to mis-hear by €40,000. Had I heard the correct figure, we would probably have never seen Number 36, and Annette, being all wifely, decided not to correct me.
With many original features, a courtyard and a garage, both of us loved Number 36 from the first site of the ridiculous iron front door. Walking around for the first time, we both had that look…. this is the one.
With it being very much a buyers market, I put in a ridiculous offer to start the ball rolling, and after a small amount of tooing and froing, we reached an agreement with the seller. It’s not quite ours, but the paperwork is in place, the notaire is on the case, and in a few weeks, it should (barring earthquakes and acts of God) be our new home.
This blog will track our progress, including days and days of Ebaying, boxing things, selling at a vide-grenier (French style car boot sale), decorating the old place, decorating Number 36, and all manner of other stresses and strains of moving house in France. We both hope you find it interesting, and perhaps even mildly amusing at times as we move house for (in Annette’s case) the 7th time in 5 years.