It all began on chilly Frebruary day last year, around Valentine's Day 2006. My husband had just returned from Iraq and we decided it was about time we headed over the big pond to give him the grand tour of my family's place of origin. So we hopped on a flight and a mere 20 hours later (allowing for the missed TGV, his hilarious first attempt at ordering a sandwich in French, which came out as a sputtered 'une sandwiche por favor!', and other little adventures), we finally arrived in the beautiful countryside of the Poitou-Charente. My grandparents picked us up at the station and shuttled us back to their lovely maison near the village of Lencloitre. Ours was to be only a week stay, so we did the typical sight-seeing stuff: visited Normandy, checked out the local chateaux, puttered around in the marchet Saturday morning....meandering over to the real estate office window, naturally...just to see what was being offered. Nothing that spoke to us. So on day 4 of our 8 day trip, we were driving through the little village of Savigny sous Faye when Patrick (that's my darling husband) asked, "doesn't 'a vendre' mean for sale"? Our heads swivelled immeditately toward the house he was indicating and we gasped at its beauty, its perfect form rising from the frozen ground, the arctic wind gently playing with the half-hung shutters...it was love. We stood on tiptoes to see through the windows, our eyes feasting upon the old guichet that reached from the floor up to the 14 foot ceilings, the winding oak staircase that teased our imaginations as to where it led...we raced to the immobilier office.
After a crash course in french legalese ('Pierre -that's my grandfather - how do you say 'interest rate'? mortgage? fixed and adjustable?) we managed to settle upon a price and our adventure officially began. We cancelled our trip to Paris and instead visited the local notaire to create a power of attorney for Pierre, met all the lovely people at Credit Agricole who helped us set up our bank account, prepare the mortgage documents, acquire insurance, and all the other necessities of home ownership...After four days of taking as many pictures as our camera would allow and oggling the structure which in our minds was already fully renovated and decorated, we returned home to the U. S. of A. to begin the transatlantic mail tag which was to dominate our lives for the next 2 months. In the end, we were the proud owners of an old train station in France - three stories, four bedrooms, 3 WC's, one "kitchen"...nevermind the lack of electricity, plumbing, plaster, windows, flooring, or insulation....or the abundance of lead paint, mold, dust, broken glass, chunks of wall, and ancient sagging wall paper (some of which was holding up the ceiling!)...we bought a house in France, and everyone's invited to come and stay there with us! You can imagine that most responses were not so enthusiastic...especially when we had to explain that there weren't any beds, per se, no...no shower either...toilets, nope...not yet!
One year later, here we are, gearing for our first trip back in June (with a crew of 9 others!) to survey the progress and put our own muscle and sweat into the house that we've fallen in love with.
After a crash course in french legalese ('Pierre -that's my grandfather - how do you say 'interest rate'? mortgage? fixed and adjustable?) we managed to settle upon a price and our adventure officially began. We cancelled our trip to Paris and instead visited the local notaire to create a power of attorney for Pierre, met all the lovely people at Credit Agricole who helped us set up our bank account, prepare the mortgage documents, acquire insurance, and all the other necessities of home ownership...After four days of taking as many pictures as our camera would allow and oggling the structure which in our minds was already fully renovated and decorated, we returned home to the U. S. of A. to begin the transatlantic mail tag which was to dominate our lives for the next 2 months. In the end, we were the proud owners of an old train station in France - three stories, four bedrooms, 3 WC's, one "kitchen"...nevermind the lack of electricity, plumbing, plaster, windows, flooring, or insulation....or the abundance of lead paint, mold, dust, broken glass, chunks of wall, and ancient sagging wall paper (some of which was holding up the ceiling!)...we bought a house in France, and everyone's invited to come and stay there with us! You can imagine that most responses were not so enthusiastic...especially when we had to explain that there weren't any beds, per se, no...no shower either...toilets, nope...not yet!
One year later, here we are, gearing for our first trip back in June (with a crew of 9 others!) to survey the progress and put our own muscle and sweat into the house that we've fallen in love with.
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