We ‘Mite’ be Buggered

We ‘Mite be Buggered’

The week before last we had a bit of respite from suffocating in the heat in the motorhome (and being on top of each other getting grumpy) because we went to Beaumont-du-Perigord for a house sitting assignment. The English homeowners got to go back to the UK for a few days and we got to use their lovely Perigordian house and all it’s facilities, and look after their menagerie of animeaux. They have Woody, a Rottweiler crossed with German Shepherd Dog, Belle, a Black Labrador, a goat called Victoria and 3 hens and a rooster!!

Collage of animal antics — Belle and Wood do not understand the concept of “human only” furniture and Victoria enjoys a round of parcour

Our dogs came too and the 4 of them got on brilliantly which was fantastic as it meant we could go on a drama free 5km walk each morning on a lovely circuit which took us up a steep hill, pass a lavabo (that translates to bathroom sink but it’s actually a dog dip), and round past some lovely fields of baby sunflowers and rural houses. Each walk gave us new and fresh ideas for our own house plans.

The animals had come with written and verbal instructions and I had remembered the house owner telling me that they were not allowed on the sofas. I hadn’t remembered though that she had said they were allowed on their own sofa. So, imagine the looks of disgust on Woody and Belle’s faces when I walked in to the living room – saw them on the small sofa and said in the firm dog owner voice “are you allowed to be up there”? Looks of guilt appeared on their little faces. “Get down off there”. Looks of confusion on their little faces. Then “come on – down now”. They both jumped down and huffed into a heap on the floor together. That made me think I should check – so I sent a message – oh dear!! Yes, they are allowed on that sofa!! So, back in the living room “apparently you are allowed on there Woody and Belle so you can get back up”. Bemused looks from the two doggos but up they did jump – although they did give me some sideways glances at times over the next few days as if to check out the new “rules” that had been instated.

We had a lovely few days in the area and bonded with all the animals. I particularly loved Woody, and I think Luka was getting a bit jealous and fearful for his place as my “top dog”. I also adored looking after Victoria and loved her funny little face when I hand fed her toast (she kind of pouts and clicks her tongue).

Also, of great novelty value to us was to be able to use an oven without roasting ourselves too – so I made veggie lasagne, and moussaka in the Le Creuset pots in the range cooker – and dreamed of a time not too far away when I can do this in my own kitchen.

Veggie mousakka — Yummy! And topped with English cheddar cheese which was a gift from the house owners!!

We also visited an English carpenter who is working on a timber framed house in the local area, and it was really helpful to see the infrastructure in this half-finished state to get a clearer picture of how it all works. We are definitely moving away from the brick-built concept back to our original thoughts of timber framed, although I now realise that you can have timber frame with different finishes outside – for example rendered, so if we want to move away from the wooden cabin look we can. At the moment we are undecided.

We have also met with a French company who specialised in timber framed kit houses this week – English guys but have been established in France for 8 years – and this is a promising proposition which we are going to explore in more detail.

One of the nicest things about house sitting was the respite from the constant itch/scratch cycle that I have been plagued with for the past few weeks. Away from the land I noticed that I was not so itchy, but disappointingly when we returned the itching returned with a vengeance. Strangely all the bites on me were in the really awkward places of bra straps, and knicker lines – which puzzled me and so after a few days of suffering in silence I decided to research. I quite literally done a Google search of the words “insect bites on knicker line and bra straps” and came back with the horrific find that my symptoms matched those of harvest mite infestation. It’s common for dogs to also get this at the same time so Luka and Lillie were checked and yes indeed the poor little buggers have the tell-tale signs.

It’s no surprise really when you think we are living in woodland – and harvest mites tend to live in the long grass at the edge of woodland. Well, we are chopping down the “edge of our woodland” on a daily basis. So, the darling little mites are becoming homeless and jumping on us all.

So, a trip to the pharmacy and an amusing 3-way conversation between the pharmacy assistant, Mr Google and myself took place. I came away with cream for me, and spray for my clothes that reassuring will prevent me getting lyme madness it seems.

The doggos were taken to see our neighbour Bernard who is one of the village vets – for an informal consultation which confirmed this – and his advice was to go the vets and get insecticide shampoo. He was very nonchalant about it, explaining the mites are everywhere and its just part of living in woodland. It will get better when we have less rough ground and more surfaced areas – so the next step we think it to build a timber deck on which eventually a summer house will go which will give us some normality of living whilst we pursue this.

So, anyway the doggos each got a luxury spa treatment.

Collage of doggo spas — Luka tolerates his spa bath…Lillie on the other hand absolutely lapped it up!! Look at that face!!

Wednesday 15^th August was the Fete Votive (Festival of Light), which is a bank holiday in France. In the afternoon there were some “Inter Village Games” at the Rugby Stade and we went down there to have a look. It was very amusing to see grown men and women doing the sack race. And then in the evening, as well as music and dancing down in the village there was also a firework display over the Plan D’Eau (the lake) at 11pm. We noticed that there were some barricades ready in place for the roads around the lake to be closed off for the fireworks and as the only way up to our track was along one of these roads we needed to decide on whether to stay down until it all finished or go up earlier. Being a pair of old farts, we had already gone up home by about 10pm and was having a cup of tea when the first fireworks went off. We couldn’t quite see the fireworks through the trees so walked down the track a bit to get a better view and were treated to an awesome display from the opposite side and a higher perspective that the rest of the audience. It was only after it all finished that we contemplated that we were quite probably dangerously close to the fireworks and had the H&S been done in England the four houses up our track would probably have been evacuated as well as the road closures – C’est La Vie.

Here’s my video of the finale of the firework display https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkC-5fkd7v8&feature=share

Sians results — So proud of our clever girl!

Last Thursday was Sian’s A Level Results and when she phoned me to let me know she had achieved the best possible results in both subjects – A* in Psychology and Double Distinction Star in Health and Social Care – we both had a few tears and a few whoops of joy, and then realising I had not got a card ready to send to her I craftily tried to fob her off by sending her this video and telling her I had arranged for fireworks to celebrate!! She wasn’t falling for it – she’s a clever girl is Sian – she was top of her year in Psychology!!

We did have rather a big blow this last week when the knee pain I have had for a few weeks got suddenly much, much worse and last Friday when I bent down in our tiny little shower cubicle it popped and the pain was excruciating and I simply could not get up again without letting out some very blue expletives. A few days of hobbling around and I made my first visit to the French doctors. Luckily, she spoke a little English, and with our pre-prepared account of my symptoms on Martin’s tablet thanks to Mr Google, and a very thorough examination she made her diagnosis. As she pulled a face and made the sign of a cross over my knee I feared the worst!! Maybe my leg will have to come off I thought!! But fortunately, she was trying to explain that I have a sprained cruciate ligament in my right knee!! It’s not torn yet (thank goodness) and hopefully with a leg brace on for at least 3 weeks and the minimum of walking possible for at least 2 weeks followed by physio it should heal. I’m gutted to say the least. It’s not the best news where there is so much to do here on the land, but hopefully although for the time being I “mite be buggered” (see that play on words – I’m not illiterate as you may have first thought upon reading the blog title) – in the longer term I’m sure my ‘jambe bionique’ will sort me out.

Jambe bionique — Bang goes my chances of having a bikini body for the rest of the summer. What with the harvest mite bites on my torso and a white patch on my legs!!

What bastard chose this route?

Last week saw the event that we have all been training for in our daily early morning walks and twice weekly runs. The Trail du Pays du Chataignier!! This was the 6^th event of its kind and is an annual trail running event. Participants can take part in a 12km or a 25km run, or a 12km walk. Initially Nikki, Carol and myself were to enter the walking event, with Martin entering the 12km run and Steve entering the 25km run. However, for various reasons none of us girls entered, leaving Martin and Steve to do it. Oh, and 175 other runners of course!!

The name of the trail translates to the Trail of the Chestnut Land, and it takes people through some beautiful Dordogne countryside – from Villefranche du Perigord, through Besse and Loubejac, and back to Villefranche du Perigord (VduP). During our Thursday and Sunday training runs we have all grown to know the hill that takes you back into the village. It is a horrible hill!! Far, far worse than my previous nemesis of a hill in Ramally Copse which took me years of trying before I could run up comfortably without stopping. It’s not the only hill on the route – far from it, but being at the end whatever run you have done makes it particularly horrible.

So, race day came. I was not taking part at all due to my knee hurting like crazy (see previous blog Bonjour, Buongiorno and Allo Allo), so I took my decent camera down to get some snaps and support the boys. Steve suggested that I go to the front of his house to take the photos of the runners coming down the dreaded hill, which I did. Unfortunately, Martin had told me that the grumpy old French man with the little dog who often trips me up when I hobble up “that hill” is Steve’s next-door neighbour. This is partly what caused what happened next. I saw Claude (the grumpy old French man) in his forecourt, so said a cheery Bonjour to him and ducked straight in the next forecourt without paying much attention to my whereabouts. The only place to tether the dogs was the front door handle, and I noticed the door came open a little bit. Dogs hooked up, I got my kit out and my position ready. Next thing is the dogs are moving around and knocking the door, then a lady opened the door, jumped out of her skin at the two dogs – who had started to jump up at her!! She said “is there a problem?”, and I said “is this Steve’s house”. No!! Oh dear!! I realised what I had done and began to explain. Luckily, she saw the funny side of my mistake, and her husband and daughter came out for a chat and I was offered tea, and water for the dogs. Steve’s house was actually the one next door to that….so I set up base there instead and got some good shots of the runners coming down the hill at the beginning of the event.

The first few back over the finish line were so quick I actually missed them whilst I was having a Café au Longueur outside the Boulangerie, so I drank up quickly and went to the finish line to catch the rest coming in. Martin finished in an impressive 74 minutes – position 99 overall.

On Thursday when we were having our post run coffee at the Café du Commerce the Maire came over to chat to us as he often does (he’s really friendly, and it’s not at all like the Mayor of Portsmouth or Southampton coming over to say hello) and he told Steve (in French) the funny story of what had happened during the race.

Maire and Norman — The guy on the left is our Maire – see he’s really very normal looking. The guy on the right is Norman – he is the butcher. Obviously I don’t really like the concept of butchers (being a veggie) but he is rather lovely!!

Claude (the Maire – not the grumpy old French man with the little dog – trust me there are LOTS of French men called Claude) was running along and a young lady was running at the same pace as him so they chatted. She said the route was beautiful but really hard and hilly, and said “what bastard chose this route?”. Claude said nothing, even though as Maire of VduP it was indeed his choice of route ha ha. Later on, after a bit more chat it was divulged that he was the Maire and then apparent to the young lady what a faux pas she had made!!

It was really hot on the day of the running, and continued to be until a huge thunder storm broke the run of hot weather on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. 2 weeks of blistering heat had begun to takes it’s toll though. It was hard to see at the time, but now that we are back to a much more moderate mid to late 20’s, I can reflect that the weather was really getting to us. We were arguing and bickering constantly!! About everything!! And I was honestly wondering if we were doing the right thing, whether France was right for us, whether we were right for France. But now, sense of humour firmly back in place and things are much more normal. However, I think it’s fair to say that it is indeed a challenge to be living in a 15 square metre motorhome which has no air conditioning, and is crammed full to bursting point. In 35-degree weather it’s like an oven, and watching the thermometer rise to 45 degrees inside makes you feel like you are being cooked alive, even though I bought some little USB charged fans back from the Lake Garda holiday, all they do is make it in to a fan assisted oven by blowing the hot air around!! Night times were hot and sticky (in all the wrong ways), itchy and unbearable, and definitely not an environment conducive to constructive, sensible planning decision making conversations.

So…little was done. But, hey ho!! At least we didn’t decide to throw the towel in (as was certainly going through my head a lot) and also, thankfully I didn’t end up like poor Mrs Turtle who was killed by her husband after a dream move to France to set up a Chambres D’hote business went horribly wrong and he drove over her in his Mercedes after a row. Local neighbours say she wanted him to sell it to pay for a pool but he wouldn’t!! Take a look and see what you think? https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-derbyshire-39886619

The heat makes people do crazy things! It is not all perfectly polished toe nails, hovering tantalisingly teasingly over a glistening pool in the #lovemynewlifeinFrance Facebook posts. There’s a lot of ducks living over here I reckon….gliding serenely over the pond, but beneath the water their little feet are paddling furiously as they try to keep their heads above water. There is no shame in admitting that this can be a hard life at times so I think it is a great shame that people sometimes do not open up to others and admit to this.

Martin and I have had lots of conversations since the inception of this Project and are still firm in our decision that we want to be building a modestly size house that will be sustainable and cost effective for our future. Now that the weather has cooled down and we are back into the swing of things we have been talking to different builders about different options. There is a set of regulations which all new builds currently have to be built to – RT2012. The finished project results in a house which costs minimal money to run – however, the new regulations that will come in to place in 2020 will yield houses that cost nothing to run!! The prospect of this is really exciting as we would have no energy bills – well yes gas if we used that to cook – but no electricity. So, we are currently exploring this.

Meanwhile we endeavour to keep our little camping spot as homely looking as possible. Now that I have the summer kitchen in an event tent, and the new bench that Martin bought I thought it would be nice to go out an buy a few cheap bits and pieces to make it look nice.

These things included 4 metre of wipe clean table cloth.

The design I chose appealed to me for two reasons. Firstly, it was only 2 euros a metre (which as it’s being used outside makes sense as it won’t last forever, and secondly because it has chickens on it!!

The wording Belle Cocotte meant, or so I thought Beautiful Chicken. But, after spending loads of time cutting it up and artistically draping it over every conceivable surface can you imagine how we, as VEGETARIANS, felt to discover that it actually means “Beautiful Casserole). Poor Chicken!!

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

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Bonjour, Buongiorno and Allo Allo

I’m sitting outside writing this in 35° heat and it is nearly 9pm!! It’s been too hot to write, too hot to type, too hot to do anything really. But, as it is a few weeks since I last blogged I thought I should get up to date.

I’ve been away on a little break to Italy with my daughter Sian to celebrate the end of her A Levels and spend a bit of quality mother and daughter time before she heads off to Uni in September. We went to Lake Garda where I was spoilt with the luxury of air conditioning, a shower that spouted forth a continuous supply of water for as long as desired, and a swimming pool! All of this was very much appreciated after a few months of living in the motorhome. As were the spectacular views of Lake Garda every time we went out – such a stunning place to visit.

As always “Gaffe Femme” managed to sustain a few holiday injuries as seems to be inevitable. This time it was (in no particular order)

a burst blood vessel in my left eye which rendered me looking like a vampire for the first 3 days. This was very unfortunate when meeting our fellow hotel guests as they probably thought I was straight out of the Twilight series – or a very heavy drinker!!
a bruised left foot which made walking and jogging painful, and sadly climbing up Monte Baldo totally unachievable
gastric issues of an unidentified nature. My hunch is that it was the red wine vinegar I put on my salad the first night but whatever it was it lasted for 5 out of the 7 days of the holiday and took two lots of over the counter medication to get sorted out, but luckily no need to see an Italian doctor
sore right knee – not sure what happened here but I think it has just come out in sympathy for my left foot

So, let’s just say that I had more than my fair share of unwanted attention whilst hobbling around the hotel with my blood shot eye, grimacing face (from the stomach issues) and limping (from the bruised foot and sore knee).

As well as the injuries sustained we also had a number of “near death” experiences which were fondly referred to by everyone at our dinner table (we were seated with two other pairs as a table of 6) as ND’s. Every evening the other 4 people would enquire if we had had any more ND’s and laugh about our antics. The most significant of the NDs was probably when I nearly drowned off the back of a pedalo!!

At the time it was really, really scary, but we were soon laughing about it!! The most serious ND involved a trip to a public toilet in pitch black….but that really is another story for another time.

Sian was keen to practice her Italian, especially having just had a week in Sorrento already, and a further trip to Venice planned. I imagine by the end of the summer she will live up to the song by Bananarama Robert De Niro’s Waiting

Unlike me of course…. who after a few months of desperately trying to learn a few words of French got completely confused by having to say Buongiorno instead of Bonjour and Si instead of Oui. In shops I was saying Merci Beaucoup instead of Grazia much to the bemusement of people.

Never mind…. now I am back I can concentrate on acting out the lead character in ‘Allo ‘Allo once again!! Already I have been mocked by the old French man at the market for not understanding him talking to me in English.

So, now I am back to no air con and sleepless nights, and the closest thing to a swimming pool is the little paddling pool area I created this week. But it does the job – keeps me cool. We felt bad having our own little pool whilst the doggos were so hot though – so we got them one each as well!! Luka took to it like a duck to water (so to speak) but Lillie was a bit more difficult to persuade to keep still.

However, there was a rather lovely surprise awaiting me when I got back. Martin had done loads of work, levelling off part of the land enough to park the motorhome actually on the plot instead of on the track next to it. And, he had added a few special touches to it – an event shelter to give us a summer kitchen and a new bench. When you have been living on a track for 6 weeks believe me, it is very special to then actually be properly situated on the land that we now actually own!! Yippee!!

Oh, that and a special welcome home dinner!! Martin was in my very good books for at least a day or so for all of that

– but it was soon back to beating him into working hard on the land and this week and seen a lot of hard graft. Some small trees being chain sawed, a composting system made out of old pallets, and the start of a rear walk way at the back boundary being made so that the young children from next door and the lovely, but increasingly aging Alice, will still be able to have a snicket (i) short cut through to the village without encroaching on our privacy.

Our surroundings are constantly changing and evolving and the landscape is not staying the same for a moment. It’s hard to believe that it is just a year since we called by here for “old times sake” to see what had become of Dad and Ann’s forgotten land and now, here is something completely transformed from what it was then, even when they were working on the land it was not then as clear as it is now.

And it’s not just our land that changes the landscape and outlook. The meadow opposite belonging to Madame C (the Portuguese lady) has now been strimmed by her son on his annual month-long visit from Mauritius – and we woke one morning to the sight and sound of a field of sheep. We honestly don’t need any animals of our own to make it feel like we are living on a small holding (but don’t tell that to Luka and Lillie – they might feel under threat of eviction).

(i) Snicket – cut through/alley way as used by people from Ooop North

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

Oi you! Get orf my land!

It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind since we’ve been back on French soil. Our trip down went well, with me following Martin in the new pick up truck. My first time ever at doing the long drive, and apart from a few tense moments involving large trucks and a miscommunication between us as to how long a chain of vehicles I was prepared to risk my life for in overtaking, it was OK – better than I had anticipated really.

The 3 Amigos

Once back in Villefranche-du-Perigord our first priority was to report for housesitting duties for Sue and Paul in Fraysinnet – we were looking after their super cute little wire-haired dachshund called Prune overnight whilst they went off and had some fun. This meant we had the use of their house – including jet propelled shower and a swimming pool – which was brilliant. The weather was not as hot as it had been for the few days beforehand – but still warm enough for me to make very good use of the pool – although Martin couldn’t be tempted in.

Then we spend the weekend busy strimming back some of the brambles and weeds that seem to grow back as soon as we look away for just a few minutes. We remember very well Dad and Ann saying that their frequent trips back to the UK resulted in a perpetual battle of the brambles. We are determined to get a sensible balance between visiting those we love and actually really starting to forge out a life for ourselves here and not let the grass grow under our feet too much.

Monday was a momentous day indeed!! We had our appointment with the Notaire to complete the transfer of land ownership. Because of the lateness in us being send bank details to make the payment we had half expected that the appointment would be delayed – but to our absolute joy we turned up, and one hour and lots of paper signing later – I walked out of his office the proud owner of three small plots of very special, and magical land in rural South West France!! Transfer of ownership document It felt surreal to think that just a few years ago Dad and Ann would have been sitting in that same office doing the same thing – excited with their own plans – obviously not knowing that their dreams would be shattered just a few years later. Part of the reason for us doing what we are doing is to honour their dreams, but of course we have our own dreams to fulfil too. To celebrate we went to Charlotte’ s for a Café Gourmand – something we have been promising ourselves as a treat ever since coming here but never quite finding a good enough reason to have 4 pieces of cake all at once before. Cafe Gourmand

Much to Martin’s disgust my new catch phrase of “oi you! Get off my land!” still hasn’t lost its novelty value.

The first thing we done after this very important RDV (that’s the French abbreviation for rendezvous) was to drive to Belves to the Sogedo office. Sogedo is the local supplier of water. Water, as we have found is such an important commodity. When we drove down in February we had been alarmed to find that the water taps had been turned off at ALL of the Aires on our route to Villefranche-du-Perigord. 100 litres of water was all we had on board and we had watched the level gauge go down and down, realising that our plans to “wild camp” in the Aires was to be scuppered if we could not find one with the water turned on and we would have to find a campsite that was open (also a rare commodity in February). However….we were delighted to find that Villefranche has an Aire that stays open all year round!.

So, the concept of water supply is to us, something that we are acutely aware of it’s importance. Now we have been camping up on the land it’s been lovely in the sense that we can spread out a bit, but a complete pain in the butt to have to drive down to the Aire every couple of days to fill up with water. 100 litres soon goes!!

So, that’s why we were so keen to go to Sogedo. It was a hot, hot day and we had the doggos in the back of the pick up truck, so when we arrived my priority was them of course. We ventured into the office – “parlez vous Anglais” “Non, but my colleague does” – colleague came to front desk. “Merci beaucoup” I said – “but first of all, it is very very hot out there and our dogs are in the car – is it possible that they could come in here”. “Yes of course!”. So, just a few minutes later Luka and Lillie are laying on a lovely cool tile floor, having a snooze whilst we concentrated on the important business of getting a water supply. The trouble was that Sogedo were certain there was already a water meter, and we were certain that there was not. Our previous searches had previously only revealed the isolation tap, never a water meter. Anyway, Corrina the lovely dog friendly French lady said that they would send someone out to sort it out. “How long?” we asked – expecting “un mois…maybe deux mois” as has been the case with EVERYTHING else. You could have knocked us over with a feather when she said “tomorrow”. So, off we went back “home” – really pleased that soon we would have water sorted out.

Next morning, I was at the land alone when a Sogedo van arrived. A bit of an exchange in “a little English, a little French” and the man soon had the water supply turned on at the isolation tap. But now the important issue of the water meter. I explained the best I could that we did not know where it was, he asked where the house was. I said “we have no house yet, we are going to be building one”. “no, the little house”. “Ah, the ruin?” and pointed down the slope in to the woodland. He started to climb down through the thick undergrowth and I said “no, no you will be torn apart with thorns” and showed him the track we have cut through. I went to get decent boots on, and by the time I got down there the man was kicking off get big chunks of dead tree from the concrete lid to a water meter box!! “Voila!” Inside was revealed a very old tap (“be very careful” he said “it is very fragile”) and a 2-foot piece of fairly new hose pipe. l'eau de la vie.jpg Our mystery was solved – this was the water meter that Dad and Ann had installed about 6 years previously – with just 3 cubic meters used on the meter. This makes perfect sense as they would have, like us, needed a utility bill to get other important things like car registration etc. sorted out.

“How did you know it was here” I asked the man – and he said that it was him who closed the meter 3 years previously (it was actually 5 years but in such a poignant moment I did not want to correct him”.

Running water

So….we now have “l’eau de vie” – on tap! Hurry! It has already made such a difference to not have to worry so much about filling up. We still need to do the toilet (back of pick up truck down to the Aire to go into the chemical toilet disposal point) and the grey water (large buckets then thrown in the woodland). But, it’s a good feeling!!

After the excitement of the water I decided to start getting a feel for what the areas of the land will be so that we can begin to landscape it to suit our needs. When I say “landscape” I don’t mean landscape as in your traditional sense by any stretch of the imagination. Just more like organising it into zones. So, I know have a hammock gently rocking in the trees which is roughly in the place where our bedroom will be. Happy in my hammock.jpg

And I have the very beginnings of a Zen garden on one of the dropped terraces – which in time will become a Meditation and Yoga area – maybe with some natural arches providing a beautiful backdrop to my daily practice (which has dropped off of late much to my disappointment). We have lots of ideas and vision for this land. Some of the plans change when we realise that a spot is either too sunny, or not sunny enough for our intended use, but that’s very much the beauty of living in the motorhome up there as we can see how it is 24/7, and as the seasons change. Zen Garden.jpg

The soil is great over here

Our neighbour Violene kindly gave me two baby tomato plants when I told her I was starting to create a garden. For a joke I showed her this photo the next day and told her that the soil must be great in these parts.

Lots of birthday cards

This week also marks Martin’s 59^th Birthday and our 9^th Wedding Anniversary. He had a full letter box of cards waiting for him on his birthday – but actually only one of them really did come through the mail – I played a prank on him by placing all the cards that people in the UK had given me to bring back.

9 years anniversary When we got married 9 years ago we never dreamt we would be living full time in a motorhome on a track next to a bit of woodland – that’s certainly not what he promised me!! But then again, I’m sure he’d say “I beg your pardon – I never promised you a rose garden”. And it’s true – along with the sunshine there’s gotta be a little rain some time. And as I sit here writing this I’m hoping that we get a bit of rain this evening and it’s absolutely stinking hot – too hot really!!

So, the final event worth noting for this week is of course the World Cup. I don’t usually follow the footy but of course when it’s something as important as the World Cup I’ll make an exception. We watched the France v Belgium game on Tuesday and were excited to see them win. On Wednesday we were discussing the potential dilemma that the England v Croatia game posed. If England were to win they would then be playing France. So…who to cheer for!! Country of origin or country of residence? Or both? Anyway, it didn’t pan out that way for England which was a huge shame and would have made this evening’s match very interesting. Then again…as I am writing this I am listening the television at the campsite bar (we came down to watch the match) and France has just won 4:2 – and that’s a really exciting thing!! Aren’t we lucky – to be living in a country that we love and it’s the World Cup holder!! hashtag dilemma

Inlaws, Outlaws and Aliens

Wow, it’s been over a month since my last blog entry. This was a deliberate move on my part as, after careful consideration I decided that I would not do a weekly blog during our trip back to the UK as it was not all directly related to #projectFrance. However, I feel that a summary of our month long trip would be a good idea.

So, we embarked on our 1000km trip back to the UK on 1^st June. The primary reason for the trip back was to provide moral support if necessary for our youngest who has been sitting exams. But also, we had a few hospital appointments, and some dental appointments, and as we left the UK amidst a bit of a drama back at the beginning of May we thought it would be lovely to spend some time catching up with family to update them on how our house building/land acquiring plans were going.

First stop was Broadstairs to visit James, Nicola, Henry and Chloe, and we had a lovely visit to the seafront with them……..and a much looked forward to Indian Takeaway, and an even more looked forward and very much needed bath for me!! It’s not that I hadn’t been showering at all – far from it – it’s just that with only 3 minutes of warm water, showers “a la camping-car” are short and sweet and merely functional. Not like the lovely, relaxing bath with my soothing bath products that I took in their bathroom. Only the promise of the Indian takeaway being ordered was enough to get me out of there. Indian food is something I do miss when in France as there is no such thing as an Indian Restaurant or Takeaway – at least not in rural SW France as are we – maybe in the cities – we haven’t found out yet

We also managed to squeeze a quick catch up with friends Matt and Hannah – who were great friends of Dad and Ann – and it is always lovely to speak to people who know the land well (as they do) and completely “get” what we are trying to achieve.

Then it was off to Chandlers Ford where we used to live. Lots of family to visit here, including my mum, daughter, Martin’s son’s and of course our lovely “daughter-outlaw” Lisa. That’s an ex in-law to you and I. Sadly, a marriage break-up means that she now gets the coveted title of “outlaw” – of which we have a few!! We get on really well with all our “out-laws” – maybe they know something we don’t ha ha!! Enough said about that maybe??? Lisa is also mum to our super cute nearly 4 year old Grandson Max – who we took to the New Forest for some great adventures.

We found a campsite in Ampfield to set up base, negotiated a bit of a discount for a long stay (always on a look out for a bargain and after living rent free for a month in France it was a shock to the system to find campsites cost nearly as much as a mortgage). We were blessed with superb weather for the whole of our trip, and it was really lovely to be able to set up a comfortable base in which we could spread out a bit.

The doggos were delighted to also meet up with one of their favourite doggo friends – Shiloh and the three of them enjoyed a “tail wag” whilst the humans enjoyed a “chin wag”

Whilst in Ampfield we re-connected with old neighbours of ours, who used to live a few doors up the road from us until they saw the light and moved away to a place that is more aligned with the life they want to lead – much like us. They now live in a charming house, with lots of land, on which they can enjoy a life of partly self-sufficiency, and look after some gorgeous rescue ponies – Alwyn and Fergus. Martin quite literally bumped into John whilst out walking the dogs, and they recognised each other. This led to an invitation to dinner and then a return visit to us at the campsite. It was so lovely to spend time with like minded people, and even more so because they are all (including their lovely daughters) vegan – so this led to lots of interesting conversations and sharing of recipes – in particular a kale and chickpea and spelt salad which introduced me to spelt and got me back into kale in a huge way. We were given a guided tour of their raised beds and now Martin has purchased a book to help us on our way back in France. We both felt very envious of their beautiful sunset over the stunning Ampfield woods but of course soon we will have our own stunning sunsets over the woods our of our own kitchen windows.

One of the first things to sort out was to find a Mitsubushi L200 – the vehicle we had decided would tick all the boxes for our needs for a vehicle in France. We were lucky to find HULK very quickly into our trip (named due to his number plate) and in order for me to gain confidence we decided that it would make sense for me to follow Martin and Marsha (the motorhome) around when we set off on our inlaws and outlaw visits for a week.

We also caught up with other good friends, and shared a few meals – most notably the cheesiest pizza I have even had – dare I say it TOO cheesy!! Also, a lovely family meal with Ryan popping over from Bournemouth. And did I mention a fair few Gin and Tonics – another thing that I do miss from England and fully intend to take at least 3 bottles back with me each time for the Gin Bar which I will most definitely be having in our new house.

After said daughter had completed exams and celebrated with family and this anxious mummy was assured that she was happy with how they have gone and was about to embark on a week long bender that would not require parental supervision – we ventured up towards the East of the Country to spend some time with another “outlaw” – this time ex sister in law Sarah, and her partner Gary.

Sarah is the much loved mum of Evan who sadly had a fight with cancer and didn’t win – very tragically lost at the age of 13. Evan’s loss has had a profound effect on all of us. Yes, it was awful to lose my Dad and Step Mum to cancer, but I have no words to describe how I feel about a 13 year old boy having to fight this awful disease. However, time spent with Sarah always is (and always has been) extremely upbeat and fun, she’s funny, brave, kind and clever – and we love her for that.

3 days went quickly and we were soon on our way to my brother Stephen who lives in Colchester. We pitched up at a campsite and picked him up to bring his over for a homecooked curry, a few beers, and for him to do his part of the paper-work for the transfer of ownership. The said paperwork consisted of no fewer than 52 pages – all of which were in French, and had been sent over VERY late on Saturday evening – the French certainly do like living on a knife edge!! Thanks to Google Translate and a huge amount of patience we were able to satisfy ourselves that we are not selling our souls, but agreeing with the succession plans according to French law, and I am buying James and Stephen out of their shares so that me and Martin can build on the land. My comedian of a brother (Stephen) had cracked a few jokes about wanting to keep his share and rent it out to me – but as he was talking in Francs and not Euros I figured he had no idea what he was talking about

Then on to North London to visit the notorious Mother In Law!! She’s actually not bad for a MIL – although I always do find that my dear husband resorts back to child like behaviour when he visits and wants to raid the biscuit cupboard and other boy like stuff!! We were able to do a ridiculous amount of washing at her house, and also give the motorhome a much needed and very thorough wash. Although there was plenty of room to park Marsha the Motorhome on her driveway

we stayed inside the house which was a novelty for us – but I found it a bit disconcerting the first night, to have all that space in a bedroom. But another long soak in the bath was much appreciated and caused me to sleep like a baby the second night. We also saw one of my brother in laws, David, whilst there and it was lovely to update him with our plans for our little house. Whilst talking to them both we realised that we will probably be able to fit our teeny little house twice, maybe three times over in MILs house and I wondered if they think we are a bit bonkers. After all, many of the roads in Stanmore are 2 miles long with only 100 or so houses in them. Now we have spent so much time full time in the motorhome it all seems a bit alien to us to have multiple bathrooms, and enough space in a house to watch TV in one room whilst someone else is in another room.

That was the last stop on our epic round the UK in a week trip, and then it was back down to Ampfield for a few days to see everyone down there again before heading back.

We enjoyed seeing everyone a great deal, but the time spent back in the UK did confirm to us a few things. One being that the roads are so much nicer in France – so quiet in comparison. And also, that we most definitely no longer want the life of a hamster on a wheel- continually running around, getting no-where, trying to earn enough to pay for a life we don’t really want. For that realisation that has come at a time which means we are young enough to really fully reap the benefits of the new life we have chosen, we are very grateful. Our little home on wheels has taught us a lot – most importantly that if it doesn’t fit in a 17 sq metre motorhome we probably don’t need it. We are still adjusting to that life, but it certainly doesn’t feel like a hardship, although we do realise that to some people our lives must appear to be very alien. But, it’s the same for us – we now find the traditional model of domesticity to be quite alien to ourselves – and so, when people’s faces have shown a look of sympathy for the hard life we must be leading without our TV and vast amounts of space we share a wry smile and whisper “if only they knew”.

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

Please Mr Postman

It’s been an active and eventful week this week that’s for sure. Once I’d set my mind to walk 5km every morning I was really pleased that first Nic, and then Carol decided to join me. So, every morning this week at least 2 of us have walked the 5km route – leaving at 7.15am – bright and early to get it done before it gets too hot. I’m not going to mention the small point that the first morning Nic turned up to join me I was still it bed (oh whoops I just did mention it). It was partly her fault, partly mine, a bit embarrassing and resulted in a very sleepy me literally being out of the door in about 7 minutes flat and feeling rather dazed and confused for the first few km.

As the week has progressed the walking group has evolved to a running group as well. Not sure how that happened but Carol knows a guy Steve etc. etc. and before I could say “but my knees are knackered and my boobs are too big to run downhill” it was 0800 on Thursday morning and 5 of us – well 7 if you want to count Luka and Lillie too – were off on the hilliest run I’ve ever done in my life!! 20 minutes out and 20 minutes back.

Running group Luka — Luka is my all time favourite running partner

Running group Lillie — Lillie looking the part in her little running harness

Very hard for me and I was the slowest – but I enjoyed it and went back for more this morning – 0800 on a Sunday!! For a run!! Unheard of in my previous life!!

I have also revived my yoga practice and am now trying in earnest to do 30 minutes most days after my walk. So far this has worked well this week as it’s been sunny and warm and I have been doing it outside, overlooking the trees – which has been a fantastic contrast to my previous yoga studio back in the UK – but I did find I was missing a mirror. But then we doing a pose I caught my shadow and realised I was sticking my butt out the back a bit too much and was able to correct it really well by just looking at my shadow!!

Wednesday was a really active day – as well as the 5km walk we also had all our worldly goods arriving in the removal van. This was exciting and frustrating in equal measures. Back in England we had stressed the limited access to the storage barn, and (we thought) agreed that they would bring a small truck but in the preceding few days via a few frustrating phone calls it became apparent that they were going to bring a larger lorry. So, we were both a little nervous about this.

You’ll see from the photo that it was a challenge for them!! It’s a very steep and narrow slope – it took about 45 minutes for them to get up there!!

Enough said about that – I don’t want my blog to be moany but I was disappointed that they didn’t take any notice of us and also even more disappointed that there were a lot of broken items – luckily nothing irreplaceable but it would seem they didn’t take a great deal of care of our possessions. So, everything we own in this world apart from the things we managed to squeeze into the motorhome are now in storage until we build a house to fill up. It’s a good job we had a good de-clutter before we packed it all as I really do not want to EVER move house again!!

We were very grateful that we were going to our neighbour Alice’s for supper that evening and we had a lovely, chilled out evening with her and as always, a bottle of wine and hearing more of her crazy stories unwound our coiled springs.

Thursday evening was another fantastically chilled evening with friends Carol and Craig. Lovely homemade pizza by Craig, and salads from Carol – and lots of Gin and Tonic and Rose Wine – lovely. All enjoyed sat outside looking out on to lovely French landscape and we were completing spoilt by a stunning sunset – see the photo and I swear there were no filters on this picture. Just simply stunning!!

Friday evening was the Fete des Voisins (Neighbours Day) which was in the village at the Halle – which is the covered market area. Large tables were put out, and everyone coming brings a plate of food to share and some drinks. The idea is to get to know your neighbours. It was a really fun evening – lots of wine, I tried “l’eau du vie” for the first (possibly last) time and got up with some young French girls (and some older English girls) for a little boogie.

Martin finally got around to fixing the post box up this week. The said post box was found in the ruin and previously belonged to Dad and Ann, but we have never found the corresponding post. But Martin found an old wooden post on a rubbish pile down in the village so used that to fix it on – hey presto – our very own post box!!

He ventured down to La Poste to check that we have our address correct as technically we are within the Bourgale estate but our access is via another track. He explained to the post woman that we were going to send ourselves a post card to test it out – much to her amusement! With a little shrug she said the post takes “un jour, deux jours?” So, he posted the Post Card – which has full written instructions for the post man on exactly how to get to us….and waited…………….and waited…………..and waited. Every day, we checked the post box singing this song in our heads

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vAqE0AvEqwAvEqw

Day One – nothing

Day Two – nothing – but we did have loads of junk mail

Day Three – nothing

Day Four – nothing

Then when we thought maybe it had got lost – on Saturday!!

Result!! It’s official – we can now have food parcels sent to us!!

At least now we will have a proper post box to have notes from Alice left it – although I must say it was rather sweet to come home to this on Saturday morning – it was left on our camping table outside the motorhome

She had very kindly agreed to “doggo sit” for Luka and Lillie whilst we attended Bernard’s 90^th Birthday Party – which was great fun. I can’t even begin to imagine what it is like to be 90 years old but he’s looking good on it – and given that he was a similar age to me now when he first came out and was in very poor health I think that’s a very good indicator that life out here could be the healthy option – let’s hope so!!

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

The Princess would like a tower!

Hopping on the scales last week and realising that a multitude of French bread and fromage has led to the inevitable weight gain I have been dreading, has resulted in lots of walks this week. We were lucky enough to bump into our English “neighbour” Katie (I say neighbour loosely as her house is directly above our land but about 1.5km away-so forget the English concept of next door neighbours) whilst out walking on Sunday and she showed us a lovely 5km circular walk which takes in some of the lovely scenery around the Bastide.

5km circular walk

It’s all uphill around here so the walks have been lung busting and strenuous in my attempt to utilise them to replace my previous exercise regime of 3 – 6 high impact up exercise classes a week.

Poppies

The lanes are in full, beautiful French bloom at this time of year and the recent rain, rain and more rain that we have had has really caused the wild flowers to burst out in their Springtime glory.

Poppies have always been one of my favourite flowers – and remind me of my Dad and Ann (as they were in full bloom in Acol (a village near Margate) when they were in their last weeks (and also of my Grandad who I called “Poppy”)

It’s a novelty for me and the dogs to do our walking on roads for a significant part of the route – but I have to say it is a breath of fresh air to be able to count on one hand the number of cars that pass us – and ALL without exception slow down to pass us. There’s also loads of wild life – including cows, donkeys and even deer.

Hee Haw 2

Deer — Almost looks like a painting on the side of the house – there were two of them – so close to us

Whilst out on the many walks and drives we have done over the last 2 weeks we have pondered over our choice of style for the house which we will be building. Initially our plans had been to build a simple, single story wooden house, then we changed our mind and decided to go for a brick built house – two rectangles joined together in a lazy V shape. But, seeing the lovely French farmhouses with their quirky, often irregular shapes got me thinking again that we should be putting something a little different into our design.

Tower through the trees — The Bourg Tower showing it’s beautiful medieval splendour through the trees

So after much pondering, and a fly away comment to Peter the retired architect (“you should get up high to see the view”) it was decided – The Princess would like a tower!! Not a massive, huge Rapunzel, medieval tower – just a nice, sensible sized tower to get up high and be able read the gazillions of books that we have accumulated over the past decade in the hope that one day we would build a reading loft somewhere in the Dordogne!! That sort of tower!!

So, when our builder Laurent came for an RDV (that’s rendezvous to you and I) we told him of the changes and between our bit of French, his bit of English, and Google translate – we came up with a plan to take the new ideas forward. We’re hoping that by taking a few bits from the original plans (like electric shutters (which we didn’t want anyway) and the terrace (which we will do at a later date)) the quote for the new improved “maison avec tower” will come in about the same as before. Fingers (and everything else) crossed!! This photo is not the plans for our house – but this is a style similar to what we are hoping for.

Plans for the house style we like — No swimming pool for us, and also no undercover terrace – but this is pretty much what we are aiming for shape wise. We will add character to this with wooden shutters and decorative brickwork

So, that’s all very exciting!!

Also exciting is the news that the geneologists report has FINALLY arrived, and to our great relief there are just the three of us spawned to my dad!! No wild oat sowing on his part to worry about!! So, the transfer of ownership for the land can now be done. Disapointingly though it’s taken all week to pin down the Notaire to any news of progress and we are still waiting to here!! The French system is certainly sent to try us.

Someone said to me this week “when you first move to France you wonder if you have made the right decision, you wonder if this is the right country for you as everything seems to go wrong”. It’s so true……it feels as if it is just us who are being subjected to the ridiculous lengths of time to get things sorted out – but it’s not just us – it’s just the way it is!! Tres slow!! We need to adapt and to learn patience, and also resilience – and plenty of it – as things change constantly – they rarely go to plan – we just need to go with the flow. And take time to stop for a while and enjoy our beautiful surroundings and have fun.

And celebrate the small successes and progress – like getting to the end of the bit of strimming that revealed the lovely view of the village nestled below us. A village is revealed

Settling in around town

So…. we’ve been here for just over a week now, and things have been really busy – non-stop in fact!!

There’s been the serious business of trying to progress the transfer of ownership to deal with, and the even more important business of socialising to contend with!!

Our social calendars are buzzing!! We’ve been for more coffee dates, and meals out than we have done for ages!! It’s lovely! We are feeling as if we are becoming well integrated with the local community – albeit that is mostly – but not exclusively – the English community. It’s all good though. The Maire recognised me when I popped in to his store for some veg, and a few other French people have also recognised us when we have been out and about.

Living life in a van (after all that’s what our motorhome is – a Fiat Ducato that has been converted to include a living space) has its challenges. We are quite literally on top of each other for 24 hours a day – and it’s a small space……and tempers fray!! It’s important to find ways to overcome this, and one of the ways we do it is to not do “everything” together. So, for example, I will stay in bed whilst Martin goes to the boulangerie in the morning with the dogs – that’s after he has made me a mug of coffee!! Oh, I suppose that’s not really the right spirit is it? It’s not far – here’s his route: –

Pain run

But I have to confess that it was bliss to spend last Saturday morning slowly wandering around the village market and then having a peaceful cup of tea in the café watching the world go by – all on my own. Little things like that go a long way to help us not be in too close proximity.

Solitude and tea

We have been very fortunate that we have now managed to clear the land enough to drive the motorhome up on to the track next to it – and most nights we have been sleeping up here, although we did spend one night back down in the Aire – more about that in another blog I think.

Parked in the track

The first night we didn’t know what to expect – we wondered if the doggos would bark all night at the strange animal sounds – but no, they slept soundly – as did we. The second night we were both woken by a really loud hoot and screech of an owl – really close by! Lovely to hear and a very vivid reminder that we really are in the middle of the woods here. It’s really lovely, very enchanted and we feel very lucky to be embarking on this adventure

Memorial service

Tuesday was the Fete du Printemps – the Spring Fair – which started at 0800 but at 1130 there was a memorial ceremony up at the war memorial outside the Town Hall to mark Armistice Day – the French mark both the 1^st and 2^nd World War endings. Naturally we could understand very little – but we listened anyhow and tried to take in the general meaning of what the speeches were about.

Our friend Carol sang in the choir – they performed the French National Anthem – La Marseillaise – which was “Tres Bonne” to hear. There were lots of beautiful things to buy at the fair – we are trying to avoid buying “stuff” as we have such a limited space to keep it in, so it was mostly food we bought. I approached a nice looking food stall being run by a nice looking French man and made a brave attempt at my most recently learned French phase – “Pardon, ma Francais ce n’est pas tres bonne” (sorry, my French is not very good) and then “avez vous any vegetarienne” (have you any vegetarian) to which he laughed and said – it’s OK I’ll speak English then – and told me that just about everything was vegetarian – I was really pleased that a French fete had some veggie choices – not at all what my fears had been. Even more so later in the day when we discovered that the crepes and gallettes stand had a vegan option for a crepe – tofu and mushroom. I was naughty though and had 2 fromages!!

All day people were praising the dogs – everyone loves the doggos and comment on how they just lay down, really calm – just waiting for something interesting to happen – or a piece of sausage to fly their way more like. Doggos at the Spring Fair

Then in the evening we went along to the Café de La Poste to watch the local ex pats play pool – and again everyone just loves the doggos – they are settling in really well.

We’re becoming more French by the day – we do the French kissing thing – and we now have a French bank account. The day we met with Brieuc at the local branch of Credit Agricole to set that up was very amusing. We had finished our business with him and were standing in the little foyer just chatting to him. Unlike in England we can take the dogs pretty much everywhere so they had been in his office with us, and they were just minding their own business by our feet. Then someone came in to use the cash point and the dogs leapt up and starting barking excitedly – then we realised it was our friend Carole – who of course the dogs recognised and she probably had treats for her own dog Panda. We all said hello – and Carole gave me the obligatory kiss on each cheek – French style – then Martin and then she turned to Brieuc and kissed him. I just assumed she knew him from the bank and as she has been out here 21 years it was quite feasible that they had become very friendly. I thought nothing more of it until we went over on Sunday for afternoon tea with Carole and Bernard and she confessed her “faux pas” – she had thought Brieuc was with us – maybe even James – and kissed him without thinking. I bet he had quite a shock!!

Top of the range Cadac

So, as I sit here it is 8.30pm on Friday evening – it’s 24 degrees – nice and cool in comparison to the sweltering heat we had earlier today. We’ve had our dinner – cooked outside on the new top of the range Cadac my darling husband bought me to soften the blow of not having a proper kitchen for a year, and we’ve had our Gin and Tonic in the sun (and also a sneaky little after dinner snooze) and I’m thinking – it’s only a grass track – but it’s our grass track!! And it’s our little piece of quietness, and solitude…. And heaven.

And if this is to be our temporary home for the next 12 – 18 months (or longer if the French system doesn’t speed up somewhat) then that won’t be so bad will it.

Better go now before the grass (quite literally) grows under our feet!!

The Back Story

The Back Story

Rewind to August 2008 – my Dad turned 70 and finally made the decision to give up work and follow his and Ann’s (my lovely step-mum) dream of moving to France. Their house in Frinton went up for rent, they disposed of pretty much all of their belongings and made plans to set off Dans Le Continent in his dated old Volvo.

After some months of exploring their favourite region of France – The Dordogne – they fell in love with Villefranche-du-Perigord and decided that this was “the place”. They rented out a holiday let – La Borie Grande in the outskirts of Villefranche-du-Perigord – whilst they searched for a suitable plot of land to build a house.

To cut a long story short – a fair few months of searching and also a change of rental property to “David” in Lavaur (just outside Villefranche-du-Perigord) (very ironic as Dad’s name is David) they found their dream plot of land through new found friends Bernard and Carole.

Martin and I visited them out in France a few times – and we could see why they loved Villefranche du Perigord so much – it really is the most magical of villages – it’s actually a 12^th and 13^th Century Bastide Town – so there any many original buildings which resemble mini castles with their turrets and gothic arches. It’s stunning!! Even so, we did find it a bit “sleepy” for us, so we firmly “parked” any ideas that popped in to our heads about ourselves making the move over there.

As well as our visits out to them in France, Dad and Ann also popped back to the UK frequently and stayed with us. On one of these occasions they showed us the outline plans they had for the plot of land that had found, both so excited about their plans – but especially Dad. He wanted to spend hours on the Internet looking for small wooden self-build houses as that was what they had planned for the plot. It all sounded really idyllic and we planned to visit them out in France again that coming summer so we could see for ourselves.

When we visited them, we stayed with them at “David” – camping in our Landrover’s roof tent whilst the kids stayed in the house with them, and they took us out and about to all the surrounding towns and markets, and also a few times to show us the land. When we first saw the land, I have to be perfectly honest and say that I thought they were completely bonkers!!! Perhaps it was the way they drove us in through back roads, or maybe it was the slow speed of Ann’s driving (she was renowned for crawling along nervously like a snail bless her) but we left there with the perception it was miles away from anywhere. We were concerned that they would get old and immobile and be living in the middle of the sticks and starve to death in the Winter. But we said nothing as their excitement and passion for their project was so clear and apparent – why spoil that? – I never saw my Dad so happy about anything in his life as when he talked about “the land”.

Dad and Ann had cleared the top part of the land really well when we saw it, and we could envisage their plans for where the house would go. But the lower part of the plot was still like a jungle, and me with my terrible fear of creepy crawlies, found it really difficult making the steep climb downhill through bushes towards the old ruined buildings. Dad’s enthusiasm for these two buildings however was equal to my horror at them. I did politely go down for a quick viewing of the large one, but once I saw huge cobwebs on the lintels I declined a quick peep inside and hastily made my way back up.

We did leave France thinking that what they were doing was all very lovely, but a bit crazy to say the least!!

So, over the next few years they worked really hard on clearing the land, chopping down a few small trees, but for various reasons they needed to make frequent trips back to the UK – not least due to Dad’s reluctance to get his old Volvo re-registered under a French plate which meant he had to get his insurance renewed every 90 days. It was slow progress….it seemed that they were over there for a few months chopping it all down, and then back in the UK for a few months and it would all grow back so they would start from scratch. They had not sold their house in the UK so did not yet have the funds to start the building work, but they did have outline plans and the water and electricity in situ ready to go. And they had also built a really lovely life over there with lots of new friends and seemed to be having a fantastic time.

Until disaster struck!! And as Dr Sods bloody infallible law would have it, on one of the trips home Dad went for the investigation of a long term persistent cough – and got the worst type of unimaginable news – he had Stage 4 Lung Cancer!! The treatment plan was to see how he responded to chemotherapy – with little hope of cure but at best to prolong his life. But the realistic prognosis was “without treatment 2 months – with treatment 12 months”.

Ann made the call to tell me that, and as usual she remained upbeat and positive but I could tell that she was really devastated. We visited them that weekend and all I can say is that from that point forward I witnessed my Dad die inside. He knew it was “Game Over” for him, and I think all he really focussed on was having some chemo so he could get back out there to get the house built so Ann would have somewhere lovely to live once he was gone. Realistically we all knew that this would not be likely.

So, his treatment in the UK commenced. Their Frinton house was sold to release the capital to buy a mobile home in Margate so Ann would have somewhere close by to James, Nicola, and Henry (their son, daughter in law and grandchild).

Then in April 2013 double whammy hit us hard straight in the balls!! Ann went for a long overdue check-up for some “woman’s health issues” and came away with the devastating news that she had Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer. I don’t think any of us could believe this!! Life is just so cruel.

Ann’s illness was very short lived, she didn’t respond well to chemotherapy and her treatment was palliative pretty much straight away. Dad died even more inside but you could tell he was holding on to hope that she would get better, and in some sort of denial in that he didn’t want to see her in hospital.

Nothing will ever imprint on my heart as much as the conversation I had with my Dad when I needed to persuade him to go and see her in the hospital that day as if he didn’t he wouldn’t see her again. As it finally sunk in, I saw the life literally drain out of him.

Ann died a few days later.

Dad gave his last breath on this earth, two months later – in August 2013

Their dreams for “this little piece of land” gone forever

Fast Forward to July 2017

None of us had been able to face visiting the land after they died. It all seemed too sad. It also seemed a bit worrying that nothing had been done about disposing of the land and we thought maybe there could be some bills to pay, maybe fines for not sorting things out.

Time passed and then in the spring of 2017 Martin and I made some plans to take Marsha the motorhome to the Alps, then on to the Pyrenees for our summer trip. We looked at the return route and it seemed conceivable that we could hang by Villefranche du Perigord and check out how things were. James was happy for us to do this.

So, after a fantastic few weeks in Chamonix then Northern Spain we headed back up. As we got closer to Villefranche du Perigord I started to feel more and more sentimental, thinking more and more about Dad and Ann, and their plans, and what a shame it was that they had never realised those dreams. The final leg of the journey was familiar and brought back loads of memories. When we pulled up at the car park by the lake it all came back to me, and strangely it really felt like I was coming home. This place that I had only been to a handful of times really felt special to me. We had arrived quite late in the day and were hungry so spent the evening walking the dogs, preparing and eating dinner and simply gazing up at the trees in what we thought was the right direction of where the land was.

In the morning we were up bright and early, keen to walk up to see if our memory would serve us well enough to find our way up the tracks to the land. The road seemed familiar but having never walked up it (Ann had driven us on the few times we visited) we were not sure. We had spoken to Bernard the previous day and he said to go up to a hair pin and turn left. The first left seemed to be not sharp enough and too close to the village to be the right track, so we went much further up the road, it all felt familiar, but not quite right. Then we spotted a half-finished house and for a horrible moment I thought that someone else had simply taken over the land. My heart sank and I felt suddenly very possessive of what had been before simply a recce to check things out – now it was a real mission to find it.

We went back down the track, and frustrated thought we had got the completely wrong place, but then decided to go up to the first left hand turn. Wandering up the track we commented on how it felt familiar, but still not sure. Reaching the end of the track and coming across overgrown woodland we thought we had simply reached a dead end. But slowly the realisation dawned – this could be the plot of land – albeit heavily over grown. It was the most overwhelming feeling – our hearts sank – this was a complete jungle – and we were not even sure we were in the right place. Standing, scanning the brambles in front of us, not quite sure what to do, I suddenly spotted a little bit of red through the trees, and on closer inspection realised it was a Propertie Privee sign. Memories flooded back and I remembered seeing photos of my dad standing next to this sign – nailed in to the huge oak tree. It was so emotional, suddenly realising that here we were – stood on the far edge of Dad and Ann’s beloved plot of land, feeling the echoes of their dream, but so, so sad that this little piece of land had not been loved and cherished for over 3 years and had been left for nature to take it back.

I can’t speak for Martin but I know that I made the decision in my heart there and then in that moment that I would do whatever it takes to get this little piece of land back to its former glory. Although my head was telling me otherwise at the time.

So, at that point in time we weren’t sure exactly what to do, or how to do it, but we knew we couldn’t just do nothing anymore. Speaking to James later that day he gave us his blessing and agreement to find out what needed to be done to get the land ownership sorted out so that something could be done to sort it out.

And that is the moment in time when “this little piece of land” ceased to be David and Ann’s tragically unrealised dream, and became Martin and Sharon’s new, different but equally magical dream of our own.