Grey

Been under a blanket of cloud for what seems like an eternity. Grey, dismal, rainy and surprisingly chilly for the time of year. Woodpile continues to shrink due to the kitchen stove being lit in the evenings to keep warm while cooking. Seems like this winter will never end. Might even have to ask Christian to deliver yet more logs if this weather doesn't improve in the next couple of weeks. Looking out the window there's no sign of wind, just a stubborn greyness that refuses to move on. Still, I suppose all this rain is good for the countryside. Certainly looks green and lush out there with tall grasses shooting up in the fields and trees bursting into leafy splendour.

Down in the valley the little river has turned into a raging torrent of brown water that crashes into bends, further eroding the muddy banks. Took Jock down there for a walk a couple of days back. Kept well clear of the river though, didn't want him washed out to sea, so he drank from puddles instead.

Yesterday we went walkies up the mushroom forest. Mentioned this forest in a posting a while back. All the trees have unfortunately been cut down, their trunks stacked and lorried off to one of the many woodyards round these parts. However, I was pleased to see that the discarded tree branches have now been stacked into long rows with hundreds of newly planted saplings lined up in the open spaces inbetween. The old stuff will eventually rot down and disappear as the little saplings grow into towering trees. In about thirty or forty years time they'll be cut down, and so the cycle continues. At least those little saplings appreciate all this rain. Gives 'em a good start in life.

Blooms

Had some rubbish weather recently. But on the bright side, it's saved me the chore of wobbling around the garden with a watering can. This morning dawned bright and sunny so I nipped outside and took a few snaps of some recent blooms. The little apple tree out front is in full blossom and one of the irises has burst into flower. They look rather rather impressive in the low morning sunlight. Clouded over a bit now. Might rain again later. Ah well, ç'est la vie.

The chateau cottage

As briefly mentioned in a previous posting, we put in a low offer on a little cottage just to the east of Tulle. We were then informed that someone had beaten us to it with a higher offer. Fiddlesticks! Rats! Houses like that (19th Century, stone, unmodernised, in a quiet location and very reasonably priced) don't turn up that often. And when they do, they usually don't hang around for long, despite the sluggish property market and France's current economic woes. Still, it appeared we were in with a very slight chance, but only if the other buyer had difficulty in raising the dosh. In our favour was the fact that we were cash buyers. But, we knew that the other agent would be working like mad to find another buyer if his current buyer dropped out. The odds seemed stacked against us. All we could do was to wait for confirmation either way the following Saturday.

On the Friday, a day early, our agent contacted us to say that the vendor had decided to give up with the other buyer and was happy to accept our offer if we still wanted to progress with the purchase.

Crikey! Now it was serious! Buying yet another property in France hadn't really been on our agenda. We'd sort of been thinking about selling 'the barn' and maybe buying a cheap shack in England, or maybe Wales. Or maybe selling our current house and chucking everything at 'the barn'. And now here we were facing the unplanned prospect of owning three properties in France. On the one hand it was madness, but on the other, it kinda made sense. Better to have our tiny bit of dosh invested in property rather than languishing in a lousy British bank where it earned pathetically little interest. Furthermore, we could sell 'the barn', do up this new property (I call it 'Chateau Cottage' because it's next to a chateau), then maybe sell our current house and live in luxury at the cottage. Or keep both and maybe live in the cottage in winter (it has proper heating and is in a slightly less chilly area) and rent it out in summer (touristy lakes and the popular Dordogne Gorges are nearby). Or, if all else fails, then maybe sell it for a profit.

So, what to do? Say yay or nay? Being bonkers, I was all for it. However, Georgie, being the sensible one, was reluctant to commit to what was essentially a totally unnecessary purchase. But, with the winds of change already blowing in her life (she's chucking in work and planning on coming out here for the summer and going freelance, armed to the teeth with new Apple computery stuff), she said "another fine mess you've got us into" thus confirming a green light to proceed.

Turned up at the notaire's office (the sale solicitor) in Tulle last Monday where I met the vendor and the selling agent, signed the agreement to purchase papers, handed over a deposit cheque and am now looking forward to the official purchase meeting sometime in June.

Next project is to sell 'the barn'. Could be complicated, but ç'est la vie. Never a dull moment.

(P.S. - I'm probably stating the obvious, but click on the photos to enlarge.)

The forest house

About four years ago I discovered a new dogwalk up in the high forest across the valley. The winter winds blow fiercely up there so the tall trees have to be strong to survive. And strong they are. Big too, especially the tall pines. It's a great place to walk when the evening sun sends shafts of light between the moss-covered tree trunks. And it's very peaceful, but not when it's raining or snowing, or when the winds are howling.

On my first trek up there I was quite surprised to discover a dilapidated old house and barn by a disused track in the middle of the woods. Intrigued about its history and whether it might be possible to buy the original front door which was still in quite good condition, I asked neighbour Christian if he knew the owner. He responded by saying that the local council were now the owners and that they had plans for renovating the wreck as a hostel for visiting walkers. I later discovered that the Creuse region had recently been granted government funding to boost tourism and attract nature lovers to explore its unspoilt countryside - the Creuse region is one of France's least densely populated regions with little industry apart from farming - hence the renovation plan.

Work began the following spring. The overgrown garden area was cleared and the barn re-roofed. However, nothing was being done to the house, which I thought a bit odd. That summer, as is customary in France, a big board was put up on the barn wall listing all the different companies that were involved in the renovations, such as electricians, plumbers, masons, etc. Then winter came and work stopped. Started again the following spring. However, still nothing was being done about the house. The following spring, I suppose last year, the barn had been almost finished and was presumably ready for its first visitors. Then, for some reason, I stopped going up there. I think it may have been because there was now more likelihood of meeting other dogs up there so Sprocket would have to be kept on his lead. Far less risk when walking up the Sprocket Hill area.

Anyways, now Sprock's gone, I thought it safe to venture up to the forest house for the first time in ages. Went up there yesterday evening with Jock. Big surprise..., the barn was finished but the dilapidated house had been demolished. All that remained was just a small pile of rubble. I wonder what happened to that front door...

Cherry blossom

Georgie's asked how the blossom's coming on. Told her the cherry tree seems to be blossoming quite well, but the apple tree's lagging a bit behind. Then she asked for some photos. Took a few snaps yesterday evening, then noticed the cherry tree blossom had grown a bit overnight, so I took another snap this morning. Could be in full bloom in a few days.

Jardin

Following Georgie's recent trip out here when she spent hours in the garden digging, weeding and planting, she's asked for a few snaps of any plant thingys that may have survived the last couple of nights' frosts. Well, it all looks fine to moi and I don't reckon there's been any casualties. In fact, everything seems to be progressing rather well. Haven't checked the wild honeysuckle sapling that we nicked from the local woods and planted (er, Georgie planted) at the foot of the apple tree, but will do so when I do a spot of watering ce soir.

evening

morning

 

Bargain

The recent sale of the Honda dogwagon (see earlier 'Gits' posting) left me with just the Merc for nipping down the shops, driving Jock for dogwalks and general get-abouting. As this fine example of German engineering isn't really suitable as a runaround, and as I don't really want to rack up the miles in a relatively low-mileage classic car, a replacement for the Honda was called for. Gave myself a budget of around 2000 euros (£1750?) and began searching for a good, low mileage, runaround dogwagon on the 'Leboncoin' site (much more popular than Ebay in France for buying and selling everything from houses to budgie seed). Pretty soon it became apparent that my budget wouldn't buy much more than a knackered old rustbucket, so, almost inevitably, I raised the bar to 3000 euros. Then 4000. Then 5000. When I found myself looking at ten grand Porsche 944's I realised I'd completely lost the plot, so I returned to my 2000 limit.

Interestingly, small, economical runarounds are extremely popular in France now that the cost of petrol has doubled over the last five or six years. And small diesel cars are even more highly sought after because of their higher mpg (or should that be kpl?). Trouble is, because France is such a big place and people have to travel further to get to the shops or work, these small cars soon rack up high kilometrages. Consequently, a ten year old Renault Twingo in good nick, for example, with 120,000 kms on the clock, will set you back about three grand. Meanwhile, a lower kilometrage bigger car of the same year (perceived as a gas-guzzler - for example my Mercedes 190e) can be bought for half that price. Hence the popularity of the Twingo, Peugeot 109 and 107, Citroen C1, VW Polo and Fox, and all sorts of other boring little roller-skates.

Just as I was about to give up and grudgingly plump for a 3500 euro limit, I spotted a gem. A 1995 Citroen ZX 1.4i with just 39,000 kms (26,000 miles?) for just 1800 euros. I emailed the vendor immediately and arranged to view the following day. Drove 100 miles west to Rochechouart and discovered the car had been inherited by the vendor's elderly wife following the recent death of her father. As they already had three cars, they didn't need another so it was up for sale. Apparently her father hardly ever used the car, had owned it from new, and kept it mollycoddled in his garage. Hence its low mileage and excellent condition. Came as no surprise when the vendor said the phone had hardly stopped ringing since he placed the ad, but, as I was the first person to respond, it was mine if I wanted it. Immediately paid a deposit and said I'd pick it up in a few days once I'd arranged insurance.

The following Friday I caught the 6.50am (that's 5.50am in Angleterre - very dark at that ridiculous time of day) bus from Felletin to Limoges, then faced a four hour wait for a train to near Rochechouart. As I didn't want to leave Jock on his own at home for any longer than absolutely necessary, I asked a cabbie what he'd charge for the 25 mile journey. He estmated about 60 euros. Fine by me. Arrived at the vendor's at around 10am, earlier than expected. Paperwork done and dosh delivered, I set off for home feeling a little bit nervous about driving a car which last had its oil and filter change ten years ago, albeit 2000 kilometres ago. Luckily, the car ran fine and I arrived home by mid-afternoon where Jock was ecstatic to see me.

Have now had an oil and filter change, replacement of the courroie de distribution (timing belt) and had a towbar fitted. Am extremely chuffed with this latest bargain acquisition and am looking forward to adding to its ridiculously low kilometrage. Have dug out a few old tapes from a dusty box in the attic to play in the vintage (and probably unused) radio/cassette player that's in the car. Am now thinking that the Citroen has rendered the Merc an unnecessary indulgence so, perish the thought, I'm considering selling and just having one car. However, the Merc's limited value, excellent engineering and provision of relaxed, driving pleasure, may convince me to keep the thing. Or maybe not. Anyways, a couple of shots of the Citroen...