I moved

My long silence wasn’t indicating that nothing happened. On the contrary. I just have really bad internet connection and data issues so chose to focus on other equally important things. I’m currently sitting on the other side of the property posting this. That just about gives me one little bar of 4G (luxury!)

I moved my caravan about 1 1/2 weeks ago. From underneath the laurel trees into a more open space next to the house with lake view. Of course, I had to clear the path first so I can get through with the car, so the whole move was a major project. Also, there’s not enough space to turn the car around with the trailer attached so it turned out to be a quite the undertaking. I’m glad I was alone, I think I would have given up if someone would have said something like “Hmm, I don’t think it’s possible”. But there was no one around to doubt so I went for it! Once I manoeuvred myself down the path into the open, it was too late. No way I could reverse back anyway. 

I had to detach the trailer twice from the car, adjust the position of the car, attach it again so I can pull it into another direction until I finally had it almost like I wanted it. It’s a lot of work reversing with a trailer when you’re on your own, I realised. There’s a lot of getting-out-of-the-car-and-check-trailer-positioning involved. I wish I had a fitbit, that would surely have registered a new daily record. 

Anyway, I don’t quite have the perfect lake view I hoped for but I felt sorry for the Volvo in the end so this is as good as it gets. For now. The internet connection is very poor in this area so when I want to upload big files, I have to take my laptop and little dongle and walk all the way down to the gate. Reminds me of the good old times when the internet was a novelty and mobile phones were still for yuppies only.  

It’s so much better sleeping here. Underneath the laurel trees I always felt like an intruder because there was so much animal activity in the night (owls, pine martens, coypu, etc.). Here, it’s just the occasional red squirrel, bats and a few birds. And I get to see the night sky from bed! And ooooh, it’s soooo beautiful! So many stars! On the first night I saw the biggest shooting star ever, it could have starred in a movie where aliens crashland on Earth, it was so big! 

And on night three or so, it rained for a little while and then the frogs started singing. How very exciting, Now I can’t wait for spring and nightly frog concerts! I think they’re quite musical, the French frogs …

Other than that, I got to meet with the vendor – well, the one that is still alive and waiting for the succession of the other half of the property. So the notaire found two cousins of the deceased who, in theory, would inherit half of his French properties. Even though he left a will which clearly states that she is to inherit all of his worldly belongings. Unfortunately, he put an address on his will and then moved somewhere else so the will doesn’t really count. It’s just ridiculous … but I was assured it won’t be another three months so I’m hoping that will be the case, especially since we’re running out of time. Literally. 

The commune of Cieux will change their urban regulations (PLU = Plan Local d’Urbanisme) in the beginning of next year. Which means our property, which is already in a protected zone (zone N) will go into another, even more protected zone (zone NP). That is of course great because it guarantees that our view over the countryside will never be disturbed by any new buildings, but it also means that making any changes to the ‘house’ will be impossible from next year. From next year on, I would not even be allowed to change the windows or paint the outside of the house. Nada. Nothing. 

A very unsettling week later, I think the situation is now more or less clear and we know how to move forward.  

We found a trustworthy and brilliant woman when we needed a survey for another property which we almost bought but then jumped ship thanks to her survey. This English lady, Helen, now helps us figure out what’s what and is drawing up the plans for planning application in the next few days. We went to the marie together last week and spoke to the maire. A very nice guy indeed but couldn’t help a lot. At the end of our meeting he recommended that I just look into buying another house because this is all so very complicated. He brought me to tears – which I obviously only let out when we got out of the building. Yes, that’s right – I know better than to show my deepest feelings to him! His comment upset me and made me realise how much in love I am with this piece of land. And that I’m willing to fight for my right to live here. 

It’s all bit funny really, the French building laws for zone N. 

We are not allowed to tear down the ‘house’ and start from scratch. Once the walls are gone, they are gone forever. But we may build around them, from the outside and inside and we may also add an extension. 

We also have to be connected to mains water, even though we have two wells and a water source on the property – otherwise they won’t even look at the application. 

No one is willing to even tell us how big the extension can be so we’re a bit stabbing in the dark at the moment. Helen is fabulous, she’s being quite pushy with the French bureaucrats and that’s exactly what’s needed otherwise we’d not get anywhere in a hurry.

So I had a lot of fun drawing up plans for the future house. Of course, I’ve already been thinking about this for many months but now suddenly I’m asked to make final decisions and put it all down on paper. Good thing I had a little practice run while I was in quarantine in Germany!

I think my proposal for Helen turned out quite good even though I really suck at drawing. I just can’t put anything three dimensional down on paper. So I spare you the drawings. They’re terrible, you’re not missing out. Here’s a photo of the foot print, if you’re interested:

In a nutshell, it’s a vision of a tiny house with open space living and in the new extension a second floor with a mezzanine office area and a bed room with views to the lake and a roof window for star gazing. 

There will be lots of indirect light from north and east and big windows to the south and west and a veranda  to the south that is open in the summer and closed in the winter so it can act as a heat buffer. My ultimate dream would be a Kachelofen with sitting area in between kitchen and living room area. A Kachelofen, a tiled wood burner, stores the heat in the walls and tiles and still gives off warmth when the fire is out.  And well yes – it has to be a wood burner, because we have a woodland and therefore plenty of wood. It’d be a crying shame to use any other heating source (though I’m already toying with the idea of geothermal heating for the lower part. There’s just not enough suitable green area for the whole house, I think).

The whole design will be topped off by a green roof, of course. I’m pretty confident that Helen’s professional drawings will look awesome and that the planners will be happy to see such a masterpiece of house design and will hopefully give us planning permission within a month. Wouldn’t that be great! :-) 

In the meantime, I decided to get the existing house liveable and winter-ready. Because I do want to spend at least half of the winter here – there’s lots to do, trees to cut and prune and brambles to deal with. The caravan doesn’t have any heating. The walls of the caravan and the house are basically the same but the house has a wood burner. So it would make a lot of sense to live in the house.

I just wish I had a second pair of hands so I can move heavy things like the two gas ovens and the big cupboard. Not much I can do in the kitchen with those big pieces still in. 

Will I ever go back to my real home in the UK again?? 

Of course I miss Barrie and the cats like crazy. And my friends. I do want to go home – and if only for a couple of weeks. But that very much depends on the letter with the first electricity bill in my name. Because once I finally got this important piece of paper, I can go to the prefecture and register here. Which means I can go back to England but also come back to France because then I have a compelling reason to re-enter.

With this important piece of paper I will also be able to get to the déchèterie (recycling center) and get rid of the crap I keep finding all over the land. It’s unbelievable what was carelessly left behind – giant awnings, broken plastic and rusty camping chairs, pillows, carpets, gas lamps, plates and mugs, beer cans and a gazillion of plastic cider barrels in addition to your everyday plastic shit, of course.  Everything is hiding underneath knee-high grass and brambles. The petrol strimmer absolutely hates it all and so do I. 

The vendor said they bought the property from an eccentric couple about two years ago but then never really came here because of health issues. So all the crap is from the previous owners who lived here permanently for 14 years. Apparently, they also left four (!) cars behind and even more stuff, which was already cleared. That’s one great way to de-clutter: just sell and leave it all behind. Easy peezy. (Don’t worry Barrie, I’ll come back and get all my clutter!!).

Clutter photos anyone?