In the Beginning.

The ironic thing, of course, is that it was her idea and dream. I was not particularly gung ho on buying an old house in France. But we were literally bleeding away all the money we made from restoring and selling a house in DC, and if this locked it up, at least that kept it from going into a new domain couch every year and super expensive toys. But there we were, one day, landing in Bordeaux and driving east. We met several immobiliers along the way, shopping houses in Tarn, Garonne, Aquitaine. None of them really worked for us, but at least the price was encouraging. Houses in parts of France not called Provence or Paris are actually reasonable, if you're willing to put the work in yourself. We originally perused several sites online to find immobiliers, pricing and an general plan of attack. Eventually, in the Aveyron, we struck paydirt.

It should be noted that this house was not listed on any website, and the only reason we found it was because we spent more than a day with our very sweet immobilier (realtor) Nick. He came to understand what we wanted (rustic, something that would reward 'sweat equity' (in other words, not what the average Frenchman wanted in a French home). He took us to see a few that just might do the trick.

Like all houses under 50,000 Euros, it needed work on the inside, and lots of it. But it had charm and as an American, the most solid walls I had ever seen in the home. Being inside the bastide (a city wall made essentially of houses) and supposedly from the late 18th century just made it even more of a steal. But we didn't jump right away, French realty does not work like the American market used to. Houses can and will sit for months, even years. So we felt no pressure to buy without having it thoroughly inspected.

We paid an English engineer 1,800 euro to inspect it, which he did and pronounced it sound (with a few nagging issues to be discussed later). After that, it was pretty simple. I wired the money through Customhouse.com to the immobilier, we paid the yearly taxes (based on the square yardage of the place and very affordable, in our case 190 euros a year) my ex-wife (not ex back then) went to sign the papers and we took possession of two skeleton keys and one old house. Now all we had to do a little light work (demolition of soft partitions, cleaning of attic, new electrics, new plumbing, rebuild the attic, new windows, staircase reconficuration, repointing of brick, replastering and new bathrooms). And from that moment on, my ex started to lose interest in the house at a rate that would terrify bankers. What had started out as her idea, then morphed into our house in France, had finally turned into my 10-year project. Along the way, plans were shed, timetables missed, and eventually a marriage ended (luckily not because of the house). I was going to go it alone. How hard could it be?

-L'homme du maison