Our little Easter break skiing in the Alps was over. We had enjoyed the snow and now we were ready for the sunshine. The winter seemed to have dragged on forever. Signing the contract on the new house was scheduled for the Thursday after Easter. We were still up in the middle of France at Vikki's parents place. The French house had been ready and waiting since Christmas down South near Toulouse. The couple who were selling had moved out in anticipation of a Christmas sale which never materialised. They were understandably annoyed at the lengthy wait and the fact that they had unnecessarily vacated their home and had to live somewhere else with all their own stuff in storage.
The French house had been empty for months and yet in the paper pushing process it already had insurance and an internet package which seemed to have been delivered to someone else.
How do you give feedback to a French Property Insurance company that calls and asks how everything is going? How do you answer questions about the insurance for the house. You don't own the house yet, you are technically homeless and don't know if the house in question is even still standing! No-one is there to check whether the insurance needs to be applied to winter rain damage. How do you say ... 'call back in a week and I will let you know if I even own the house ' in French?
In the couple of days we had before driving down to sign the contract there were still issues to be resolved like what to do about the Audi's oil light? Which French garage do we take it to to get it fixed? A local one in this area or do we get the car towed down to the new house? Who is going to make the phone call and struggle through the French language trying to describe the problem. How do you say oil light in French? How do you explain that the oil has been checked and is not empty but the oil light is still on!
Added to this there was still also a niggling doubt about the payment for the house. Hundreds of thousands of pounds hanging out in cyberspace waiting to be transferred from a British bank account to a French one. Would this International money transfer company prove to be trustworthy? Who were they? Would the money show up or magically disappear?
And the issue of the missing internet package also had to be followed up and resolved. Someone needed to call the French supplier and find out where the internet package has actually been delivered to? This would require another conversation in broken French. How do you explain that the house you are moving in to appears to not have received the internet but a neighbour might have it? How do you explain in French that you are not at the house yet and you are not in England, you are homeless. No it is not possible to go and check the mail box or talk to the neighbour!
The reality of speaking in French and the mammoth mountain of language barriers was beginning to make itself felt.
Leaving Alexander behind to make a few more phone calls in broken French, Vikki and I headed off to the local boulangerie to stock up with croissants and bread. You can always trust a French bakery to cheer you up when all else is falling to pieces around you.
Vikki entered the boulangerie and answered the polite girl behind the counter's question of ... "Ca va bien?" with "Bon, merci et vous?" But then when she received an answer it was all too much. None of what was uttered made any sense. Ignoring the answer and breaking the torrent of words mid flow Vikki confidently set off demanding in her best French 40 croissants and 1 bread. The young girl serving us looked confused and called out her supervisor from the warm yeasty depths of the kitchen. Seeing her bemused face I realised that something must have been said wrong. Did Vikki ask for 'quatre' or 'quarante' croissants? We did what all English speakers do ... slowed down, spoke louder and counted with out fingers... 4 croissants. 4 not 40 !! The girl looked relieved and popped our croissants into a paper bag. Now for the bread, she reeled off a list of complicated bread titles... we both looked confused and pointed at an innocent loaf. 'That one please.'
So far so good. We had survived the boulangerie incident unscathed. No wonder the French observe our attempts at speaking in French with polite condescension. The language was going to be an uphill battle, but not one that couldn't be conquered. I recently read this little article by an American now living in Provence ( to read the whole article click on the photo below) and it encouraged me that there would be some light at the end of the tunnel.
Back at Vikki's parents house, which we now viewed as operation base for THE BIG MOVE, a final bill came through from the Notaire who was going to be there overseeing the signing on Thursday. The paperwork wouldn't go through unless this final bill was already paid. But transferring money from England to France takes a few days, it isn't instant. Why did no-one send this bill earlier? This will take at least 2 days. There are exchange rates to be considered and everything needs to be double checked.
My poor brother was suddenly overwhelmed with making multiple phone calls in French. He transferred money for the Notaire's fee and then followed it up with more phone calls to a few French garages who either didn't speak English or didn't know how to help. The car problem was beginning to overwhelm everyone and a decision was made to leave it at Vikki's parents place for a few weeks until everything else had been dealt with.
The count down was on for the Thursday signing. All we needed was the Notaire's fee to transfer and confirmation that the money for the house was not lost in transit.
We were reduced to using one car to get ourselves down to the new house. We needed to decide would could be left behind to be collected later. We had to evaluate how to fit 3 adults, 2 dogs and 2 children and everything that was needed to move into a new home into the remaining car. Vikki's list of essentials included a kettle, tea bags and a couple of mugs, her celebration bottle of English Sparkling wine/Champagne and special celebration glass, a vacuum cleaner, a mop, Christmas presents that had been saved for the new house, Easter eggs that had been saved for the new house, our clothes and a cool box with milk, butter, cheese and bacon. Oh, not forgetting one pair of football goal posts so the boys could get outside and play while we unpacked the house.
Alexander attempted another phone call in French and managed to get another internet package set up but then panicked because he now seemed to be paying for 2 !
We planned to leave at 6 am on Thursday so that we could drive down South and be in the town where the Notaires office was by 10.00 am. The signing wasn't until 11.00am but we were wisely leaving time for ourselves. We would sit at a cafe and watch the world go by if we had any extra time. Later on in the day we would meet the removals truck at the house and help place boxes in rooms. The washing machine would finally get unloaded after it was hurriedly packed into the removals truck in England full of bedlinen laden in vomit. It was going to smell delicious! (I forgot to mention, Oliver got very sick just before leaving England and threw up everywhere the night before the removals truck arrived. There was no time to wash everything and dry it on removals day.)
Meanwhile Alexander was fielding anxious phonecalls and emails from the French estate agent. Where was the Notaire's fee? Had it left England? Where was it abiding at this very instant in time? Who had the money? The Notaire was waiting!
A phonecall was made to England. It had been released, it should be there. Call the Notaire and ask if it has arrived. It should be there. Another awkward phonecall in broken French. Do you have the fee? Has it arrived?
Back and forth, emails and phone calls and lots of anxiety. Meanwhile I helped clean and pack the car. We found that the tomatoes bought for the cool box had turned into little solid blocks of ice in the fridge. There was just about enough room in the car for all the boxes and bags and football posts. But we had forgotten that we needed to leave room for 2 dogs and 3 adults and 2 children!! There would be bags and boxes on the floor and piled up to the car ceiling. Each passenger would need to travel with stuff on their laps and under their feet. The cool box was a pain, we could do without the amount of space it took up in the boot but we felt we really needed it.
Then we decided that it would be courteous to buy the sellers a bottle of bubbly to say thank-you for putting up with the long delay from the British end of things. We needed to give a token of appreciation and acknowledge the fact that they had vacated their home for Christmas and lived out of boxes for 4 months up until Easter when they could have happily stayed in their old home.
Back into town to visit a supermarche to buy some Champagne. Vikki and I found a nice pink bottle. What do we know about Champagne?! We trust that anything in a French supermarket must be good. We couldn't find any nice cards. It seems that the French are not very good at selling cards. I found one that said "Pour toi" For you in the familiar form not the formal 'Vous.' Was that alright? Were we sending a card that was too casual and too friendly? Who cares... we decided that in the grand scheme of things the card would have to suffice, we struggled to find ribbon or a decorative bow to add to the bottle and finally settled for a pretty bag to pop the card & pink bubbly in. We forgot that this was going to be another little package that we needed to find room for in the now completely jam packed full car. But we did remember to fill up with petrol so that was one less thing to worry about.
On Wednesday night we were all set to go. Everything was packed except our cool box items and clothes. We went to bed relatively early. Final phone calls and emails confirmed that all the money was in place and every fee had been paid. The Audi was left empty and lonely in the yard to be dealt with at a later date. Ski equipment had been left behind. All we had to do was show up for the signing, hand over the thank-you present and move in. What could possibly go wrong?
To be continued ...
( I promise I will finish this epic saga in next weeks final post. Just a few more trials to overcome!)