And We're Off!.... #12
The Unadventurous Traveller
The Big Day
The day we finally arrived when we were due to leave France, sign over ownership of the house, and kiss goodbye to the lives we had known in France. In the weeks preceding this day, we had sold as many items of furniture as we could. We had held our own vide granier, previously mentioned, and had been selling items online. We had been round visiting all of our friends and neighbours to say goodbye to them and exchange addresses and phone numbers to be able to keep in touch for the future. Leaving was going to be harder than I thought. Whilst I am a reluctant traveller (unadventurous, you might say), I knew this was the right thing for us, and it was inevitable once we had started the ball rolling with the house sale or purchase. In France, once you sign the compromise/act de vente, there is no going back (unless you want to be dragged through the courts and/or fined).
So why was I feeling so sad at saying our farewells? The kids were sad to say goodbye, but this was mixed with excitement at what was to come, and nerves about moving, starting new schools and making new friends, and facing our new lives together. Naturally, we lay down roots wherever we are. I am a sociable person, I love to meet people, hear their news, learn about their lives and try to find things in common, or just explore our differences. It really doesn't matter to me where we are, France, UK or Spain, I love to speak with people and make friends. In truth, what I really love is to ‘fit in’, to feel part of a community, needed and useful. When we leave one community, country or ‘life’ behind to move on to the next, I dread the move as we have so much hassle and effort to put into packing everything up and rearranging things at the other end. But the challenge is having to start afresh to make new friends and acquaintances and once again begin the slow process of being the ‘new’ people in the community, in the school, in the street.
So we gathered the few possessions we had left, some antique French beds and armoires that really were too beautiful to let go, and they flat-packed so were easy to bring with us, as well as clothes and toys, and got ready to pack them into the van. Dale had researched the differing possibilities of house removal costs, which can be extremely pricey, particularly if you are considering moving across borders. So we started to make enquiries about hiring a large Luton van, as there are guys who specialise in moving things from France to UK to Spain and back again.
It is important to note here that post-Brexit a lot of these companies are finding it very hard to get to grips with the changing legislation and many have stopped trading. I am sure that some companies will find a way eventually to navigate a clear path through the turmoil that now exists in this area, but so many are faced with huge import duties on peoples’ possessions, or finding it impossible to trade, full stop.
We could have hired an enormous, great big removals lorry of course, as so many people do, but this is us - we are always looking for a cheaper, or let’s say, the most reasonable way to do things. So Luton van it was. They told us it had a capacity of 21m3, so we worked out quite precisely what we had and what we could bring with us.
Back to the big day of moving
We had arranged for the large, long wheelbase Luton type van to arrive to collect our belongings a few days before the signing. We had worked this out quite specifically, to include mattresses and the flat-packed French antique furniture, bikes and Dale’s aluminium scaffold tower (both awkwardly shaped so needed to go in the lorry) but also all the boxes of clothes, toys, books etc etc.
When the van actually arrived that day, it was substantially smaller than we had been promised, being the standard 17m3 not the 21m3. Oh dear. The feeling of absolute dread that we were going to have to jettison some or lots of our belongings was awful. Whilst we may have calculated things to the last square metre, the van being 4 square metres less than we had bargained for, and paid for, was a substantial difference! I was livid but also felt sick - we were going to have to make on-the-spot decisions about what to ditch.
Jettisoning
So the big ‘chucking out’ began. We had to ditch several divan bases and a mattress. Dale tried to fit as many of his tools into the cab and back of his truck as he could, along with the triple, stackable ladder - but of course he couldn't take all of the tools, so many had to be jettisoned, along with gardening tools and items like wheelbarrows, the hose on a reel, the washing line, the trusty Dyson and so many pots, urns and beautiful things we had bought or found in and around the place. Dale had several photographic backgrounds on a roll, one being 3m wide, that we just had to leave!
Losing the garden pots and suchlike had already happened to us once before, when we left England, but at least then I had managed to give the nice things to Mum, even the garden ornaments that we had acquired over the years - a nice garden fawn and stone rabbit, along with a garden bench I was given one birthday. These things always carry some kind of sentimental memories. Whilst I know this is silly and you really shouldn't mourn such physical possessions in this world, they do mark a certain era in life, life’s milestones and memories. Like my Grandfather’s birdbath left back in the UK, I still remember it fondly.
Even after shuffling the van contents around like a huge game of Tetris, there were several large boxes that we just could not fit into the van. I brought them with me to the gite to store, thinking that maybe we could store them with our friends who still lived in the area and perhaps we could collect them at a future date. On the boxes were written ‘Xmas decs’, so we had a few months before we would need them.
Once the lorry was as packed as it could be, the guys were a little worried about the weight as it was rather stuffed full! However, it set off with the two guys who were navigating and driving, for the slow amble down to Spain. Dale and Dalton left just after, in the truck loaded to the hilt with ladders, boxes and tools, but also garden seating that was able to be flat-packed, and all the things Dale felt would be essential in the future work to come on the chapel. Dale and Dalton were due to drive down to the rented house, meet the estate agent to take the keys and to unload all the boxes and furniture from the lorry when that arrived sometime later.
Detour
Dale had been searching online for many months for a bell which would look appropriate on the chapel, as at present this was missing. He had looked in the UK, France, and online anywhere he could to find a suitable bell within in our price range and in a travellable location, for our soon-to-be new chapel belltower. He finally found someone selling one on a sale page in France, started discussing the bell - its size, price etc. The measurements the man was advertising looked just about right, so Dale worked out that they would be able to have a look and buy this bell on the way down to Spain, if they took a detour via Lourdes, through San Juan de Toran to reach Spain.
He finally arrived at the guy's house, ready to look at the bell, as arranged. The seller started by saying that he had had a lot of interest in the bell, someone else wanted to buy it and had offered more money for it… Dale could clearly see where this conversation was going. Anyway, he still wanted to look at it as they had travelled a long way to get there and he had cash in his hand. There was the bell, a lot smaller than advertised. It would look just ridiculous hiding in the lofty bell tower of the chapel. So with pleasure, Dale told the man this was not as advertised and he was not interested. What a huge waste of time, additional mileage and extra diesel. The hunt for a new bell was still on.
Free as a Bird
I had booked some time off work, knowing that signing and travelling was going to be fairly arduous, so if there were any setbacks or additional time taken for anything I would not be in a huge rush because of work.
Brooke and I moved into the gite for a few days. This was quite a fun experience in itself as we had made this lovely little holiday home for other people to enjoy and had never tried it for ourselves. I had left the house as clean and as ‘new owner ready’ as I could and somehow didn't want to be living in there again as half our family had moved away already. So staying in the gite was handy and a bit of a holiday for a few days for Brooke and me.
We said goodbye to her friends, and the neighbours and farming friends we had made. I had informed both Dalton and Brooke’s schools that we were leaving to go to a new country as soon as we had received the offer, so they had both said their goodbyes to their school teachers and school friends as they broke up for summer. I had to be given a letter by the schools, essentially saying that I was taking them away from main governmental schooling due to moving country - effectively a letter to quit. I think if we had been moving to a different department in France, this letter would be needed to declare that your child was in school previously and could seamlessly enter the new school year. As school had by now already started for the new school year, we went back one last time to say goodbye to all of Brooke’s teachers and friends. It was very emotional! The teachers there had been so welcoming, accommodating and helpful in settling Dalton and Brooke into school life.
Dalton graduating from Primary school
The Signing
We arrived at the notaire’s office with my car packed full of all the last items we needed, tools that we couldn't fit in anywhere else, and of course Rabbit in his hutch. I had had to remember to take the water meter reading, the electricity reading, and to unplug the router for the internet and pack up for posting. This needed to be sent back to them today before we left France. Our local notaire was in the nearest town of Dun Le Palestel, so we drove there for 9 am and met the nuns in the waiting room. They were such pleasant and warm ladies that it made the process so much nicer to go through. The last time we had been to the notaire’s office we had had to sit through several hours of pouring over all the numerous pages of documents and surveys for the house and also for the gite. It had taken at least two and a half hours, signing and initialling each page and me trying to ‘keep up’ with the conversation in French too! It went on for what seemed like forever. So we certainly didn't want this to happen this time around. And I had poor old Raberto Rabbit in the car. I didn’t want him to overheat, so we needed to be a lot quicker this time.
We discussed things about the house, was everything ok? Who was the phone provider? I handed over the washing machine instructions which I had brought with me (I’m nothing if not practical)! I had gained the sign-off certificate for the building works from the Mairie’s office and was able to give them the original if they needed it. We had all the certifications to show that the gite was finished officially and we had paid the final taxes on all the building works (twice!).
And just like that it was all over. Our beautiful house and garden was now the property of the nuns, and they were going to make some wonderful ecclesiastical changes - no doubt. I spoke to them about the trouble I was having with the Orange internet box, as I needed to post it back to them, had it all ready in the pre-paid bag, but I had discovered that the post office in Dun le Palestel wasn’t open on a Monday - marvellous! Had they any suggestions? I was not due to stop at any other places in France, and could not really trail off en-route to try find the post office in other towns. I suppose I could post it from Spain, but how tricky….
The lovely nun who did most of the talking offered to post it for me the following day. I was pretty sure she was going to be honest and do this for me, otherwise I would face some sort of a fine and penalty for non returning of goods. I mean, if you can’t trust a nun who can you trust? So with many heartfelt thanks given, and an exchange of email addresses, we were off on our long trip down through France and on to our new lives in Spain.
Long Journey Begins
Raberto was quite comfortable in his hutch, although he didn't like it to start with and hid in his little green house in the corner, but after a while with the monotony of the engine noise and motion of the road, he soon chilled out. Brooke and I were quiet for the start of our journey, sad at saying goodbye to an area that had made us feel so happy and welcomed. And anxious about what was to come. I knew we had many hours ahead of us on the drive, and always mindful of not getting a migraine, ensuring we had plenty of water, snacks and lunch.
Reminiscing - The Lakes
We remembered the fun times we had had at the different lakes in the Creuse. As La Creuse is landlocked, there is no beach to visit on sunny days, but they make use of some fantastic lakes and rivers to splash in and cool off. In the UK we had always lived by the sea, so not being able to visit the beach was quite new, and quite strange for us living in France. We soon discovered many beautiful lakes near to us, like Lac Courtille in Gueret.
During the summer months the council would put on activities for the children on the water and on land, for around 4 euros each, it was fantastic! There were large inflatable things for the kids to play on on the water and wear themselves out, and smaller pedalo boats for the younger kids to play with. On land, there was a mini ‘road’ track for kids to use go-karts on, bouncy castle, trampolines, archery, a climbing wall and special climbing frame up high which needed a harness and a supervisor but super, thrilling fun for kids of a certain age (and height). You could also walk and cycle around the perimeter of the lake on purpose-built trails at any time of the year, ideal for cyclists and joggers, mothers with pushchairs and babies and more. This was testament to the beauty and variety of this lake.
Wolves
We had also enjoyed many visits to the Wolf Parc in Gueret. Dale loved taking photos of these beautiful animals, and at certain times of the week you could be lucky enough to watch their feeding time, which was brilliant. In summer, they looked just like large Alsatian dogs, but in the winter, with their thick, beautiful winter coats on, they looked spectacular! The adventure had been extended by the provision of other small animals like goats and pigs around the outside of the large pen, for visitors to look at and pet, and there were information points to visit with extra details and history about the wolves. I always thought it was a little sad for these animals to live in such close proximity to the wolves and to hear and smell their natural predators so close by. But that was outside of my control. The wolf park is a definite must if you do visit Gueret.
14th July Celebrations
We would miss the celebrations of le quatorze Juillet, or Bastille Day, when the French would have a national holiday and celebrate the storming of the Bastille and the revolution to overthrow the monarchy. In Naillat, our nearest village, they celebrate, as all of France do, in their own way with a two day celebration. They hold sit-down meals and entertainment for all ages in the village. We never attended the sit-down meal, as I felt my French was not ‘up to it’, and Dale always worried about whether he would like the food or not! (Believe it or not, Dale cannot eat garlic so this was quite a concern in France!)
Our village also held an annual tractor race, which was a lot of fun to watch! Actually the tractors were ride-on lawnmowers or Tractor Tondeuse, adapted for racing around a large field. There would be commentary and many laps of the field to race around, set out with hay bales and a route to follow up hill and down. Then they added water for a mud slip area, with hilarious consequences. It was immense fun and as it was farming territory, this was most apt for the community!
Fun Fairs
Later on 14th July they would then have open-air funfair rides for the children, an outdoor disco in the evening and fireworks to round off the night. We often compared this evening to the fireworks evenings that we had attended so many times in the UK. Bonfire night, in Battle, East Sussex where we came from originally, was a huge deal, taken very seriously by the Battle Bonfire Boyes, so we always compared the two firework displays. But in France it was a national celebration and the whole village turned out for it. With barbeque food available, and the kids loving the funfair rides and winning things on the ‘hook a duck’ stall, it was such a good evening.
Soon reunited
After a while of travelling the long journey to Spain, we soon cheered up about the adventure that was facing us, turned the music up (not so loud as to blast poor Raberto Rabbit’s ears) loud enough to have a mini disco and sing along in the car. With satnav and Brooke’s assistance we traversed our way southerly through France to the border. It was becoming night time as we arrived in Catalonia and we were starving! We couldn't wait to meet back up with Dale and Dalton, see our new house and stretch our legs.
Back in Spain
By the time Dale and Dalton arrived in the village it was dark and late. As soon as they arrived at Lleida they rang the estate agent guy to tell him they were an hour away or so which would make their rendezvous around 11.30pm. All went fine on arrival at the rented house, keys exchanged, but due to the time of night and after driving all day, and having loaded the lorry first thing that morning, Dale just reversed the loaded truck straight into the garage to store and get to sleep if they could. It was so hot! The temperature had been creeping up and up as they drove further south, but in the town house, in our village it was hot!! So hot they had to stick their heads in the freezer to cool off.
It is so hot in Spain!
The lorry arrived mid morning, the following day, so Dale and Dalton met the guys and began to unload the lorry. The street where our new rented house is situated is only one vehicle wide, so this held up traffic for a while, but hey, it was a one off.
So this would be home for a while - a year, we hoped (how wrong could we be?). The lounge had a two-seater settee that was very uncomfortable and a set of table and chairs, so at least we could all sit down, plus there was a TV, microwave etc etc Everything we would need to live. It would be fine for a year or so….
Brooke and I arrived a day or so later and unloaded all of our belongings out of the car, Rabbit and all. I started to make good with all the unsorted things that Dale and Dalton had not yet had time to put away. We exchanged the house’s microwave for our own, along with cutlery and plates etc. We just didn’t fancy eating off other peoples’ crockery and cutlery. The same with the TV. We advised the owners that we would use our own so they could take theirs back if they wanted. Not being used to renting, as we have always owned our house, we really wanted our own things around us. We would get used to the whole renting business in time.
As the weeks passed, and thinking that we would be in the chapel shortly, we ordered a new three-piece suite for the new house, so we could have it here in good time. In hindsight this was such a stupid thing to do, as we were nowhere near ready to move into the chapel, and almost three years on we are still not living in the chapel! But we were so sick of sitting on the very small, very uncomfortable, two-seater settee that came with the house, that only some of us could sit on! So we ordered a new settee, one that would look perfect in the chapel. It would be large enough to fill all the space that we would have. Little did we know that the rug would literally be pulled from under our feet. So when the new settee arrived by lorry, we could not actually get it up the stairs. Of course it would fit the chapel well, but this rented house was a lot smaller! So we took each half of the larger settee and managed to squeeze that up the stairs - just! The other smaller settee would have to stay downstairs in the garage, along with the uncomfortable blue two seater that came with the house. At last - a bit of comfort.
Box reunion
Many months later, I discovered on opening several boxes and not finding any of the things I was expecting that the box, that the box titled ‘Toys’ actually contained Christmas decorations and the faux Christmas tree. So the boxes that were being stored at our friend's house in France were in fact full of toys! Gulp. They were going to be missed eventually and I would need to pull out all the stops to get them back! This had happened because I had re-used boxes from our first move to France (that I still had stored safely) and somehow I had not scribbled out the writing on them from the first use. Marvellous. I needed to get those boxes back from our friends’ house in La Creuse as soon as possible. They wanted them gone pretty quickly too as they had received an offer on their house which they had accepted, so they were planning their move back to the UK. We were not due back to France any time soon either. What to do?
Good old Facebook
I placed an advert/request post on several for sale pages and one page about moving within La Creuse, asking if anyone might be travelling from Creuse down to Spain shortly and would they mind bringing some boxes with them if they had room?
I received only one reply to my post, from a nice man who was a little cagey in responding to me but thought my message had seemed genuine enough. After some back and forth messaging, he told me he would be travelling through to Spain in his motorhome shortly, from the Creuse area. He could pick up the boxes in a convenient place and we could meet nearby at some date in the future. This all sounded very dodgy, but I had no way of getting back to that area of France any time soon, and Christmas was coming! He did ask me what was in the boxes and with joy I was able to say that it was in fact not Christmas decorations as I had thought originally, but kids’ toys, and possibly some decorations but the toys were much loved. He could certainly search the boxes himself if he wanted to to put his curiosity to rest, but I really felt this man could be trusted. Maybe it was the fact that he was worried about what I might have tucked in the boxes, and this made me feel better that he was as worried about this potential smuggling situation as I was!
Rendezvous and box exchange
Our lovely friends Yvonne and Steve, who had looked after these boxes for us since we had left, and to be honest had been such knowledgeable, helpful and really good friends to us throughout our time in France, agreed to meet this stranger in Limoges one day to hand the boxes over to him.
A few weeks later, I received a message from the man, informing me that they had indeed exchanged boxes with our friends and we had a nice chat. He and his wife were en-route to our area and could we meet with them in an ideal place? We looked at maps and agreed a rendezvous at a garage on the main road about 40 minutes away. The whole thing was just lovely, he had two quite big boxes of toys and ‘stuff’ of ours that the kids were beginning to miss and he could see we were just an ordinary family (I hope!). They were going on their holidays heading further south. He and his wife had been civil servants all their lives, he wasn’t sure why he had responded to my plea, which he wouldn't normally have done, but I was so pleased that he did! Kind, lovely, helpful people do exist in this world if you ask nicely and perhaps pay a little for their inconvenience.
‘Jammy Beggar’
Yvonne and Steve always laugh about Dale and say he’s a ‘Jammy so and so’ (Translation for anyone who does not understand this, jammy could mean lucky) as they think he always lands on his feet. We laugh at this as we don’t feel this way at all about our lives!
We work really hard, stick our necks out sometimes to do things that perhaps others do not, attempt projects that most would not, but always try our hardest. We always try to be honest, true and endeavour to undertake all our activities, be it work or pleasure, with humour!
I think these are our values to live by.
Going Forwards
The blog will continue on, to talk about our lives as we are currently living them, here in Catalonia, Spain. However there will be more remarking on or noting the differences we have found here, between France and the UK.
The major point to take away from this is anyone can undertake a huge project, not necessarily of this kind, but of your own kind - if you ensure to research all the avenues available to you as thoroughly as possible and if you have the desire to do it. Check out all the necessary factors involved at every stage you can think of, and then some! Our children have always been enrolled into mainstream schooling, but this does not always need to be the case as homeschooling is sometimes an option. There are regulations in place which differ per country, so again deep research and knowledge is the key. We have always felt that school, mixing with your peers, deep immersion into friendships, language and life is the absolute best way to do ‘this’ in whichever country you find yourself moving to.
If you have any comments, feedback or questions, do not hesitate to contact me/us - we always love to hear your views.
And remember, the best is yet to come!
You can catch up on some of the previous blogs here:
#6 Finding Friends and Hidden Treasure
#5 Manoir Makeover - more doing it up - Part 2
#4 Signing and Doing it up - Part 1
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