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Day to day House

The house that Jacques built

Buy and renovating a house in France

Vacant for more than 80 years

I had already been living in France for a couple of years and working seasonal jobs to earn my keep. After working in the Provence in the south, then the Loire, I became very fond of the Burgundy region. I had been working in the area for a while and became attached to many Burgundian charms.

The colourful landscape and varied climate, strong traditions and of course the wines.

So this is the story of how I purchased my first house in France, the problems of renovating and turning it into what became my family home.

Whilst I was driving around the countryside in a minibus and conducting a guided tour, for some unknown reason I decided to take a very small road across the hill which I did not know. I drove up a steep and windy road, sidelined by oak trees, then after a couple of miles we arrived in a very small village with a long name “Chaudenay la Ville”.

On the second house to the left, there was a sign hanging on a bit of string with the words “A Vendre” (For Sale). I really didn’t have much time to look as I was concentrating on the descent of the unknown road. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about that sign saying “for sale”.

A few more miles ahead, I regained known territory and found the way back to my final destination. My guided tour was finished and I could return to my temporary lodgings. Whilst I fell asleep, once again the For Sale sign was on my mind… and the desire to have a real home, my own first house… became a constant thought.

The next day

The next morning, I backtracked to the village with the unpronounceable name and one objective on my mind. Was this house really for sale?

Although I arrived in the village from the opposite direction as the day before, it wasn’t difficult to find the house, as there were only two streets. I parked in front of the old stone-built house and looked at what was a ruin.

My heart sunk.

However, I decided to look closer and decided to have a look around “my future home”. I could barely read the telephone number on the sign and wasn’t sure if the number was a 6 or 8, but I wrote it down. After a few photos and looking through the broken window panes, I decided to give the owner a call.

No lawn, just bramble

At the one and only crossroads in the village, there was a public telephone ( we still used coins in this epoch). Although I had been living in France for a couple of years my French was far from perfect. I dialled the first interpretation of the number on the weather-beaten sign. No answer, so I changed the 8 for a 6 and a male voice answered my call. I tried to explain that I was near the house that was for sale and was interested in knowing the price. Pen in hand I waited for the figures to be announced and tried to write them down. The roof was falling off and there was a large crack on the wall.

Understanding the lingo

One of my greatest problems in the early years of living in the country was with the understanding of spoken numbers, especially in the range of 80 to 99.  Then adding to my confusion was the local accent of the French gentleman and the uncertainty if the person was referring to the old French Francs or new Francs (remember this was before the Euro).

So basically I was unsure if the man selling the house wanted 8 thousand or 80 thousand Francs, the difference was huge. I asked if it was possible to visit the building, to which he replied that “now” was a good time as he was in the village. We agreed to meet within 30 minutes.

The tall elderly and a well-presented man greeted me, my English accent gave my origins away. He immediately excused the condition of the house and explained that it had been inherited from his father who had passed away a few years ago. The property was now owned by the four children and after being sold the money would be split between the children.

My heart sank as I was now sure the asking price would be 80 thousand Francs, a heritage worthwhile dividing into four parts. He had to confirm the price in plain numbers!

Numbers and Francs

The tiles are slabs of limestone and stones from a nearby quarry.

He took a pencil and paper from his pocket and wrote down the sum of 8000 Francs. My heart jumped!  This was the equivalent of £800.

After a guided tour of the buildings and a detailed explanation of the land limits, we parted with the agreement that I would call him in the next few days to say “yes” or “no”.

This was a chance of a lifetime to have my own home and pay cash! The only downside was the state of the building and my complete lack of building skills or experience. However, this was not going to allow me to let this chance slip away.

Without a single idea of the administrative procedures for buying a house in France, I sought advice from some of my French friends. They explained that it was a very simple process.

How to buy a house

If you want to buy,  the seller wants to sell and the price is agreed. Then both parties arrange a meeting at a “Notaire”. In the presence of the Notaire, both parties sign a legally binding contract with a promise to sell and buy which is called a “compromis de vente“.

The seller promises not to sell the house to another party and the buyer promises to buy. A 10% of the agreed selling price is deposited and if the buyer retracts from the purchase, the sum is given to the seller. The buyer then has an agreed maximum delay in time to find the necessary funds ( generally 4 months), and then the final act of sale is signed.

My friends also advised me to check with the “Mairie” (Town Hall) concerning the plot of land which I wanted to buy; this is called a “Cadastre” and is publicly available. The Cadastre is basically a huge plan of France, noting the names of the roads and who owns which bit of land, showing all the boundaries and plots of land marked out clearly.

With a friend called Kevin who had some experience in both buying a house in France and being a brick-layer, we revisited the house. His conclusion was “Incredible view, good luck with the renovation”.

I decided to buy my very first home. Now all I had to do, was rebuild it.

Before you read the rest of this story, I’ll quickly describe the house and village…

The house was once a “farm cottage”, with one room which was a kitchen and bedroom, the other “rooms” were stables for cattle, there was no water or electricity and had been vacant for 80 years. The left side of the house was a stable for cattle during the winter, whilst hay and straw were stored above.

The village was on a steep south-facing slope with 19 inhabitants,  before World War I the population was 90 people.
200 Charolais cows.
No school or shop.
A telephone cabin…
…and the last baby to be born in the village was in the 1960s

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