Life Begins at 40!

From the turmoil of youth, dreams can come true, out of chaos comes order!

I had always dreamed of ‘a little piece of land’ and being able to come out of my back door and see my horse in the garden, but never really expected it to become reality!

But, after having made a decision to start a completely new life together  after redundancy and failed marriages,  Peter and I decided to find our own piece of the Good Life in France.

We had originally sought  property to rent or buy in the UK, but how do you pay an exorbitant rent or mortgage, council tax, at least one of you holding down a well paid job, and spend every waking hour tending and improving the land and livestock?  France offered outright purchase and much lower outgoings, so, sink or swim we decided to go for it.

The prospect of upping sticks and leaving behind a comfortable, if costly, life in Bedfordshire, and moving into a caravan under rapidly approaching November skies, upon 2 acres of derelict buildings was daunting to say the least!  However, so convinced that we could build it into a home, live at least partially self sufficient,  and escape the traffic, the stress of a materialistic way of life and the 9 – 5 slog, it held no real fears!

The initial challenges were enormous,  when that dream tries to ‘test you’ to the limits, an initiation to become accepted by the spirit of the place?   Everything seems to be against you.  Then after the first year, it starts to work with you, ideas fall into place, opportunities seem to present themselves, you have passed the test and now you are ‘part of the place‘.

Our first plan was to renovate the better of 6 buildings  in which to live, we had water and electricity at least in that.  But of course, the first job was to waterproof and repair a stable for my beloved horse!  Then one needs a dry tack and feedstore, and without a clean and relatively tidy workshop, the Fordson Major, which had come, with everything else we owned, on the back of our old ford D truck, would never survive!

By Spring of 1999 we moved into the partly finished cottage, it was coming together at last. By April a flushing loo and a bathroom! Heaven!

Because of our circumstances we had no ‘pot of gold’ to start with, and when I say, we renovated the place, I mean we!  Peter knew what he was doing, but I had to learn the art of masonry, carpentry, septic tank construction, plumbing and engineering!  We worked together, unhindered by much of the legislation, that in UK sticks preservation, building or local bylaw orders at every turn.  Of course, you must obtain permission in France, this is the EU after all, but in our experience, commonsense usually wins the day!

We accepted the fact that Peter would have to return to work in the UK if the ‘pot’ ran dry, and so I was here alone for that first summer.  I filled my time  learning to make bread, jam, chutney….friends joked that I could start a french branch of the W.I!

That autumn we started renovate another building to let as a self catering cottage, or gite as they are known here.  It was completed this summer, and as an ’optional extra’ I offer Western riding  lessons to nervous or novice adults  while theyre here on holiday.

We now have three horses, including our recently acquired 14month old Breton colt (a french draught horse built like a tank already!), whom we hope to train to haul logs from the steepsided wood.  I breed Rouen and Cayouga ducks, and keep a few hens. Ducks are an absolute delight to keep, they are amusing, unassuming and perfectly happy with a bit of a  pond, (engineered by the resident JCB!) a comfy and predator proof night roost!

Our garden veg plot, last year, actually supplied a large proportion  of our needs.  We have an orchard of plums, peaches, nuts, apples and soft fruit, which is beginning to show appreciation for all the trimming, feeding and canker removal that I have been giving it.  There is abundance here in nature too,  wild flowers such as cowslips, wild orchids, adorn every verge.  Buzzards, kites, and all sorts of songbird visit us daily.  Nature is still welcome here it seems.  Family and  friends who visit, describe it as reminiscent of the rural way of life in the ‘good old days’!

Everyone seems to have ‘time’ here.  We live amidst a rural farming community, we have kind french farming neighbours who introduced themselves and offer hospitality (usually resulting in a ’coffee and calvados…strong stuff!) The folk in our village don’t interfere, but if you need help, they’re ready.  Take for example, the first winter, our neighbour supplied hay and straw ALL winter, and refused repeated pleas to pay him.  Pierre exchanged an acre for free rent in return for your keeping an eye on his cattle in the next field (He also exchanges our apples for home made cider!)  Barter is alive and well!

Now, I know that real communities like this do still exist in UK, but you have to admit that theyre a dying breed.

Having said all that, We did make an effort to be friendly first, with only ‘schoolgirl french’ for my part, and only sign language and ‘telepathy’ on Peters side, we smiled a lot, said bonjour to absolutely everyone, proffered coffee and took the ‘time of day’ to shake hands and make an effort to communicate!   The postman is a particularly good person to become acquainted with!  He knows or is related to everyone so you never ignore or upset him!

I am glad we ‘grasped the nettle’,  whatever catastrophy befalls you, keep your dream firmly in your sights and you can overcome the odds!