Our Move to France is Over!

I've suddenly realised that the summer is just about over, the kids are getting ready for La Rentrée, Bill is heading back to Liberia and ......

.....I haven't written this blog for more than 2 months.

I've been writing 'A Family Move to France' for nearly 2 years and I am more than happy to say we are now 'A Family Living in France'.

We have had moments of panic and uncertainty and of frustration and fatique but we have had even more moments of satisfaction, encouragement and fun and that great sense of achievement.



We set out to move our lives to France and I really feel we have achieved it.

Looking back, I kind of wrote this blog as a diary and also as a way of reassuring myself that things were progressing and that we were learning and discovering. And also that we were being supported by people who read this blog, friends we have made along the way and family and friends around the world.

Now our move is over, I think I can stop writing it. Either that or I need to change the title.

Actually we do have a new project on the horizon - Building a House in France.

We originally planned to self build when we first arrived here in Limoux but we ended up buying a house with a building plot instead. Well that building plot is begging us to put a small gîte or maison d'amis on it.

So.......keep your eyes peeled as the new blog is on its way.

A bientôt ~

Healthy in France

In my last post I mentioned that I was going into hospital to have an operation. Well I've had it and I've come out smiling!

Strangely enough the French health care system and bureaucracy is the thing that has frustrated us the most and yet my hospital experience and after care have been superb.

Whizzing back to February...... I took a tumble whilst skiing in the Pyrenees.

Some say it was due to the fact that it was snowing heavily and I failed to wear proper goggles and failed to stop at the big wall of snow that loomed in front of me.

I'd say it was because the breaks on the skis didn't work properly.

Anyway it ended up with a visit to the accident doctor, the x-ray department, the MRI scanning department, the pharmacy, the physio and then the knee specialist.

All of this was done in the space of a few weeks with no waiting and in spite of me not having my 'Carte Vitale' - the magic green card which says you belong here in France and are entitled to health care.

All the health professionals have been hyper helpful and hyper efficient. The only negative thing is the hyper amount of medicines the French doctors like to prescribe. They even prescribe paracetamol and plasters. You do sometimes wonder whether they have a vested interest in the drug companies. Who knows!

It's interesting though how the health system works here in France as compared to the UK and I'm sure they could both learn from each other.

In France doctors (think GP) appointments are not needed, you just turn up - never at lunch time though. Pharmacies are all privately owned and there is very little that is available in the supermarket apart from condoms, plasters and homeopathic medicines. District nurse practices are also privately run and owned. There is no such thing as a health visitor.

If you want to have your health care paid for by the state, then you must have a Carte Vitale (or a letter with your temporary social security number on it) and you must have a prescription to see various health professionals. So you can't just make an appointment with the district nurse without first getting an 'Ordonnance' (prescription) from the doctor.

It sounds complicated but like most things, once you've done it once, it all falls into place.

I must say though that I consider our family to be ultra, ultra healthy. We lived in Africa and Asia for 16 years and maybe visited the doctor once a year if he/she was lucky.

Here in France though, my goodness we practically live in the doctor's waiting room.

It's not because we are necessarily sicker than before but because there is less available without prescription and the kids must have a doctor's certificate for every club sport they participate in.

Douglas does tennis as an example and he can't enter a tournament unless his certificate says he is fit to play tennis AND to play in tennis tournaments. He couldn't play badminton though with that certificate.

I'm not slating the French health care system at all but think there may be a wee bit of room for improvement.....

So going back to my hospital stay.

I shared a room with an older lady who was not pleased to see me. She wanted the room all to herself. However when she realized that I was very polite, easy going, didn't snore and hardly spoke (could hardly understand a word she said because of the accent), then she seemed happier.

The nurses were efficient, friendly and all seemed to enjoy their jobs and I was chuffed when they felt my french was good enough to always speak and explain things to me in French.

The hospital food however I must say was a bit hmmmmm. Now I'm not fussy but I did detect that the soup was always the day's before leftovers mashed up and I NEVER got offered wine. I was so looking forward to that.

My older room mate was also not so impressed and i would laugh listening to her phone conversations (of which there were many) in that ten percent of the call was about her and ninety percent was about the 'Menu du Jour'.

So with Christmas just around the corner, I hope our visits to the doctor are over for the year. Well they'd better be as our doctor is away over the festive period and if you visit a doctor who is not your designated doctor, then all sorts of complications arrive.

PS....Drum Roll Please!.A celebratory drink is in order as I've just this morning received a letter which marks the final stage of the Carte Vitale process. It's been a long, yes very long process.

I'm to send a photo and some id and then I'll get my card. Now that will be a great Christmas treat. It's taken one full year to get to this stage and it's certainly worth celebrating.

And I think I might get sick just so as I can use my card....now how sick is that!

So on that note, I wish you all (or those one or two that read this blog) a very HAPPY CHRISTMAS and a HEALTHY NEW YEAR.

Next Time: How Do We earn a Living?

The Good Life...But Is It Really?

We've been here just over a year now and the two questions people ask us when they meet us for the first time are:

"Why did you choose Limoux"? followed closely by

"Well you've been here a year now so you must feel settled. Don't you"?

The first question is easy to answer. The second not so. It's like a year is the magic number. 'Live here a year then you'll be fine'.

We arrived here at the end of August 2008 and so 14 months down the line everyone wants us to say "Yes we are totally settled". But then when we actually say "Well things aren't exactly as we imagined....."

You can see some people are disappointed when we say that and you can see the look of pity and 'Oh dear' seeping from their silent thoughts. Others are secretly happy that we feel like they did at this point in time and are relieved to know that maybe it is OK to feel unsettled after a year.

Don't get me wrong, in that, I don't feel unhappy, or that we made the wrong decision or that French life is not what I thought it would be. It's more that settling into a new place, let alone a new country where the language is rather alien is a long and sometimes frustrating process.

We've lived in 6 different countries throughout Africa and Asia in the past 17 years so I know how long it takes to get settled. Moving to France though was the hardest!

I think it's because for the first time we are living in a house we own, we therefore have more bills to sort out, decorating to do, the garden to plant and look after, organizations to join and we are sort of the odd ones out.

Before we were one expatriate family amongst many, and there were lots of new faces arriving together so we all looked out for one another. Here you are a bit on your own at times and when you have difficulty making yourself understood, then the settling in takes on a whole new perspective.

On the ultra positive side though, the kids are 100% settled at school, we own our house and just love pottering and DIY'ing, we have neighbours that stay put and we can throw away all those boxes and packing paper that I have stored for 17 years in preparation for our next move.

We've got a whole new menu at dinner time, the dog is bilingual, our neighbours offer us honey from their bees or fruit from their garden and we never have to go on a waiting list to see a doctor - except for the optician who never seems to have a free slot.

Through this blog, I have heard from many people who have moved to France or are thinking of moving. Many have sent me messages and others I have met for coffee in Limoux town square and I have really enjoyed telling people how we are getting on and settling in. I really don't mind telling things as they really are and I think it gives a real perspective to other thinking of making the move.

Uprooting and moving away from what is familiar and comfortable to you is a huge undertaking. It is exciting but challenging and at times frightening and frustrating. However if you can get over the humps and bumps, and it is something that you really want to do, then life will eventually become easy and fun.

I have learned it may take a year, maybe even 2 or more. But that is OK.

Time to stop rambling and to get in the garden and take the dog for a walk through the vineyard. Maybe meet a neighbour on the way and have a chat about the weather (which is 28C and blue skied and sunny today :)) and then cook moules marinieres for dinner......ah the good life!

Next Time: I'm having a knee op next month. Do they really give enemas as the cure all for everything and will I get wine with hospital dinners?

No Ordinary Day

Today I received a lovely surprise in the way of an email from Bill. It contained an attachment of his account of a not so ordinary day in Limoux. I have been on at him for ages to write something and so now here it is.....

Tuesday, May 11th 2009.

A day like any other. It is term-time; Nicole and I are both at home. I finished my last assignment at the end of April and am scouting around for new work.

I start the day at 0610. Its getting light now and I make Nicole a cup of tea (he's such a good hubby - ed), make sure Sam is awake and do 20 minutes of exercises – my back is killing me after overdoing the strimming at the weekend.
I take Sam to the school bus for 7am for his trip to Carcassonne and then finish getting up while Nicole drops off Ellie and Douglas at their schools. We've invested in a 'scooter' for the older kids (and, incredibly, for our youngest when he turns 14 next year) but both of them have had minor accidents, skidding on gravel, so we are back in full chauffeur mode.

So the first task of the day is to ride the scooter down to the Peugeot dealer in town. It's a bit of a come-down since my big biking days, but still there is something exciting about being back on two-wheels. The handlebar has to be replaced; apparently a common problem when these bikes are dropped on their side. It's going to cost 117 € but it seems worth having the job done professionally; there's not much room for error on two wheels.

And then we set off for Carcassonne – to reclaim our repaired iron from Darty (it packed up after a couple of months of use) and to do battle with the Caisse d'Allocations Familiales (child benefit office) over our child allowance. First stop, CAF. It seemed rather unusual that all our contact so far had been by telephone, email and post – so we wondered if going in person might help to unblock the payments. No need. After about 20 seconds of waiting we were talking with a conseiller in front of a computer screen who instantly found all our records and informed us that our payments were on their way, back dated to the beginning of the year when I started paying my cotisations. What a result. Of course the money will be useful (especially as I don't yet know when my next job will be), but another sign of our inclusion and integration into the French administration is also very welcome.

Darty (think Dixons ) also goes smoothly. The iron returned and repaired within a matter of weeks (about 3 actually). Meanwhile we get a call from Sam saying that he wants to come home because it is not worth staying at school until 4pm for only one physics lesson. It doesn't seem much of a school day: one English lesson in the morning (where he is more of a resource person than a student), two hours of French cancelled (the teacher has gone for training) and Physics in the afternoon. It seems to happen too often – but at least it is not as bad as the universities which have been on strike for three months. Anyway, we agree to pick him up and take him home, partly because we are in town anyway, partly because his studies are going well and he is serious about them (generally speaking!).

It turns out to be a good decision. Arriving back at the house we find four trees lying in front of the garage door. We bought them ten days ago, to do something about the wind that blows if not constantly certainly regularly up the hillside from west. But their livraison seemed to be difficult for Jardifort. After a week I phoned to ask when they would be delivered and talked with someone who confessed to be so completely débordé (overwhelmed) that he could hardly take time to answer the phone let alone organise a delivery. I tried again yesterday and talked to someone else who said that they just couldn't even suggest when they might be able to deliver. So we were going to go in to see them on the way back from Carcassonne to cancel the order and ask for a repayment… Now Sam can help Dad dig them in. But lunch first…

Lunch was interrupted by a call from Senegal. A former colleague managing programmes for Save the Children in West Africa is looking for someone to help with the strategic positioning of their programme in Nigeria, where there are lots of opportunities to do good work but also lots of choices to make and risks to manage. Sounds right up my street. I hope it works out, but yesterday I also had an interview (by telephone) with UNDP and the Ministry of Planning and Investment in Lao PDR for a three month participatory planning consultancy which would also be very exciting and would mean I could consolidate some work I did there last year. Anyway, it is nice to be in demand. It is my first time in all my working life not to be employed by someone else. It takes a bit of getting used to: the void and uncertainty of not having work lined up and confirmed even over the next few months.

Although I do find it easy to fill the void!

This afternoon it is planting trees. Two of them (a silver birch and an acacia) are nearly four metres already. Instant gardening.

Sam and I work hard; the ground is hard and stony. We have to improve the soil, we have to stake the trees and we have to water them in. I surprise myself how much I look forward to rainy days (or preferably nights) – the water buts are almost empty and mains water is expensive. The gardening goes on into the evening, interrupted by supper and taking Sam to and then from the Aikido club. I hope that scooter comes back soon.

It is 9.30 pm and just light enough to take the dog for a walk around the fields and through the vines without a torch. She chases after the rabbits without success but with a lot of enthusiasm. By 10 o'clock everyone is ready for bed. It has been a busy day. Tomorrow will also be busy – but different. We have to draw the dimensions for the hole that the terrassier must dig for us to install the swimming pool. It's a big job – every time we read the manual we understand a bit more about the challenge ahead.

There are no ordinary days.

Bill

Healthy Reading

Having rarely visited the doctor since our time of living in Africa and Asia over the past 16 years, since living in France we are certainly making up for it.

When we were working in developing countries, our family rule was that we and the kids were "not allowed" to get sick. If we were, then out would come the self diagnosis books (think DIY healthy reading) and drug manuals and off we would go to the pharmacy if necessary. It is not as scary as it sounds as I 'used' to be a nurse and besides it was at times difficult to find the right doctor or the services that we needed.

Anyway roll the years forward to France and in our 8 short months here we have visited : various doctors, X-ray clinics, blood laboratory, specialists, physiotherapists, hospitals, pharmacies.....

I am ashamed to say that most of them are for me - the strong one in the family who is "never" sick. That does still hold true as most of it was for a skiing accident so I do feel that I am still holding my healthy record.

You know what they say about women in their 40's who hit the ski slopes during half term having not skied for years and who then cause mayhem on the piste? ....Yep that was me.

I was the one in the light blue jacket and purple hat who was rolly pollying past you at 100 kms an hour. OK 10km then.

However thinking about our health experiences here, we have been both delighted and frustrated. The delight comes in the efficiency of the health professionals and the health services and we have nothing but good things to say about them all.

Imagine going to visit your local doctor, being seen straight away (and with no appointment), getting a prescription for an x-ray and having that done straight away in the clinic up the road, receiving and having the results explained to you immediately, making an appointment with the specialist and being seen the next week at the time allocated (actually 2 minutes earlier) and then being offered surgery (if I want it!) for the following month. And so it goes on.

No waiting, excellent service and 10 out of 10 all round....except for the radiographer who made me have more x-rays than were prescribed and then charged me (a lot) for the pleasure.

Oh and the other interesting experience (again with the radiographer), was being sent into a cupboard with a man and being told to take all our clothes off (knickers allowed) and to stand there feeling naked and vulnerable until it was 'our turn'. Thankfully the other man was my husband otherwise it could have been interesting.

What I find interesting here in France is how the health professionals seem to work very much on their own in a private practice but who are reimbursed by the state. The local doctor is often a one-man band who answers the phone, sees the patients, does all the paperwork and who cleans up at the end of the day. It explains why it is near impossible to make an appointment over the phone - there's no one to answer it.

The same goes with the local physiotherapists and nurses who seem to be dotted everywhere. Just in our small town of Limoux which has a population of 10,000, we have 22 general doctors, 18 physiotherapists, 11 district nurses, 7 pharmacies, 7 ambulance taxis, 2 x-ray clinics, 1 laboratory plus more.

Are we a sick town or maybe the French just like to keep healthy?

So as you can see we are more than happy with the French health services but if we were to talk about French health care bureaucracy, well maybe a grumble or two is in order. Fill in this, fill out that, send it here, send it there.....and still we are only advancing one incy wincy step at a time.

Basically all we want is to be "IN" the French health care system. We are paying for it (heftily) and our sole aim right now is to get that 'Little Green Card'. The very coveted green card that says you are "IN".

The other day we made what we thought was a big advance when we received 'The Paper'. The magic paper with a big long number on it which is apparently the step before the card. Clap hands everyone.

However quite a few health professionals seem to turn their nose up at it and we get get the "Gives us the card or give us the money" treatment.

So as the money is being handed over left right and center I am beginning to wonder whether I should just go back to my DIY medical books.

In the meantime, other important things are beginning to sprout, such as the garden which has just gone wild. Bill is around for a few more weeks before he rushes off on an assignment so he is busy cutting, trimming, planting and watering. I get the grotty bits like weeding.

It all looks fabulous though and it's like discovering treasure each time something else appears.


Next Time: Working or Gardening - I can't decide. How about 'Working in the Garden' then?

Teenagers in France !

Moving to France with 3 teenagers and a dog in tow was not a decision made lightly.

Mind you we were several steps ahead of many families making the hop across the channel as our 3 kids have been in the French school system since the age of 3 and they already speak French.

For our kids the biggest adjustment we felt they were going to have to adapt to, was living a more 'normal/different' life than what they were used to.

Having lived in Asia and Africa all their lives they were used to warm climates, outdoor living, a lot more freedom in their social lives and dare I say it but a housekeeper who cooked, cleaned and ironed (I miss that too!).

Parties, sleepovers galore, cheap shopping, beach holidays and eating out were all 'normal' life then. The latest fashions were not a big issue, TV was not really thought about, getting out and about in taxis was cheap as chips and kids were out and about doing things in groups on a regular basis whether it was sport or just meeting at someone's house.

And here we were, about to drag them from the bright lights of city living to the country glow of small town France.

Our kids are 13 and 17 (boys) and 15 (girl) so as you can imagine our house at times is high on hormones and hysteria (theirs and mine). But on the whole they are balanced, healthy and cooperative teenagers - did I really just say that?

We purposely chose not to live in rural France, no matter how tempting the estate agents blurb of a "Fully renovated rural French farmhouse with 2 acres of land with a stream and no neighbours" for half our budget was. Teenagers and 'The Good Life' don't always mix. We also chose to ignore the city apartment (us parents needed a veggie patch) and the cute village house looking onto the square (although I am not sure why).

Instead we went for the small town of Limoux in the Aude.

Limoux is a town of 10,000 inhabitants, has a Lycee and college, train station, cinema, restaurants and biggish shops and is only 25kms from the bright city lights of Carcassonne. And it's under 2 hours from the ski resorts and the sea. A perfect compromise.

So how well are they integrating then?

Having being used to socialising with kids of all nationalities and backgrounds, languages and experiences, they have suddenly found themselves 'the odd ones out'. Some treat them as novelties, others ignore them because they are novelties and others have been genuinely kind and interested.

In a way it has been harder for their peers to accept them than the other way round. Our hats are off to our brave bunch of three though as they have each found themselves a great circle of friends - even if we haven't met most of them as they live in a small hamlet in the middle of nowhere.

As for things for the kids to do, we have been pleasantly surprised at how much organised activity there is.

The French love their clubs or associations as they like to call them. The boys have launched themselves into tennis, Aikido and guitar and Ellie does theater and dance. There are clubs galore ranging from canoeing and belly dancing to singing and knitting (I know what the boys would say). Then there are the outings organised by the schools such as ski trips, theatres and spectacles.

The weekends are more of a challenge though as we have found that French teenagers here don't really 'hang out' and much more is done 'en famille' (as a family).

Sleepovers are pretty rare if at all, birthday parties are unusual and meeting up at the weekend for a film and a pizza are just too expensive for many. Also many of their friends live in other towns and villages and with the lack of a local bus system it makes getting from hamlet to hamlet a challenge unless they can persuade their mum or dad with breakfast in bed (hint) to drive them.

One thing we love though is the respect that teenagers show towards each other. Imagine arriving at school in the UK and kissing all your friends hello or shaking hands? Well here it is normal.

We are also relieved to see that fashion 'must haves' are not really a big thing here and that kids love eating school dinners. Interestingly many English kids don't like the school dinners....Jamie Oliver what have you taught them?

Smoking however is a big issue. Getting through the front door of the Lycee at 8am involves a mad dash through a black haze of fumes - and that's just from the students.

Were we concerned about the move to Limoux? YES.

And 6 months on has it gone OK? Surprisingly YES.

We as parents are getting used to having the kids around the house a lot more, having to see (and try and ignore) bedrooms that resemble a boot sale in mayhem, working as a chauffeur and not getting paid (not even with breakfast in bed) and forking out for all those clubs to join.

As for the kids - well they seem to be doing just fine. They have their mobile phones, their computers and hotmail (to keep in touch with old friends), a nice group of new friends plus the odd club to go to, so what more do they want.


As I write this the wind is howling round the door, the blue skies peep every now and then from behind the grey wall of clouds and when Spring comes, I am sure that I will have other things to add to what our 3 teens are up to.....and I hope one of them is breakfast in bed.

Next Time: How we are coping with the health care system.....I snapped a knee ligament whilst skiing.

New Year...New House...New Resolutions

Happy New Year 2009.
December 23rd 2008 was such an exciting day for us - we finally got the keys to our new 'home'.

Needless to say we are just like kids with a new toy. Bill and I continually find ourselves stopping in mid activity to say "We own this house"!

Although we have owned a house in the UK for the past 16 years it was never really 'home' as we didn't live in it - we lived in rented houses/apartments overseas in Asia and West Africa so this to us is very special.

Getting the keys was fun.

We, our estate agent and the vendors met up in the ever important notaires chambers and it was like walking back in time 100 years.

Imagine entering into an oak wood panelled room, faced with walls lined with files dating back to the early 19th century and succumbing to their faintly musty smell. Then sitting in ornate and delicately carved high backed wooden chairs in front of a huge leather topped solid wood partner desk whilst the notaire read out paper upon paper of house deeds and details which were all about us and our new home.

45 minutes later it was all done and we walked out into the sunshine with a big bunch of keys and a huge smile on our faces.

We were now home owners in the sunny South of France.

Sunny did I say?


The last time that snow settled in Limoux was in 1992. However that all changed on the day we decided to move house - Boxing day 2008.

"Yippee" said the kids, "What's this then" said the dog, "*#*@*!*" said the parents.

Our enormous hired Super U van did us proud as it slipped and slid its way up and down hills and slopes and into potholes and dips.

The award of the day though went to Bill who drove it in the most terrifying conditions.

We probably should have abandoned the move that day but you know when you have your heart set on doing something......

Andy and Erica, Bills parents were also with us during the move and we are extremely grateful to their dedicated lugging of bits and bobs and boxes - the quicker they did it the more cups of tea and Christmas cake they received.

We did hear the neighbours whispering something about 'parent labour'...

Three weeks have passed now and although we have unpacked what seems like mountains of boxes we seem to still have several more mountains to go. I do keep asking myself why on earth have we got so much "stuff" and it just goes from box to box to cupboard to shelf and back to box again, until I decide where to put it.

Bill would probably have a good solution.....needless to say I have hidden the bin bags.

As for the kids and Lily the dog, well they too have settled in brilliantly. They each have their own rooms (Lily has a corner) which I have promised not to interfere in (hard, so hard) and they now feel they can invite friends over. Trouble is if they do they are usually asked to carry boxes up and down to the garage and I think they might be expecting payment soon so we might be had up for 'child labour' too.

So the new year started with a new house and now I just need to think of my new year resolutions. I might start with "I must finish unpacking the boxes by Christmas" and "Give more of our 'stuff' to charity".



Next Time: Douglas has just turned 13 so we now have a household of 3 teenagers. What's it like living with teenagers in France?

Hey Ho Hey Ho It's Off To Work We Go....

Who would have thought that you need a degree just to go through the 'simple' process of setting up a business in France?

Much as we'd love to retire, the 3 kids, the dog, the mortgage and the fact that we aren't even at mid life crisis stage have told us otherwise. So we have spent the past month trying to tell the tax authorities "Hey we are here, we are working and we are ready to pay tax".

Simple? Non!

In the UK, you work, you earn, you fill in a tax from and you pay your taxes. Here it's like climbing a mountain, sliding back down and then doing it all over again....ten times. Not only that but the French have invented a whole new working language which goes something like this.

Visit to the Accountant. Discuss our business options - EI, AE, SARL, EURL and BNC. Glad we know the alphabet.

Register with URSSAF to obtain our SIRET from INSEE which includes our SIREN and our NIC. Choose our CAMPLP. Wait for letter from RSI in order to pay CSG-CRDS using an RIB. Wonder whether we should submit a DUE or BNP. Maybe we would if we knew what they were.

Need to still discuss with the accountant about CNAPVL and CNBF which is supposedly about retirement and CMU and ACCRE should the need arise - something to do with state aid.

And that's not even the half of it.

I must say though that everyone we have met from the accountant to the business advisor to the bank manager to the insurance companies have been nothing but ultra helpful. They too laugh at the ludicrousness of the bureaucracy and even admitted that they don't know what some of the 'Secret Codes' are.

So as of the 1st January 2009 we hope that we are in the system. We haven't yet decided which letters to go for but maybe MYOB would do for now.

Apart from trying to pay our taxes we have also been busy enjoying the Christmas preparations here in Limoux which are much more low key than back in England.

Peverse as it sounds, I kind of miss the manic frenzy of Christmas preparations and fraught parents and over indulged kids wherever you turn.

We have also been sampling the delights of the 'Foire au Gras' and the local fetes and fund raisers not to mention getting ready for Bill's parents arrival - our first visitors which will be very exciting.


And most exciting of all.....23rd December 2008 is the day we are signing the Acte de Vente. In other words we get the keys to our new house.

I do feel for the owners thought who failed to get their mortgage (he is self employed and French banks don't like to lend to non-salaried people - bizarre) so they are moving into rented accommodation. I hope it doesn't spoil their Christmas too much but then again at least they got a buyer for their house.

OK, BTW G2G and Merry Christmas To You All =]


Next Time: Winter in Limoux. Can we cope?

Lu et Approuvé

"Lu et Approuvé" for those who haven't a clue what I'm talking about means "Read and Approved".

As the weeks draw closer to exchanging the contract on our house (to be done in the official chamber of Monsieur Notaire - the paper signing that is) we have been popping in and out of the bank like Jacks in a Box trying to arrange our mortgage.

The story goes something like this:

Phone rings,
Called to the bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé"
Go home
Phone rings
Called to bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé" 3 times each
Phone rings
Go to bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé" 20 times each
Go home....mortgage offer arrives in the post.

Aha what does it say?

"Please read this carefully and then sign each page with Lu et Approuvé before returning it in the envelope provided".

So now we are thoroughly and truly "Lu'ed and Approuvéd" and feeling so smug as we now have our mortgage.

The date for completion is set for 15th December 2008 and that day just seems far to far away. Mind you in the past few weeks of waiting, we have not been idle.

We have already painted every room, laid out the furniture, measured up for the sofa and sofa bed, plotted where the pool might go, laid the patio, planted the tomatoes, lettuces and potatoes not to mention the mini orchard and started building the gite.

Of course that is all in our heads but so what, it feels real.

Now I know why kids play make believe so often - it's fun!

The other thing we have been doing (besides working, earning and being sensible parents) is initiating ourselves into the world of wine.

It had to happen I'm afraid.

Now we are both pretty allergic to the kind of people who invite you round to dinner and who spend the first half hour sniffing and commenting on the wine they are serving or worse, indiscreetly put your wine next to the oil and vinegar by the cooker. Or the friend (!) who comes round to dinner at your house and brings a bottle of wine for himself to drink at the table as he doesn't trust your choice of wine - it happened to us.

Now we definitely don't want to become like our dear friend however gone are the days when we can pop into Tesco's and just pick "Special offer" or "Half Price" labels. Instead we pop into LeClerc the supermarket and are literally surround by a million bottles and we just stagger about gripping our trolley and feeling dizzy with the choice and our ignorance.

So we have made the grown up decision that the time has come to become 'Un-ignorant'.

So back to our initiation.....

Four of us descended on one of the most famous wine caves here in Limoux, Sieur D'Arques. On arrival we were immediately led down some well worn ancient stone steps into the cold, dank bowels of the winery. Once inside our eyes gradually became accustomed to the eerie lighting to find a neat row of rather battered wooden school desks facing a teachers blackboard. Slight panic set in at this point. It was only when we spotted the neat rows of drinking glasses in all shapes and sizes and the line up of wine bottles did we relax.

And relax we certainly did.

Dominique our teacher for the afternoon did a superb job of teaching us to use our eyes, noses and tongues and to get us to drag from the depths of our lifelong memories all those smells and tastes that we never knew existed.

She didn't do so well though in teaching us to use the spittoon and when she wasn't looking us naughty school kids were gulping and giggling merrily behind our wooden desks.

By the end of the lesson however, we knew all about 'legs of wine', crescents and clarity, swirling and swishing and that the older you are the better you are at discerning the flavours of a wine - at least I now have one good reason to get older.

So although we are not evenly faintly or remotely near wine expert status, at least we can now open a bottle of wine and play "Guess the Flavour" or "Whose wine is it anyway"?

Anyone fancy coming for dinner? And please bring a bottle.

Next Time: Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat....Actually I have no idea what to cook so any ideas are welcome.

Out and About in Limoux

So what is there to do in Limoux?


Every morning since we have been here in Limoux we have woken up to a view of bright blue skies.

We are now heading into mid October and we are just feeling so smug that we can still sit outside and eat our lunch in shorts and sunglasses.....and yes we do wear t-shirts as well. Wherever you stand in Limoux, you can see green hills,trees and clear skies. And it still continues to thrill us.

One reason why we picked Limoux is its location. It is far enough South to allow the BBQ to only have a short time in hibernation and yet we are less than a couple of hours drive from skiing in the Pyrenees or swimming in the Mediterranean (no-one ever told us how cold that sea is!). Only yesterday we were out and about mooching around the countryside in beautiful sunny clear skies and yet were able to see the fabulous snow topped Pyrenees in the distance. It can't get much better.

Limoux is situated in a valley with the Aude River running right through the center of town. That is a another treat that we love. You can walk from the town square to the river in minutes and then stroll for miles (must get into the habit of saying kilometers) along the river edge and see only the occasional lazy canoe meandering past or perhaps the silent and ever patient fisherman. Our dog Lily is in seventh heaven.

With a population of 10,000 and growing, Limoux is not your average sleepy French town. What happened to the mid day siesta and the sleepy mid day afternoon streets? - we were quite looking forward to that.

As in many French towns and villages, life centers around "La Place". A lot of the old architecture remains but the old buildings are very much lived in. Getting to the square involves mastering a labyrinth of narrow streets and lanes which I have failed to understand. Bill on the other hand seems to have a built-in radar and sat nav which gets him wherever he wants to go.


Just today being a Sunday we wandered into town as we had heard there was a small brocante sale on. We were expecting a few weathered looking Frenchmen manning a couple of trestle tables and selling the odd rusty chisel or war memorabilia but no the place was alive and buzzing.

In the square the cafe waiters were busy placing little white 'petit cafe' cups on the round chequered tables whilst kids peddled excitedly around the fountain and French fluffy dogs (all French seem to have one) bounced around greeting each other. Not forgetting the men wandering around grasping two heavy balls in their hands as they meandered off to enter the umpteenth boules competition that seems to take place every weekend.

Sunday is obviously the day to meet, greet and play.

In the afternoon we wandered down to the local tennis club and knocked about a bit on a choice of five fabulous tennis courts. There seem to be so many public facilities available here to encourage people to get out and about and to benefit from the French love of culture, patrimonie, music, sport....

In spite of our ever challenged french verbal skills we are 'muddling through'. Actually that is not so true as Bill deserves a medal for braving all sorts of verbal situations and for being happy to be thrown into the lions den. Whereas Moi - well I still go into paralytic spasms when the phone rings or if someone talks to me without having the decency to warn me that they are about to open their mouth.

As for things for the kids to do well there seems to be no shortage. Naturally things revolve round what is on their MP3 player or the computer but occasionally they surface and join in the fun of the town. There's a cinema, open air concerts plus there are clubs galore (more than fifty apparently) - including rugby, tennis, theatre, swimming, and even aikido. Our 3 have joined all of those and are also wanting piano and guitar lessons plus the trombone.

Bill and I are also about to join the Association de Villes de France whereby we can have French, Italian and Spanish lessons and go on all sorts of outings and tastings and even learn Salsa and belly dancing. Now that would be interesting...

As for meeting people. Well the plan was to integrate with our local French kinsmen as soon as we arrived here in Limoux.

We are trying but it doesn't seem as easy as we had hoped. I think you naturally gravitate towards what seems familiar and so we have met several English speaking families with whom we have eaten, drunk and been merry. French neighbours and acquaintances are polite and welcoming but I think they too are wary at this stage to invite us round for a hearty evening of chit chat and merriment. Little do they realise that a glass of Blanquette de Limoux will quickly sort that problem out.

Actually next week we are going on an "Initiation à la Dégustation" at one of the local Blanquette wineries but that will be a whole story on its own I am sure. We know nothing about sniffing and swilling and spitting but maybe that is all about to change......

So when people ask us why we picked Limoux you can see that for now we have no shortage of answers.

Next Time: Sniffing, Swilling and Spitting - the famous Blanquette de Limoux.

Landed in Limoux

We've landed in Limoux.

Where has the time gone? We have now been here almost 4 weeks and are feeling like we definitely made the right decision to move to France.

The past few weeks have actually been REALLY hectic and gone by in a bit of blur.

However we now:
- have a long term rental
- squashed all our belongings into the garage (we're talking about 30m3 of 'stuff')
- own a car
- bought cooker, fridge, washing machine and TV
- sussed out school transport (well not really as we still don't understand the timetable or lack of it)
- have the kids all in their various schools
- enrolled the kids in various sports clubs
- collected our dog from Toulouse
- sorted all the utilities and bank accounts
- have telephone and Internet
- registered here there and everywhere for all sorts of things
- found time to go to the beach, the mountains, lakes the cinema
- sussed out the town night life of which there seems to be plenty at the moment.....free bands and concerts every night, a fair and circus all this week and next.

Oh yes and we put in an offer on a house!

How I am finding time to write this blog I am not sure but what I am sure of is that Limoux is a fantastic place to live.

People often talk about French towns and villages going into hibernation once the summer is over but here, life seems to go on. In fact life got busier once La Rentree (kids back to school) started. For the past 2 weeks the town has been taken over by a fair, music bands and the all important regional Petanque competition. I nearly bought some balls the other day but then was worried about gouging big chunks out of the lawn in our rented house.

Another French assumption seems to be the 'awful french driving'. In fact it seems safe and sensible to us so far. I am probably in fact the least safe person on the road right now!

We collected our new car (second hand but new to us) 2 weeks ago and I hadn't driven for 8 years so wasn't at all nervous to have to drive it out of the garage forecourt and then drive 25kms straight to Carcassonne! We had to return our hire car the same day so Bill drove that whilst I drove our new car. Was I scared? YES!! Ellie my daughter was with me and she was very good at not pointing out too often that all the other cars were overtaking me.

What about the house we put an offer on?......

We arrived here deciding that we would give ourselves a couple of months to view houses and land (still preferring to build our house and a gite rather than buy ready built) and then by the end of October to have made a decision. Well surprise surprise.....none of that happened.

Firstly several people (yes we know some people now) mentioned about how long self building takes which made us a bit nervous. Sam our eldest has to share a room with his younger brother and he is not too pleased. Nor is he pleased that he is sleeping on cardboard boxes. There is a mattress on top mind you but he feels he's living like a tramp - little does he know! So we feel in all fairness we need to get things moving fast.

Secondly I have been keeping an eye on what's available for the past year - Internet is a wonderful thing - so knew what was available that might suit us.

Anyway to cut a to the chase, we went to visit a house on a hillside and......immediately knew that it was perfect. Well it ticked 9 boxes out of 10 so had to be pretty good.

Box 1: Location, location, location - perfect. 10 mins walk to school for Douglas, 10 mins walk to the boulangerie, 10 mins walk to tennis (free!), open fields around and beautiful view.
Box 2: Large plot (2800m2) plus a building plot attached - perfect.
Box 3: House exactly the size we want and oddly enough it was built by the same building company that we had planned to use and almost to the same spec as the house we wanted to build. Spookey but perfect!
Box 4 - 9: You probably wouldn't be interested about the double garage, basement, study......

Tomorrow we sign the first contract and so you never know we may be in by Christmas.

There is however the little matter about the mortgage which we are working on.......

Next time: Moving out of the honeymoon phase and into autumn living in France.

Limoux is Looming

Our family move to France is just around the corner.

We are just so excited. In less than 2 weeks we shall be winging our way on Ryanair (!) to Carcassonne and then picking up our hire car and heading off on our new journey and life in Limoux.

Everything is in place....sort of. I can't believe the number of hiccups we have had to get to this stage but either way we are still looking forward and treating each hiccup as just a simple detour to our plans.

Our UK house is now sold with the new owner in situ. We have a gite to rent for the first 2 weeks when we arrive in Limoux. We then have a tiny box of a house lined up as a long term rental. The kids are enrolled in their schools (3 schools for 3 kids) and our furniture plus dog are arriving a few days after we get there.

Our dog Lily will be a first time flier and she will be flying on her own and taking three different flights from Hanoi to Toulouse. Let's just hope Air France look after her well. I think the French love their dogs so she should be OK. She'll probably have been fed steak and frites...

Bill is still in Hanoi tying up lose ends and trying to get some consultancies set up for later in the year. Really he would love to retire and grow orchids but I think he will just have to do that in another life. I am back in the UK with the kids, tying up lose ends, popping back and forth to the bank, GP and dentist and above all obsessing over the euro-sterling exchange rate.

Now we have some money from the sale of our house, we need to convert it to euros so we can start house/land hunting in France. For weeks now we have been wathcing the exchange rates and just feeling rather flat and depressed, rather like the exchange rates themselves.

One night couple of weeks ago we decided we just couldn't keep putting it off as you could wait for ever and we didn't really know what we were waiting for. So we picked a day when things looked better than they had for a few weeks and then decided to take the plunge. We dithered a bit and then decided that that when the washing machine had finished that was when we would ring our currency dealer. Now that really is bizarre behaviour from 2 seemingly sensible adults but we needed someone to blame if we had picked the wrong date/time and neither of us wanted to blame each other.

So sorry Electrolux but it's your fault.

So the date is set for next Monday and now we know our budget and let's hope that we stick to it. Hmm.

Next installment: Settling in France. The ups (and maybe downs).

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Well our tenant has vacated!

Two days before the bailiff was due to turn up, our tenant decided to move out. It really must have been in the dead of night and by teleportation as we had various spies watching the property and no one saw him and his furniture leave.

Thankfully he didn't trash the place but did leave a huge brown patch in the middle of the lawn where some say he had a bonfire and others that it was his teleporting launch pad...

Anyway we are thrilled and so is our buyer. In fact she was so thrilled that she decided to metamorphosise from dear sweet old lady to the negotiator. We did sort of expect it but felt we might be able to negotiator a bit but she was having none of it.

Either we reduce the price by antoher 8% on top of the 5% that we had already given her or she wasn't going to buy. We felt totally in a corner and she knew it. We did feel it was a bit of a mean game especially when when she started her case with "I don't normally agree with people who try and reduce the price at the last minute BUT........"

At the end of the day though we just want to move on. There are others in much worse situations than us and at least we have a house to sell. So onwards and upwards from now on.

As for our family move to France, that has not been on the back burner by any means. We now have 2 out of 3 of our kids definitely enrolled in schools in Limoux. Sam our eldest wants to attend a Lyvee in Carcassonne as opposed to Limoux and so it is a bit more complicated. The forms are all filled out though and now we are just waiting for a response.

The other big issue is finding somewhere more permanent to live in Limoux. We have somewhere to live for the first 2 weeks but that runs out the day before school starts. I can imagine the kids ringing us up from the bus stop and saying "And do we have a home to go to mum?"

We can't believe how incredibly difficult it is to find a long term let in Limoux. We are not asking for much - 4 bedrooms, garage and small garden, full stop. That has just proved impossible so we are now down to 3 bedrooms, garage and patio. However that is also proving impossible. Anything that comes on the market that is vaguely possible is gone within the hour. There is definitely a market in and around Limoux for properties bigger than a 2 bedroom apartment - anyone looking for a business?

Luckily we have friends in Limoux who have been fantastic at visiting possible places and asking around for us - thanks Tricia and Chris!

Next time: Will we ever find a house to rent in Limoux?

Did we finally sell our house in the UK?

No we didn't.

For the past month (5 weeks actually) our tenant has not budged. He doesn't answer his phone, ignores emails, ignores letters and we are all hugely frustrated - 'WE' being us the Tod family, the letting agent, the estate agent and mostly our buyer who is patiently waiting in the wings for which we are eternally grateful.

We swing from moments of anger and frustration to moments of pity and sadness for our tenant. For the past 5 years he has been a model tenant. Paid his rent on time, kept the house immaculate and been amenable and obliging.

So what has gone wrong?.... Nobody really knows but whatever it is, it is not doing any of us any good. Oops another nail bites the dust.

Anyway we are still on a high regarding our family move to Limoux. Everyday we think about it, discuss it and dream about the new things we are going to experience and the new life we are going to be part of. Our flights are booked for 18th August (Stansted - Carcassonne) and basically we have our new life sorted till the 1st September.

Then what?..... Panic maybe!

In the first 2 weeks of our arrival in Limoux, we will have to sort out a long term let, buy a car, settle the kids into their new schools (3 schools for 3 kids), buy housey stuff and also try and have a bit of a holiday. Mind you maybe it will all seem like a holiday...well not sure the kids will think the same way.

In the meantime back here in Hanoi, we have just had a long weekend to celebrate the fall of Saigon in 1975. We made the most of it and flew down the coast to a wonderful place called Phan Thiet. My dad and Bill's parents have also been there whilst they visited us and we have always had a really good time..

We had a lovely surprise when we got to our hotel the Blue Ocean, as not only did we have a sea view villa but it also came with its own poool - we were totally gobsmacked and felt very special!

I found 3 cowrie shells (always my mission when we are on a beach), Sam discovered the thrills of kite boarding, Douglas discovered he looks cool in board shorts, Ellie discovered that she could easily eat the largest red snapper in the restaurant and Bill and I, well we just managed to relax and to not think about our house .... sort of.

I blame it on the free Internet in the hotel which is not good when you want to switch off.





So by the time I next write....

* hopefully the legal process will have run it's course and our tenant will be out of our house
* hopefully our buyer will be in there with her paint brushes and
* hopefully the exchange rates will move in our favour.

You gotta have hope :-)

Nicole

Exchange Contracts or Exchange Rates?

This morning we were hoping to exchange contracts with our buyer for the sale of our UK house…..

This morning though, there is panic all round. Well I am panicking even if Bill remains calm. Apparently the buyer went round to see the house yesterday which was vacated at the weekend by our tenant, only to find that he is still there, furniture and all.

She was not happy and neither are we. Funnily enough just 2 days ago I had sent a letter to our letting agent telling them how wonderful they had been at keeping us informed abut everything and being so organized and efficient. Hmmmm. Let's just hope it's a minor blip and that there is a very plausible explanation.

The other thing to worry about though is the Sterling-Euro exchange rate. Everyday we see our money falling further and further. Sometimes we feel lucky in at least we have some money to exchange and at least we have sold (???) our house and other times we just reach out for the gin. What to do and what not to do? Any clairvoyants are welcome to make contact.

Apart from those SMALL worries, we are still avidly looking at property websites and dreaming about the house we are going to build in Limoux and the gite we are going to rent out and the garden full off fruit trees, orchids, vegetables and chickens. Not sure they will all get along. Because of our dwindling budget, the gite has now shrunk from 4 bedrooms to 2. But that's OK though as I never wanted to wash all those sheets anyway.

We were talking to some Vietnamese friends last weekend about house buying and comparing notes. Imagine that there were no estate agents and that you discovered a house was for sale by gossiping with your neighbours or whilst buying tomatoes in the market. Imagine that you discussed the price round the kitchen table or round the mat on the floor whilst drinking green tea or maybe a whisky if you are a man. Imagine not asking how many thousands it will cost but rather how many Taels of gold (1 Tael equals approx 37.5gm). Then imagine rushing round your family and friends to see who might be able to lend you a tael here or a tael there. Imagine that you are not really buying or bidding on the house but what you are buying is the land the house sits on. Then when it's yours you are going to knock the house down and build a house for yourself even if it looks exactly like what you just bulldozed down. Maybe you will add an extra floor though and have 5 one roomed floors instead of 4.

Since we have been living here in Hanoi (for 7 years with a year break in the middle), we have never known what it is like to not have a building site within 500m of our house. If there is land, it will be built upon. If you buy a house, you knock it down and build another. Basically land here is like gold dust (!) but building labour and materials costs little in comparison.

I wish buying land in France could be that much fun. "Excusez-moi. How many baguettes do you want for this field and yes another glass of wine would be lovely."

So for the moment we are in limbo but hopefully by the time I next put finger to keyboard, I will have lots of good news.

Next time: Did we dare to exchange our Sterling to Euros?….Assuming our house sale went through.