So, The Boss, me and DS (whom we will call Chopper) travelled down through France to see the Notaire (solicitor) and finalise everything. We had previously carried out an international money transfer whilst Skypeing between our homes in Hertfordshire and Stroud. It caused some squeals when our money disappeared through the ether, but luckily it arrived where it should.
We drove past La Petite Maison before we took possession. It seemed to have disappeared behind the vegetation. That would soon change however, when Chopper was let loose.
The Notaire read all the many sheets of the paperwork out to us in very speedy French. I nodded when it seemed necessary and tried to make it look like I had understood. The Boss understood even if I didn't. We had to initial every sheet and after half an hour or so it was complete. La Petite Maison was ours!
We were itching to get back and Chopper was set free in the front garden which he attacked with gusto.
By the time he had finished there was daylight and the front was visible.
The back garden will take a lot more work.
Inside is looking grotty as would expect from a house which has been empty for the past 15 years, me and The Boss swept and de-cobwebbed.
The Juliet Balconies still look lovely.
With all the activity our neighbour, Gerard popped in to say hello. Gerard was an archetypal Frenchman and spoke French with a local accent. He told us a bit of the history, a family with their eight children had lived there but the children had left over the years and their parents were now dead.
It's looking sad and neglected, now it's up to us to breathe new life into it. The Boss and me are back over this Bank Holiday weekend and we propose to make several trips to the local tip, I'll let you know how we get on.