
This
is an article I wrote 2 years ago, that has been very well
published on the net.....
“The 8.16 train
to London Victoria has been cancelled due to leaves on the
line. We apologise for this inconvenience"
A collective groan, with British reserve, reverberated
along the station platform. Another normal day in the life
of the commuter trying to get into work to earn a heavily
taxed crust.
I stood on the station platform and looked around me. That
familiar site that had greeted my pollution-reddened eyes
for the last 15 years was becoming tainted. The drab
colours of ill-fitting and over worn suits, mixed with
badly ironed shirts and “racy" ties. Let me tell you about
those ties.
It seems that there is a belief that you can be thoughtless
and grey in all of your attire, but when you enter a
Gentleman’s outfitters, and head for the section marked
“Ties", you enter into a new world. This one garment can
describe and liberate you, verging on being risqué and out
of character. Your eyes are attracted to South Park
characters, Disney or at worst, a Jackson Pollock
reproduction that looks like your scrambled egg missed your
mouth. You purchase this tasteless tie, and walk out of the
shop, floating on air, like Mary Poppins clutching onto her
umbrella.
The weather too- the favourite topic of conversation- never
seems to vary. The grey, heavy skies with ever threatening
rain, add a dull lustre to everything.
So, while waiting for the next train, that I know will be
full, and that we will be treated to an experience that
even cattle on the way to market would decline, I had to
ask myself a question. What’s it all about? This has been
my life for the last 15 years, the quality of my life is
being diminished by continuing to be a rodent clone in this
rat race, and there must be a better way to exist- even to
live happily every day. Is there a way out?
My brother had left England and moved to South West France
to start a new life. He was vaguely forced to do this, as
he had fallen victim of the 21st Century culture of being
far too old at 54 to be considered for new employment. What
happened to those values that stated that experience is
everything? He bought a ruin of a property in a small
village for next to nothing, spent 1 year renovating it,
and began a new life.
I had been to visit them on a few occasions and discovered
a region in France that I had previously not known. The
Languedoc-Rousillon is on the West coast of the
Mediterranean heading towards the Spanish border. Their
home is situated in one of the 6 regions, namely the Aude.
The 5 other regions are Herault, Tarn, Haute Garonne,
Ariege and Pyrenees Orientales. Each one is different,
filled with touristic and rural villages, beaches,
mountains, waterfalls, history, and variety to quench all
tastes. More detailed information on the regions in future
articles.
Maybe this is the way out? Sometimes the best solutions are
the most obvious and simple. Why not sell my home in
London, kiss goodbye to my fellow commuters (maybe not) and
buy a property in the Aude and work for myself.
Over a gin and tonic, with plenty of ice, a plan was
hatched. I would go and spend 2 weeks with my brother, make
appointments with property finders and try and find the
dream. I booked my budget ticket and flew out, filled to
the brim with expectations. That was short lived as the
property finders had not followed my brief at all, and the
appointments that they had made for me turned out to be a
total waste of time. Estate Agents were not expecting me,
then they dug out a handful of properties to show me that
missed the mark by many kilometres.
Imagine looking at properties, day after day, that, even
with the wildest imagination, one knows that they could
never be renovated to any suitable level of comfort or
quality. I was looking for a primary residence, not a
holiday home, and therein lies a big difference. Holiday
home buyers can see things through rose tinted spectacles
as their needs are different to purchasers who aim to live
permanently in their new home.
At the end of my first week and 27 properties later that
all got an emphatic thumbs down, I was walking from my
brother’s home to the Boulangerie (a trek of at least 1
minute), when I spotted a hand written notice on a green
metal gate. “2 houses for sale, could be made into 1, with
other properties. Contact buyer on ****** )
A phone call
was made, an appointment set up for later that morning.
What lay in wait behind that green gate?
Imagine 300 year old stone which was part of the villages’
ramparts. Originally the total property for sale contained
6 homes, now turned into 4 “spaces", which included a
ground floor apartment that was being used, partly, as a
“kitchen" to sell Kebabs through a window to passing trade
and a greasy living area. Then we have next door, a
commercial property that housed an Estate Agent of unknown
origins. Above both of these ground floor properties, there
are 2 houses, both containing 2 floors. Lost? So was I when
being shown around- trying to imagine the overall picture.
After an interesting 3 hours of drinking Ricard and
negotiating in typical French style, a deal was struck to
purchase all 4 “spaces", and at the end of my second week,
I was a home owner in Bize-Minervois, Aude, Languedoc.
I was now free to make the next bold step and sell up in
London and move to the Aude, refurbish the spaces into
workable properties, and start the dream. It was no easy
move, with many “interesting" experiences. I decided to set
up my own Property Finding Services to offer future dream
hunters a smoother ride down this worth-while but pot-holed
route to leaving the rat race behind.
The
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