It reminded me of our many moves. Ron and I bought seven properties in our 46 years of marriage. The first was a new bungalow on the coast road at Portishead and the last a luxurious flat overlooking St. Tropez. We enjoyed the thrill of new adventures and never regretted one move. We sold each time in one or two days after putting our property on the market. My husband thought this was due to the scenes I painted on the walls, but he wore rose tinted glasses!
When Ron died I sold two flats on the Mediterranean and moved back to York intending to buy there. It wasn’t for me, and in ten days I was in Paris living with friends. Then my ex-neighbours lent me their flat on the Port of Bormes and I looked for a home to buy.
House hunting alone was no fun at all. I knew the estate agent so had the key of anything interesting before anyone else. One house was divided into two flats and the ground-floor one was for sale. It was on the coast road to Cannes and half way up a small mountain! I left my car at the bottom and climbed a steep path. The empty house felt very scary, and what a shock I had when I opened the back door, it was over a steep drop, and to reach the rear gate you stepped out onto a bridge. I didn’t as it was red with rust!!
Two years later I bought my present home in Marshfield Park. Am I here for the rest of my life? Perhaps! In June I was very tempted to buy a flat in Boulogne-sur-Mer, in a residence called “Le Bristol”. At only 116,000 euros it was a great bargain with fantastic views over the pleasure and fishing ports. The cost of living is much cheaper in France i.e food, wine, fuel and taxes. Being opposite to one of my favourite hotels, I could have eaten there every day with my friends! In July when I next saw it, the new owner had moved in. Why didn’t I buy? I realised that I would miss my family, friends and life here too much.
C’est ma vie! Be happy!