The Tour de France – Bon Appétit !

It’s Tour de France time here in the Pyrenees and, as usual, we went up into the mountains to cheer on the riders. What I love about the Tour de France is that it is really just one big picnic with a cycling race attached. And the French certainly know how to picnic - no stale cheese and pickle rolls for them; even on the side of a mountain, out comes the table and chairs, the table cloth, the chilled bottle of wine and the three course meal.

Moreover, on the way home, when we managed to get caught in a ‘bouchon’ of camper vans going nowhere, it wasn’t long before the driver and his passenger in the car in front decided that it was their supper time and, traffic jam or no traffic jam, they were ready to eat. So sure enough, they pulled over onto the verge and once again, out came the table, the chairs, the olives and hors d’oeuvre and they began their repas, seemingly oblivious of their audience in the stationery cars besides them looking on jealously. That was until more and more people decided that they had the right idea and started to join them. What in the UK would have been a fairly miserable or at the very least boring experience, here turned into a street party.

This ability to turn every occasion into an excuse for a good sit-down meal and opportunity to set the world to rights just makes me admire the French even more and reminds me yet again what we are doing here.

House sharing

Every year since we have lived in France, we have been joined in our home in the spring and early summer by a family of kestrels. And when I say ‘in our home’, I really do mean ‘in’ – the kestrels return each year to nest in the same hole in the wall of our house, just above our back terrace and right outside our kitchen door. From a bit of research into these birds, it would appear that these are the same breeding pair each year; they are long lived at 15 or more years, they mate for life and are very territorial.

‘Our’ kestrels have become part of the family now; they are used to our habits and seem unperturbed by our comings and goings, loud mealtimes on the terrace below their nest or by noisy children (and shouting parents!) The only thing that really upsets them is our two cats who take to hiding under the table when the kestrels are nesting to avoid being dive-bombed. We also have got used to their habits and are careful never to walk directly under the nest nor sit too close, particularly as the babies grow and get more adept at dropping pellets and everything else out of the nest onto unsuspecting loiterers below. We have had at least two visitors who have lingered too long outside the kitchen door and have had a very lucky day as a result.

Despite this, we love having them here and look forward to their return each year, eagerly watching for the first signs of nesting which is followed by the calling of the chicks and then our first glimpse of them as they demand more and more food from their industrious parents. We watch as they get so big that they barely any longer fit in their nest hole and seem to literally teeter on the edge for much of the day, calmly observing the comings and goings below. When they finally fledge, most seem to make it safely to the walnut tree opposite although occasionally they join us on the terrace for a few hours, like this one in the photo, before managing to get properly air bound.

Then they gradually move further and further afield although still close enough that we hear their distinctive calls for the rest of the summer and often see them perched watching us from the roof of the house. We feel very privileged to have such a ringside view of the life cycle of such a magnificent bird – another bonus of living in a region where there is plenty of unspoiled habitat, meadows and food for them, thanks to the ubiquity of organic and traditional methods of farming here.  

Proposed tax on second homes scrapped

Good news for people looking to buy a holiday home in France; the French government has abandoned plans to levy a controversial new tax on holiday homes owned by non-residents. This has been worrying many people although, as it turned out, if this new tax had been imposed, it would probably only have amounted to a few hundred pounds a year on the average holiday home.

Up to 360,000 homes would have been liable for the tax under the proposals and it is thought that President Sarkozy backtracked when it was pointed out to him how many French nationals living abroad would also have to pay the tax. The French have a tendency, thanks to their inheritance laws, to hang onto property over generations and so a huge number of French people own second homes, including many who now live and work abroad.  The government was also said to be worried about the effect the tax would have on tourism to France. Moreover, it was suggested that this new tax could have been unlawful under European laws designed to allow the free movement of Capital.

Whatever the political ins and outs, it is good news for my clients currently buying or looking to buy holiday homes and means that France looks set to remain one of the most popular and best value holiday destinations in the world.

Atlantic or Mediterranean for a day at the beach?

We had yet another tough decision to make last weekend – should we head to the Mediterranean or the Atlantic for a day on the beach?

There can’t be many places you can live (in fact there aren’t because I checked on the map) where you can choose to spend the day either at the Mediterranean coast or at the Atlantic, depending on weather and sea conditions. We happen to live roughly equidistant to both and hence, yesterday, having studied Meteo France’s forecast the night before, we decided we would have a day on the beach in the lovely town of St Jean de Luz on the Atlantic, just over two hours’ drive away. The Mediterranean lost out this time as it was forecast to be a good few degrees cooler than the Atlantic. Had we decided to go east to the Med however, we would probably have headed down to the lovely town and beaches of Collioure,  also around a two hour drive away. Either direction is a very easy drive with great mountain views most of the way.

Often the Mediterranean coast is warmer in the Spring and Summer months than the Atlantic, as you would expect but it is also affected by the Tramontane wind which blows along the coastline from Spain sandblasting anything in its way. Not a pleasant experience and even worse for little ones who get the full force of the sand in their face.  The Atlantic on the other hand, is known for its surf and can be dangerous for swimming in places but there are plenty of protected bays where it is calm and safe to swim plus the sea stays warm through the Autumn and right into November when it is certainly still warm enough to paddle, sit on the beach and have lunch on the terrace. Well for us Brits anyway; our French neighbours think we are completely mad to venture near the sea out of season, which is just fine as far as we are concerned  – all the more beach for us. In fact we are quite happy to avoid the peak holiday season of July and August at either the Med or the Atlantic, preferring to head to the mountain lakes and rivers for our picnics and paddling, away from the tourist crowds.

St Jean de Luz yesterday was just perfect – we were enjoying coffee and Gateau Basque on the terrace by 10am and then spent the morning on the beach before tucking into plates of seafood at our favourite restaurant for lunch. Then back to the beach for some tennis, serious sandcastle construction and swimming. We finished the day with a final ice-cream and walk around the pretty streets before heading off around 7pm. A great day out and another tough decision made successfully!

The perfect French house?

More often than not when I view a house for a client, it does not live up to expectations or meet important criteria which means that the majority of houses I view never make the short-list of ‘possible properties’ to show my clients. There could be many reasons for this such as location, the state of the property or unrealistic pricing. So when I see a property which ticks all the boxes, I can’t help getting excited.

Today was one such day when I saw what I might even be prepared to call the perfect French house. By that I mean the type of house which is the epitome of the French dream for many; a classic, stone farmhouse full of character with lots of original features, some outbuildings and land, quiet but not isolated and lots of potential for the new owners to make it their own. This one even had roses around the door. What’s more, it was in that sought-after location on the edge of a nice village within walking distance of a bakery and a cafe.

Actually this is also the type of property that so many people are looking for in the UK but the prices have become prohibitive over the last decade putting such properties out of the reach of most of us. This is not the case here in the Ariège and the Haute Garonne though where you can still find a fantastic farmhouse (needing a bit of TLC) for between 200,000 and 300,000 Euros.

Thus, when I am exploring, I am always on the look-out for any property that might fit this bill. Certainly in this region we are lucky enough to have plenty of lovely traditional stone farmhouses but the difficulty is finding those owners ready or willing to sell.

Sure enough the house I just viewed is exactly what my clients have been looking for (unsuccessfully) for the last two years and they put in an offer on the first viewing which, after a bit of negotiation, has now been accepted. I do like a happy ending.

Delays ahead - with bells on...

In the next couple of weeks I will be allowing extra time when out on property searches and viewings in the high valleys of the Pyrenees. At this time of year roads and even whole villages are likely to be closed at certain times to accommodate one of the great cultural traditions of this part of the Ariège; the transhumance or literally ‘the seasonal movement of livestock,’ a practice which dates from at least the Middle Ages.

This happens twice a year and takes on epic proportions when the animals from the farms on the valley plains are herded up to the high mountain pastures to spend the summer months in freedom. In October it is the opposite procedure with the descent back down from the mountains to the valleys for the winter. The numbers are impressive - in the Ariège over 12,000 cattle, 40,000 sheep and over 1,000 horses make this annual pilgrimage to higher pastures. This is why, when walking the mountain trails and passes around here in the summer, the hills are alive with the sound of bells; you will often come across groups of Merens, the local breed of horse, a bell around the neck of the leader, free to wander where they please, or cows similarly oblivious to the gentle chiming they make with every move. Likewise, you will find herds of sheep seemingly quite alone but actually guarded by the beautiful white dogs of the Pyrenees, the Patou, who stay with the animals and protect them from attack or harm.

The journey from valley to mountain with the herds of animals during the transhumance can take several days and takes on a holiday atmosphere with many members of the villages and surrounding farms helping out and camping together each night. The whole event has become a friendly social gathering and walkers are always welcome to join the farmers as they move their animals. Many have no experience of farming but take part in order to encounter a way of life still so firmly rooted in tradition and something that probably most of us imagined had died out centuries ago.

For me, the most dramatic procession from a spectator’s point of view is the troupe of 200 or so Merans horses (the local breed) making the journey from their fields in St Lizier through the narrow streets of the towns and villages and then slowly up the mountain roads, expertly herded by a few brave souls whose main means of controlling them seems to be a frantic waving of arms. It’s certainly not a sight that you see every day and a perfect illustration of the enduring and unchanging way of life here in the foothills of the French Pyrenees – and certainly a more entertaining way to be delayed on the way to work than heavy traffic on the M25.

 

Have the French found the recipe for happiness?

According to a survey by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), the French spend more time eating, sleeping and shopping than any other country. I have lived in France for eight years now and I would say that yes, it’s all true – but how do they do it, how do they find all this extra time in their lives when the rest of us seem to struggle to find time to grab a sandwich or even get enough sleep?

Apparently the French sleep an average of 8.5 hours (yes average!) It makes France the longest sleepers out of all 34 of the OECD’s members. Does this mean that the French have less to fit into their days or are they just more relaxed about what does and doesn’t get done? Do they have less to worry about – or maybe they expect the state to do their worrying for them – and thus sleep easy at night (or in the afternoon!)

The French also spend the most time eating and drinking at more than two hours per day on average which is nearly twice as long as the Americans and Canadians. Looking at obesity rates though, clearly time spent consuming doesn’t necessarily mean more consumed. Of course it is this emphasis on long, lazy lunches that brought many of us here in the first place but it is very noticeable that the French do not eat or drink excessively – a meal is probably less dense than in the UK but each element makes up a separate course to be lingered over, enjoyed and never rushed. Nor do the French tend to snack in my experience. So more food and wine isn’t crossing the lips of the French – it just feels as if it is.

It turns out that the French are big shoppers too – or perhaps just slow shoppers.  According to the report, the French spend 32 minutes each day shopping. However, I would guess that we are primarily talking about shopping for food here. Most of the French people I know shop for fresh ingredients every day and have no problem taking their time about it – it is all part of that pleasure of appreciating their food.

Unsurprisingly therefore, the report also shows that French people have the second-highest life expectancy in the OECD, presumably thanks to the high amount of time spent enjoying themselves. Add that to the 28% of GDP that the French state spends on healthcare and social welfare, the highest spending of any OECD country and it all starts to make perfect sense.

The rest of us can only look on enviously - or make that move to France and hope that some of the magic dust rubs off. Vive la France!