June 2008. Day One (2)

Time to unpack. Uno problemo. The house has a walled area, which I call the Courtyard for want of a better name. 

Attached to the house on its left side, and at right angles, is the Tall Barn......

Its roof is up but only just. It is very pretty, being open fronted with curving front beams.

In between the Tall Barn and the house is the Middle Barn. This is a total ruin, with a collapsed roof although the walls are still standing. 

On the other side of the Tall Barn, and at a slight angle inwards, is the Porchway.....

It has had two huge old oak gates in the past, one is still in place, the other is lying on the ground. Looks like someone has barged it down. Attached to the Porchway is the Hut. It is quite tall, and shares the roof of the Porchway. This has attractive cross hatching in front, but a small doorway which we have to stoop through. All is intact inside. A much smaller space than any of the other buildings, the roof is still good, and it is dry. It is, however, a black hole of a space. I have never seen such thick, dark, cobwebs in my life. They are in profusion. One cannot move without brushing against one of them. 

I retreat at speed. 

On the right hand side of the house is the Side Barn. It is smaller, and has a sloping roof. It also has a big wooden door still intact. This Gary & Co remove so they can get inside....

......The floor is uneven. Looks like someone has started digging it out. The roof at the end has tumbled. Thick fronds of ivy trail gracefully through the space where roof tiles used to be. Very rustic. 

At right angles to the Side Barn is a tall wall. This provides two sides of a square, and meets with the Hut. This, then, forms the Courtyard. 

The house has not been inhabited for a long time. It has the calm tranquillity of a house slowly ending its days, ivy romping itself hither and thither to camouflage the decay. It is beautiful. And within the Courtyard itself there is much natural growth. A large fig tree inside the wall, some smaller trees outside the wall, the ground covered over with a profusion of greenery, mostly grass. Tall grass. Wet grass. It is like a jungle. OK, so that is an exaggeration. But it is June, the grass has just had its early thrust of growth, and it is lush and it is vibrant. 

The strimmer is needed. If Gary & Co are going to unpack the vans then they need to be able to get through that grass. Time is pressing on. Where is the strimmer. We don’t know. Inside one of the vans. Don’t know where. Need something to cut the grass with. Breadknife. I know where that is because I have just made sandwiches with it. It is easily found and given to Lester who then embarks upon the task of hacking a pathway for Gary & Co to get to and fro. 

It is slow work. 

“Helloooooo”, a voice calls. It is still early. “Helllooooo” again, followed by the appearance of Sara, who introduces herself as our neighbour down the lane who owns La Maison des Chameaux. She is on the school run. Does not stop long, Promises to send some tea along. She is English. Nice to know we have English nearby. 


Another car draws up. Out gets a grim faced man. French. Starts waving his arms about. Barks French words at me. Lester appears. None of us understand each other. Another car arrives. A man gets out with a tray full of cups of tea. It is Paul, the husband of Sara. He knows the Frenchman. Speaks with him. Says the Frenchman wants to buy a strip of land from our field on the opposite side of the lane, the field which adjoins his property, so he can run a track from the lane to the back of his place. We have already said no, by email the request came through several months ago when we were still resident in the UK, absolutely no, the answer has been given. 

Paul thinks that we are not being good neighbours. Says that we should help our neighbour out. 

The neighbour continues to fume and shout and wave his arms in the air. 

Gary & Co meanwhile keep on unloading the vans. 

Lester is now starting to fume. He says that this it is his land. Things are getting heated. I am concerned lest Lester throw him a punch. Not a good thing to start our new life here with a physical set-to with the first Frenchman we meet. 

Paul hands the now cooling tea around. 

With a last tirade of words, the Frenchman leaves. Paul leaves. Lester continues to breadknife the grass. I hover around. All of us have damp feet now. It must have rained quite a lot yesterday. 

Gary and Co keep on unloading. Some items in the Tall barn. Some items in the Side Barn. And horror of horrors, quite a few are being put in the Hut. Feel that I want to organise the placement of these items so I know where to find things. Start giving directions to Gary’s co-worker, who does as I ask and puts things where I want them to go so I can find them again later, so that I have a map in my head of where everything is.  It is not to be. Gary is boss of this move, and asks his co-worker to put the boxes in a different place. So I give up, and help Lester with the grass cutting. I find my dressmaking scissors and use these. They were never the same again.