By / 1st February, 2017 / Uncategorized / Off

Four years ago today, full of nervous excitement, we boarded a plane in Melbourne for our house-hunting trip to France.  We had 25 houses lined up to see over two weeks and we were armed with a check list of things our new house would need to have.  It was a crazy mix of the practical – close to trains and with a fully fenced garden – and prosaic – turrets and a sweeping gravel driveway leading up to a chateau.  Here are a few of the contenders we viewed…

Those of you who have visited La Pommetier will know that the practical won the day with a 10 minute drive to Bayeux station and a six foot stone wall surrounding our house and garden.  We did get lovely granite cobbles for our driveway but the turrets got swept aside by the charm of Arromanches and thoughts of long walks on beaches steeped in history.

Arromanches was the only village we visited that felt alive in the dead of a northern French winter.  On a cold, wet and windy February morning there was a small crowd of visitors waiting for the museum to open, walkers were heading off along the beach and clifftops no doubt building an appetite for a hearty lunch, and locals were walking dogs and stopping to chat with baguettes from the village bakery poking out at odd angles.  It was perfect.  I was sold.  Turrets would have to wait.