With a mix of pride and guilt I can add to my list of long-suffering family and friends, our property guru Nadia. No sooner have we told her that Jam Jar Villa is ‘the one’ are we telling her how much better another property – that I only looked at because it popped up on a facebook sidebar ad – that has been on the market for FIVE years – would be for us.
I had thought the only type of property that could excite us after ‘Lizzie’ would be a watermill. This new chambres d’hotes option isn’t a mill but it does have a waterfall!!! to one side. A freakin waterfall. Or is it a babbling brook? There’s only so much trust you can put in agent’s photos. And thanks to Nadia I am really suspicious of the way this property’s photographed. Only two sides of the house are shown, closely cropped so we can’t tell how close neighbours and roads are or get the lay of the land or lack of it. There’s something I can’t make out in the top right hand corner of the shot. Is it an electricity station? An open shutter? Part of the elevator (it has an elevator!!!!) workings?
But even if the position and plot turn out to be not quite as good as we’re imagining right now, this property had me so excited that I was dancing and running and grinning around the house last night, like Tigger on his birthday. And having this property and the further options it affords us, just in the nick of time, to discuss over the first phone call with our new tax and business advisor based in Toulouse this morning, has Ben and I jumping for joy inside at what it, combined with the risks and hard work so far in Jam Jar 1, could mean for us financially, and through that, personally. A complete lack of pressure and stress and as much security and flexibility as we could dream of, for the rest of our lives. Really this time.
If Lizzie is the aspirational heart over head scary risky but full of potential and convenience option, then the old school house plus ski spa resort bolt hole let is the sound investment for our money. The wise move with personal benefits that outweigh the personal romantic, whimsical dream sacrifices. Yet so immensely exciting in that it combines the sort of home we wanted (minus the garden), in the sort of village in the sort of location we wanted, with the sort of business we now feel more comfortable and confident with than the roulottes, with a second string to our bow: a separate holiday let we can use for christmases, last-minute breaks, visiting family and friends, a base for skiing. A use of our money we talked about the first few days of this mind-blowing process, before the idea of roulottes was anywhere near entering our heads.
In the seven texts from Ben waiting for me when I got home from a couple hours at a friend’s house yesterday, ‘tonnes of cash’ cropped up again and again. It’s not really the physical cash that we want though, it’s the complete removal of pressure it means for the rest of our lives. This is a property nobody else wants. Nadia has never even viewed it for a client in the five years it’s been on the market. There are three separate listings for it on the property website we use for our searches. What could be wrong with it beyond the lack of garden that would turn it from the answer we’ve been looking for to the biggest disappointment so far? We thought we had this search all wrapped up. We should have known.