English 
Français OUR HOME: FROM DREAM TO NIGHTMARE
Like many French people, my husband—whom we affectionately call Chouchou—dreams of having his own house with a garden. Personally, I’ve always lived in a flat and haven’t ever missed having a garden.
But when we decided to leave Paris for Bordeaux, it was also so we could buy a house within our budget. Well, obviously, 100m² in Paris and 100m² in Bordeaux – strangely enough – don’t cost nearly the same…
For several months, we’ve been scouting the Bordeaux property market from afar – until we finally arrived here! We’re absolutely thrilled at the thought of settling our little family into a cosy home. It’s perfect timing: mortgage rates are at an all-time low, and property prices are falling. We know this is our year and that we mustn’t miss this golden opportunity.
Unfortunately, on our budget, we can’t afford our dream home in the area we’re looking for. As we absolutely don’t want to compromise on the location, we have to resign ourselves to making concessions on the property itself.
It might seem a bit rigid not to want to budge on the location, but by moving to Bordeaux, we didn’t want to be forced to own two cars when we had none in Paris, and above all, we didn’t want to spend our time stuck in traffic on the Bordeaux ring road and end up with a longer commute than we had in Paris. (We were lucky in Paris; our journeys weren’t very long.)
So, location remains the number one criterion: it has to be close to my work and the nursery (the nursery being next to my work). Naturally, as my workplace is in one of the most expensive areas of Bordeaux, the choice of properties within our budget is dwindling fast. We turn our attention to the neighbouring town, which is also expensive – but slightly less so.
We view a first house, which we quite like, with a lovely garden. And even though some renovation work is needed, it fits within our budget. However, it’s situated on a very busy road. Having always been used to peace and quiet (yes, even in Paris!), the constant noise of passing cars puts us off.
Another house is very old-fashioned, with no double glazing, and on the same avenue: you can hear the cars even more. It’s just not on.
The third house we’re viewing is in a good location for us, and in a very quiet neighbourhood. We’re prepared to put up with the fact that it’s a semi-detached property… However, the layout of the rooms doesn’t suit us at all; we’d have to completely rethink everything: the living room is upstairs, the kitchen on the ground floor… What’s more, the garden is absolutely tiny, with a direct view of the neighbouring house. It’s within our budget, but with the work that would need doing, we simply couldn’t keep up.
Finally, the fourth house we’ve viewed seems perfect for us. Recently renovated, there’s no work to be done, apart from tidying up the overgrown garden and putting up a fence. The size suits us, especially the large 50m² living area: our daughter will have plenty to do in the living room. Two bedrooms in the loft: personally, I’ve always really liked the idea, even if Chouchou isn’t quite as keen on loft bedrooms (understandably, as he’s taller than me, so he bangs his head more easily when the ceiling drops…).
Perhaps we’re blinded by how perfect the place looks, but we decide to go for it fairly quickly after viewing it. We’ve listed its flaws and try to get the price down accordingly, but we don’t succeed. We’re then prepared to go up to the asking price. However, the estate agent then tells us that the owner has accepted another offer at the price…
So the house of our dreams slipped through our fingers.
I’m quite a pragmatic and calm person, so I get over it fairly quickly and move on. I tell Chouchou that if it’s not this one, it’ll be another. But of course, we’ve got nothing else interesting left to view. My husband is very disappointed to have ‘missed out’ on the house – he even thinks I’m heartless, as I’m getting over it much quicker than he is. I list the flaws for him again so he can try to come to terms with it, but he won’t budge: we’ve missed our chance.
Two days later, the estate agent calls us back to say that the owner prefers our application – which is financially stronger – and would rather sell the house to us. My husband is over the moon, and I’m finding it a bit hard to take in. I don’t think it’s very classy of the owner to change his mind after accepting an offer… but never mind.
The estate agent calls us back later, explaining that the owner isn’t in France at the moment and it’s difficult to get hold of him on the phone. In any case, he seems determined to drive up the price by selling it to someone who’s offered more. The estate agent reassures us by saying he isn’t allowed to sell it for more than the agreed price.
After a few back-and-forths, we finally sign the preliminary sales agreement. A few concerns are raised about electrical compliance, a few issues to be rectified, and there’s also a hidden septic tank that needs filling in. But we’re happy; everything’s fine. My husband feels he’s got a ‘good deal’, as compared to other properties in the area, the house is at the lower end of the price range.
Everything is fine, until we move into the house and gradually discover that the renovation hasn’t been carried out to the proper standard.
We started noticing lots of little faults, and we realised that, in fact, the owner had bought a run-down property, which he’d simply spruced up to sell on. The estate agent had fed us a load of rubbish about how the owner had bought the house for himself and his family and had separated from his wife during the renovation. It all seemed to make sense, so we didn’t dig any deeper.
My husband feels he’s been had. As for me, I’m staying calm, and I try to reassure him by saying that, anyway, there’s always work to be done in a house. But as the weeks go by, the list of things that aren’t right keeps getting longer, and when winter arrives, we realise that the heating isn’t powerful enough and the insulation leaves a lot to be desired. We’re freezing our bums off, basically!
Later, whilst chatting to a neighbour, my husband discovered that the owner had been employing workers off the books. The roller shutter on the bay window, which had been presented as new, broke down, and we realised it wasn’t new at all, but had been salvaged from who knows where. We’ve found a water leak in our bedroom: the roof tiles were repositioned incorrectly after the skylight was fitted.
And the carpenter, whom my husband had contacted because he had doubts about the solidity of the extension, told him that the owner had refused to pay him and that he’d been forced to threaten him. He also revealed that one of the house’s walls wasn’t very solid, and that he’d told the owner to reinforce it, to no avail. It’s impossible to know whether this wall is sound or not without an expert assessment, but that’s all it takes for my husband to start freaking out and fearing the house might collapse.
He feels overwhelmed by the problems, doesn’t know where to start… He’s getting depressed. The dream has turned into a nightmare for him, and it’s awful to see my husband feeling so down. I know that all these things are manageable, fixable, and that with time, the house can look like what we wanted, but Chouchou can no longer see the positive side. He blames himself, thinks it’s his fault and that he was naive. Although we bought this house together, he’s shouldering the responsibility all on his own.
There’s nothing serious about it, and I’m trying to convince my husband of that, but he probably needs a bit of time before he can accept the situation and agree on what we need to do next.
