Building A House In Provence, Part IV

  The continuing saga of building a house in France(see below for links to the first 3 instalments) We went to a huge development near Aix-en-Provence with over fifty model homes, so prospective clients could see the finished products of many French builders. We finally settled on a well-known builder in Provence, thinking this would keep us safe from a possible bankruptcy, which seems to be par for the course with any building project I have ever been involved in. We liked the model we’d seen; it appeared to be good quality and wasn’t at an excessive price. A few weeks later, we met with an architect who made changes to a standard plan. I had pictured a home with a wide, long porch overlooking our great view. I pictured big sliding glass doors leading out to the porch, making the porch a part of the living room. I found out that this wasn’t a possibility in the Luberon, the section of Provence where we would be living. Our house had to look like the typical bastide there: small shuttered windows, stucco exterior and tile roof (with no rain gutters). We were able to have some sliding glass doors but we learned that the heat can be so oppressive and the mistral winds so strong that small windows with shutters are a way of life here, a proven method to deal with Mother Nature. We could have a small porch, and Maurice and I decided we’d extend it with a patio after the house was built. I even thought of screening in the porch but was told that the mistral would blow the screen right out. I wanted to spend time on the porch eating meals and enjoying the view but knew that something would have to be done for fly protection. Of course, this being France, no screens are provided for any windows. They hadn’t had them for centuries, why start now? A small company is starting to make window and door screens, and I think the business will take off once people here find out how great it is not to have flies and mosquitoes invade their homes. We made a special trip to Provence to meet with Stephane, our future building supervisor. In one day we had to decide where we wanted every electrical plug, light fixture, window, bath tub, and much more. Then, at the end of this exhausting day, we had to pick out our bathroom tiles, floor tiles and exterior color. This was when I discovered the kitchen counters and cabinets weren’t included. This appears to be fairly standard in France; when we moved into our apartment in Paris, we bought the kitchen cabinets and appliances separately. If we hadn’t, the owner would have taken them with her. We were to learn that a lot of other things wouldn’t be included in the price of our house, but this wouldn’t happen until months later. Finally the time came for the ground to be broken. Again, we made a special trip to Provence and drove out to our land. Indeed, there was a hole dug in the shape of the house but as we stood there looking at it, Maurice said, “Do you remember the house being this close to the road?” He was right. There was a ten-foot difference between our house plan and what, I guess, the man doing the digging had on his plan. This didn’t inspire confidence in our builder. The very first thing they do, and it’s wrong? I was a little worried. A few days later a team came out and remeasured everything, then told us they would dig in the correct place. Then we got a call from Stephane saying they’d found many more rocks than anticipated, and we would have to pay extra. We figured this was something, being builders for years in the area of Provence, they should have anticipated, and refused to pay. With the problems we were seeing in just the beginning stages of building our house, Maurice thought maybe he should rent a room at a gite so he could be on-site as work progressed. This might have been a really good idea if the area hadn’t had the wettest autumn in years. It poured every day and they were unable to start building the foundation. Of course, if the digging had been started in the correct place, the foundation would have been done well before the rain started. Before we ever started buiding, I had told my optimistic husband that building a house had never been a fun experience for me. People who tell you that their building experience was wonderful are the same as those married couples who tell you that they have never had an argument. And the fun was just starting. —Linda Mathieu, formerly from Austin, Texas, is a professional journalist and photographer living in Paris. She delights in taking tourists around Paris showing them her favorite views and photo ops. To learn more about her tours go to: [email protected]