Newsletter 3: A Castle To Call Home

It is common knowledge, to those well-read and informed ones among you, that all Europeans are rich. Being so wealthy, it is only normal that the whole population prefer to live in mansions. These houses, if one is allowed to call it that, are all enormous – the size of the building only depends on the contents of the proud owner’s bank account, whether the currency is Euro’s, Pounds or whatever.

Potential real estate buyers who are marginally wealthier than the normally rich, can even choose to live in manor houses, situated on beautifully manicured country estates. In addition to these aforementioned affluent Europeans, one also finds the fortunate few inheritors of family fortunes - the elite who always desire to appear slightly more prosperous than their neighbours. These select souls can even afford the luxury and charm of staying in a medieval castle.

Imagine that, living in a place hundreds of years old, protected by history embedded in the thick stone walls. Not only do you have enough space, inside your castle and on the grounds surrounding it, but it is also safe and warm. Well, only if you have an effective heating system. Luckily, as we all know, nowadays no castle is without central heating, to protect body and mind from the onslaught of the harsh, inhuman winters.

After spending several hours on the internet, I was convinced that countless castles were eagerly waiting to be sold on the French property market. Thus, with a detailed mental picture of the one I wanted to live in, I arrived in France. Excitedly, I prepared myself to finally fulfill my lifelong dream of dwelling in my own castle.

Since childhood, I have fantasized about owning a castle I could call home. I had waited long, sometimes difficult years, for that elusive dream to come true. During that time of anticipation, I had painted a romantic picture in my mind of that wondrous, enchanted place.

The image of my own castle often gave me hope, a reason to live for. I was convinced that my castle dream was now within my grasp. Soon, the illusion would be transformed into something tangible. I already almost felt the solid walls of the place around me. Before long, my dream would stop fading into obscurity like the dreams of night at the moment of waking.

Supported by the unlimited availability of the mighty South African Rand (that’s the currency used in South Africa for those few ignorant ones out there), we started our hunt for a homely castle. During this extended battle, I often felt like a courageous knight wielding a powerful sword of economy. From the first castle we visited, I was impressed. Often, I had to slap myself in the face to determine if this was all not only the continuation of my dream. With red cheeks, I quickly came to the conclusion that it was reality, that in Europe all people live a real life, but in a constant state of dreaming.

As proof of our castle hunting, but also for your viewing pleasure, I am now including some photos. Please note, though, that the following pictures represent a small sample of the multitude of castles we visited. Unfortunately, there is simply just not enough space on this page to include everything we were shown by the estate agents. In any case, it will leave you something to look at if, and hopefully when, you visit France yourself one day.

I must also add that every visit was equally wonderful and confusing. We saw so many impressive places that it actually started burdening us with indecision. I remember, after only a short while, how often I began to ask myself the question: ‘How will we be able to only choose one castle?’ I was beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t buy at least two – one for summer and the other for winter. Then again, if one bought two, you could just as well buy four – a castle per season. Was that a practical idea? Or, should one make peace with the fact that you would be the owner of only two French castles?

But first, look at the photos and try to understand the dilemma we faced. I will number them for clarity.

Number 1 was a fairly pleasant house, but not much more than that. There was just one problem: it was a bit small. You must remember that I am from South Africa and I had to prove something to these French folks. I had to show them that us Africans also have taste and, of course, money. I knew, instinctively, that I had to make an impression on my neighbours from the first day. We all know that the only thing that counts in life is the first impression. If mine wasn’t strong or impressive enough I was convinced that all of us (including my poor French wife) would be discriminated against as ‘those foreigners’, or even worse: ‘those backward Africans.’ Look at the photo. You can do nothing but agree with me that we would have been a bit cramped in this little house.

After our visit to this hovel, and especially following my outburst, during which I used both the French swear words I know, as well as the rest of the other approximately twenty words of French I have mastered, the estate agent understood much better what we were looking for. That’s when he suddenly started showing us the more impressive, real castles. Luckily, I knew before our arrival in France that the local agents always attempt to sell the cheaper places to unwary foreigners first. I was determined not to fall for this trick in my quest of keeping up with the Joneses.

The next one, number 2, I loved very much. It was impressive in a classical, medieval way. There was just one problem: noisy neighbours. If it wasn’t for that one detrimental factor, I would have bought it immediately. In fact, I already stood with my cheque book in my hands and was about to ask the estate agent to borrow his pen when the neighbours started playing loud French music. The music, combined with raucous laughter, made me run to the window of the main bedroom immediately. It was unacceptable. In South Africa we had neighbours with noisy dogs. I was unwilling to be subjected to similar torture in France.

Castle number 3 was, and still is, one of my favourites. It had a lovely garden. Especially the extensive lawn instantly caught my eye. Looking down at it from the tower, it reminded me of a sea of green. There was enough space for the children to play frisbee, kick ball, fly their kites and run around. We would also be able to picnic there. I already imagined the garden parties we were going to host. Ample parking for guests was also not going to be a problem.

Castle number 4 was perfect. It was extremely spacious, well lit for such an old building, and there were more than enough rooms for friends to stay over while doing the ‘European thing.’ I already pictured myself living there, saw how I patiently waited for one of the servants to light a fire in the enormous fireplace in winter, when I heard a strange sound. At once, I was transported back to the wilds of Africa. You can imagine my surprise when I heard a lion roaring again only seconds later. Only then, the agent informed us that the castle was built close to a zoo. Alas, I couldn’t visualize us living in all that space when so many animals lived in cages only meters away. One night, I even attempted freeing the animals, but the French Police frowned upon that incident.

Castles number 5, 6 and 7 had charm and good views, but all three of them needed quite a lot of renovations to be finished before one could move in. I was unwilling to struggle with builders, plumbers and electricians in the South of France, fully aware of their reputation of being unreliable and, apparently, lazy. We decided against buying any one of these places. Look at the photos and you will agree that completing work of such a scale would have taken months.

The next castle we visited, number 8, was the most secure of the lot. At least that’s what I thought at the beginning. In fact, it was still surrounded by a 30-foot high wall and had many access gates that could be closed at night. The problem there was the street children. At every entrance, hundreds of them waited. One could have overlooked this if only their begging was of a gentle nature. On the contrary, they were quite aggressive and very demanding. If you look at these two on the photo, you can see they are vicious. I even wondered if some of them were not trained to scale the walls and steal from us at night.

The last two castles I’m showing you, number 9 and 10, once again had ample parking and enough room to even accommodate the South African president and his whole extended family while on a state visit to France. Number 9 needed some paint, but otherwise it was ready for occupation. Number 10 was situated next to a monastery and although the bells might have woken one up at least once an hour, there is a certain charm to that sound.

By now, I know that all of you are eagerly waiting to learn how, in the end, we were able to decide on only one (or two) castles to buy. This is the moment when I might disappoint some of you. It’s time for a reality check. I am the bearer of bad news. The fantasy is over! No more daydreaming and definitely not another moment of thumb sucking. Let’s return to the harshness of truth.

Firstly, despite the fact that there are some very wealthy Europeans, the majority of the population is not in any way rich. Most people just get by and many people struggle financially. Thus, secondly, literally only a handful of people can afford to live in a castle. The other castles one can only visit after paying an entrance fee. For extravagant folks (with big bank accounts-but not big enough for buying a castle of their own) there is the option of staying in a castle for a few days similar to other people finding accommodation in a hotel.

I hope you will excuse me for disillusioning you. However, you can’t deny that you also enjoyed my fantasy of living in a castle. I have to inform you that we don’t live in a castle and that the only ones we can afford to visit are the ones (usually ruins) that are free to enter – the others are too expensive. No, we live in a house without any servants.

We rent the house we currently stay in. Recently we started looking for a house to buy, but have noticed that few houses are cheap in France. We are now considering buying a caravan and parking it somewhere under a tree close to a stream. No, only joking. I believe we will eventually find a house to call home.

In closure, I can tell you that even renting the house we stay in now was not an easy affair. One has to earn three times the salary of the rent amount in order to qualify for renting it. If, for example, the rent is a 1000 Euro’s per month, one has to earn 3000 Euro’s. Any foreign money or investments are also not taken into consideration. Then, one’s application to rent must be approved by an Insurance Agency. This is done to protect the owner of the house in case the tenant stops paying rent. In our case, we were not credible enough to qualify for renting a house through the Estate and Insurance Agencies. We had to do it privately and even then, we still had to have two guarantors. So, living in a castle might remain a dream for quite some time to come. However, what would life be without dreams?

Cheers for now,
Yours sincerely,
André