It has been very hot in the Pyrénées Atlantiques recently. Last week it topped 40 degrees with 95% humidity. If you want an idea of what that is like, put some very wet towels into your tumble dryer, turn on maximum, wait ten minutes and then poke your head inside. I defy you not to start dripping immediately. These temperatures are ‘exceptionel’ – normally August can be expected to hover in the low 30’s, an ideal temperature for toasting evenly all over and relaxing. The 40’s however are ‘excessif’ and people have either been escaping to the sea or the mountains. The transport-less have been hiding in their stone houses with the shutters firmly closed.
Being an estate agent, I was out and about. The Brits are back in force thanks to the nonstop rain back home and the favourable euro: pound exchange rate. For the first time since 2007 there are people looking for holiday homes. I had three English couples over the last few weeks. They were alarmingly white and scantily clothed. They didn’t wear hats. They didn’t drink much water. When the sun is cracking the flags, you need to cover up and drink at least a half a litre of water an hour.
The latest couple were from the North and nervously excited to be on the verge of buying in France. We kicked off with a town house in Orthez. 1930’s and with a swimming pool. The house has a forbidding grey render façade which I quickly whizzed them past – this house is one that looks better on the inside than the outside. The owner was away on holiday and the house smelled musty. The swimming pool was full of green weed. The clients were not impressed and I made a note to tell the owner he needs to make a bigger effort if he wants to sell.
We then went to a house 6 kms away in Sauveterre direction. Owned by an English couple, my clients loved it – the exposed stone walls, the beams, the fireplaces and the cool interior. They decided it was too far out of town and we carried onto Sauveterre where we saw an interesting property which has just come onto the market. There is a large 19th century house on a plot of 2 acres with a separate bungalow. The owners are willing to split the property for a quick sale. I had trouble finding this property in the warren of tiny roads and we had to follow an obliging post lady to their door.
We were approaching midday and the sky was washed clear of colour. We emerged from the air conditioning of my lovely Qashkai into a blast of sticky heat. The owners gave us water and sympathy and we were there an hour. The house has thick stone walls and was blissfully cool. Dogs panted on the stone flagged floors and a beautiful blue and brown eyed lurcher followed us around. We retreated to the conservatory and took in the garden. The Pyrenees were a pale purple haze on the horizon and the grass shimmered and waved in a green mirage. I told them the price and they were commented that they could not believe how much property you could get for your money over in France, compared to UK prices.
We dropped down to the Gave d’Oloron at Sauveterre and went for lunch at the Fil de l’eau, a tea and snack place which is open in the summer and is held on the lawns of a beautiful Béarnaise cottage owned by Sally and Mike Johnson. Children jumped in and out of the water and played badminton. Spanish, Irish, French and English voices mingled. The tables with their brightly coloured canapés were nearly all taken. Sally was in charge of sandwiches and rustled us up a delicious filled baguette with salad and coleslaw. We downed some very welcome soda and water and talked through what we had seen.
Refreshed, we then went back to Orthez where I channelled my inner Kirstie and showed them a ‘mystery house’. It has been my experience, after eight years in the job, that people often buy something which is completely different from their original criteria. People come to buy renovations and end up buying brand new. People who come to buy in the countryside are seduced by the convenience and attractions of a town centre apartment with large terrace and all the entertainments on foot. I wanted to show a property which was ideal for a holiday home and would rent out easily, a property with no work to do and one that was out of the ordinary.
We went to a village just outside of Orthez and down a little lane. A cool stream borders the 18th century cottage which we were going to see. There is a terrace and workshop and the kitchen patio doors open out onto a balcony overlooking the water. There is a kitchen/diner and living room and three bedrooms. As an extra, there is a patch of garden and a garage, though it is on the other side of the neighbour’s house. It is a snip at 149000 euros and well under their budget.
My clients were seduced however by the house in Sauveterre and rejected the mystery choice. My inner Kirstie was smirking and I told her to shut up. They went back to their B and B to have a think about what they had seen and I went to the pool in Salies de Bearn.
Salies de Bearn is a medieval town with winding cobbled streets, a thermal baths, golf, casino and lots of lovely little boutiques. It is bisected by the Saleys river which is overlooked by leaning 16th and 17th century houses on stilts. The weekly market had just finished and the street cleaners were busy whizzing around and cleaning up. The thermal baths is great in winter when you need a blast of salty heat. What I needed right then was something cool and chlorinated. The open air public baths is open between June and October and this is where I headed. There is a large camp site just next door and the baby bassin was full of golden haired Dutch children. I noted, with relief, that the aggressive cannonballing dwarf was having a day off. The deep end of the pool has diving boards and a crocodile of tawny backed children was lined up, ready to launch themselves in a series of limb crushing manoeuvres into the water. I put on my tinted goggles and started a lazy crawl up and down. Bubbles of air sparkled like fire flies as bodies shot into the water. Someone was pretending to be dead on the floor. A very large lady in a spotty black petticoat swimsuit was peddling across the shallow end in a nearly upright position. I swam with my head under water, following the black line of tiles across the floor. It was blissful and quiet with just the gurgling of the filtration system and the occasional squeaking from the metal ladders.
It didn’t last long, as Fanny put in an appearance. Fanny (not her real name) is of medium height, with a robust physique, tightly curled black hair and a Joan of Arc look in her eye. She is around 60 years of age and we have never seen her anywhere other than the pool. My kids think she spends the rest of the year in an institution… Her normal modus operandi is to stand at the side of the pool and engage the unwary in conversation. Being English is useful as she supposes that we don’t understand her. She talks to herself non stop and periodically berates the lifeguards for letting children into the pool.
I surfaced to find her facing me at the shallow end. She was crouched as if about to start a race and was hissing encouragement to herself through her teeth. ‘Ca tape forte – courage’ she urged and launched herself tumultuously into the water. She disappeared and I dipped my head under to see what was happening. Fanny was scooting along the bottom, hands running along the tiles and legs see-sawing back and to. I recommenced my swim and focused on reaching the other end in less than 30 strokes. The lifeguards were chatting amongst themselves and didn’t seem to have noticed that Fanny had disappeared.
A few seconds later, Fanny shot out of the water in a surprisingly realistic impression of a breeching whale. Arms extended and wearing a terrible grimace, she shrieked before plunging back under. Her feet appeared briefly. Nearly everyone was taken by surprise. She did the breaching butterfly stroke twice across the pool and then paused, out of breath, and went back to her normal breaststroke.
‘C’est elle qui fait l’animation!’ laughed the lifeguards and went back to chewing gum and chatting up the tourists.
If you want to enjoy Salies pool and see lovely houses, or even spot Fanny in action, pop over to www.landes-pyreneesproperties.com or give me a call on 0033559381991
The week kicked off with a phone call from a former client. A client who had seen every house in her budget range in the local area; and was still renting. My heart sank - please God, she didn't want to start looking again. Fortunately not, her sister wanted to sell her holiday home, which she had bought two years ago, refurbished and then gone back to Tokyo, never to return. We met up and she took me around. All of the furniture was covered in white sheeting. Shades of Miss Haversham... My client told me how much her sister had paid for the house and I was stunned into almost silence - a loss of E80 000 was easily achievable over today's property prices. I promised to do an Analyse Comparative du Marche and we had a very jolly lunch.
Back at the office, the atmosphere was much more detendue because the agent who had been causing all the trouble last week had gone on holiday. I got back the sales contact which he had attemped to nick in my absence, and went around to estimate the value of the two appartement buildings. They are both in Rue St Gilles in the centre of Orthez, a long narrow street with three storey 19th century immeubles. I had three bunches of keys; a total of about 35 together. It took me 10 minutes just to get through the front door. I emerged into a gloomy corridor which opened out onto a courtyard with steps. None of the keys worked in any of the doors and at the top of the steps, the gate was closed with a bike lock. I went back to trying the doors. One opened very slowly and a bleary-eyed woman emerged. We were both very surprised... She and her family rent the ground floor and had no idea that the block was to be sold. Ooops... Her husband showed me how to get to the top flat without having to climb over the gate. I went back to trying the keys and was just in the process of heaving up the metal shutter on the patio doors when two ladies turned up. Fortunately they were the two former renters and let me in.
At the end of two hours, I had measured up and taken all the pics. There were two appartements, garden and garage and the owner very kindly gave us an exclusive contract! Job done and I have a lovely young couple coming over next week who it would suit to a tee.
Two young men came in mid week, looking for a studio or loft to renovate. We set off in their car and they drove so fast that things turned into a blur - a Back to the Future experience in Orthez! I showed them a place that we have had for sale for YEARS -a rather gloomy appartement which leads onto a massive outbuilding. Unfortunately a previous owner had sold the downstairs garage (the only outside access to said massive outbuilding)to the neighbour, who is, as they say around here, a man of 'caractere' i.e. v.v. difficult. The young men loved it. I had to sit down to cope with the shock. They measured up and cooed about the potential. Watch this space... they are revisiting with an architect next week.
Friday, an FNAIM agent from Alsace brought his client over. They set off at 5 pm and arrived 5am, both looking surprisingly sprightly. We set off in my car and went to see a house in Mascacq. A neobearnaise style with loads of space. The Alsaciens thought the garden was too steep, and too big. We were chatting outside prior to leaving, and the client asked why the lady was selling. The lady's face crumpled. 'Because my son died in January'. Poor, poor lady. Our hearts went out to her.
The second house was in Sault de Navailles. The owner met us and let us in and showed us his aged mother who was installed on the sofa under a blanket. We went around the house, with his mother's frail voice following us, 'I can hear you, you know.... I told you not to play with your friends at lunchtime'. The owner is well into his 50's and he just shrugged and said that it would happen to all of us eventually. I suspect the kids or the alcohol may get to me first.
The last house was in Salies de Bearn and the client loved it to bits and made an offer, which was accepted. A good week!
Apart from... I was lurking outside the Mairie, hoping to catch a contact on his way out, when a Danish couple stopped and asked me directions to the English agency in Salies. I gave them my card and said if they didnt find anything, not to hesitate to contact me. The Agent spotted me talking to his clients and stomped over;
'Ah Janet, stealing clients again' he said grumpily and then disappeared with his clients. I have, just occasionally, been accused of being pushy. I think I am competitive. All the same, it would be interesting to see if those clients do get back to me. They did look terribly, terribly, well off.....