‘What?’ We hear (some of) you cry: ‘What? We thought you were going to France?!’ 

Well, we’re wavering …. and despite what may or may not have been said as we paid a last visit to 66 Beaulieu Avenue last Monday evening (Philip’s moving, too) no decision has been taken. The weak pound, French inheritance laws and changing family circumstances are all making us think it out again – ‘reviewing the situation’, so to speak.

So we gave up on kitchens and carpets and gas men and painting, packed Harry up, hooked Sally (the little red car) on and left Sunny Cumbria mid-afternoon on Friday 15th July, and after spending a satisfactory night in a lay-by near Stoke we got to Langstone Manor Caravan Park near Tavistock on Saturday afternoon just in time to get the awning up before the serious rain started:

The rainbow seen thru the awning window: 

Harry and Little Sally brace themselves for four days’ drizzle! – Just like being at home!    

In a way, we didn’t mind the weather too much, because it meant we didn’t resent the time spent looking at houses. There was one fine day – Thursday – which, unfortunately, was the busiest for viewings. We saw 15 properties in four days then another one on Friday. Outstanding were the Blacksmith’s in Paignton – a house full of quirks and character, with a roof terrace, but although there was space where Harry could have stood, the manoeuvre to get him there would have been impossible – and the last one which was a real pigsty – but beautifully converted!

We crossed the Tamar ‘land to land’ several times, usually by bridges, but once by a ferry:

Which took us to Torpoint where one of the houses had this marvellous view at the front, just over the road:

But unfortunately the house needed too much work and, again, presented an impossible manoeuvre to park Harry up.

We made our way to the coast  at Portwrinkle:

and sat and pondered the pros and cons:

before treating ourselves to an excellent evening meal at the pub in the Hamlet of St. John’s:

We left Tavistock as the weather improved (!) and returned via London, South and North, to visit Brothers and pick up a chair (as you do), returning to Garth View on Wednesday, only to find that the dental appointment I had on Thursday morning, which we had regarded as a fixed point for the end of the trip, had been cancelled – by letter! – the day after we left!!!

As we say at the top, no decision taken, but it is clear that even with the weak pound, we would get a much nicer property for the same money in France:

 but there are the other considerations, and as long as we have Harry and the ability to drive him, we can go to France and other places as often as we like and for as long as we like. Meanwhile, there’s no point in dwelling (!) on it till someone decides they want to buy Garth View!

‘What?’ We hear (some of) you cry: ‘What? We thought you were going to France?!’ 

Well, we’re wavering …. and despite what may or may not have been said as we paid a last visit to 66 Beaulieu Avenue last Monday evening (Philip’s moving, too) no decision has been taken. The weak pound, French inheritance laws and changing family circumstances are all making us think it out again – ‘reviewing the situation’, so to speak.

So we gave up on kitchens and carpets and gas men and painting, packed Harry up, hooked Sally (the little red car) on and left Sunny Cumbria mid-afternoon on Friday 15th July, and after spending a satisfactory night in a lay-by near Stoke we got to Langstone Manor Caravan Park near Tavistock on Saturday afternoon just in time to get the awning up before the serious rain started:

The rainbow seen thru the awning window: 

Harry and Little Sally brace themselves for four days’ drizzle! – Just like being at home!    

In a way, we didn’t mind the weather too much, because it meant we didn’t resent the time spent looking at houses. There was one fine day – Thursday – which, unfortunately, was the busiest for viewings. We saw 15 properties in four days then another one on Friday. Outstanding were the Blacksmith’s in Paignton – a house full of quirks and character, with a roof terrace, but although there was space where Harry could have stood, the manoeuvre to get him there would have been impossible – and the last one which was a real pigsty – but beautifully converted!

We crossed the Tamar ‘land to land’ several times, usually by bridges, but once by a ferry:

Which took us to Torpoint where one of the houses had this marvellous view at the front, just over the road:

But unfortunately the house needed too much work and, again, presented an impossible manoeuvre to park Harry up.

We made our way to the coast  at Portwrinkle:

and sat and pondered the pros and cons:

before treating ourselves to an excellent evening meal at the pub in the Hamlet of St. John’s:

We left Tavistock as the weather improved (!) and returned via London, South and North, to visit Brothers and pick up a chair (as you do), returning to Garth View on Wednesday, only to find that the dental appointment I had on Thursday morning, which we had regarded as a fixed point for the end of the trip, had been cancelled – by letter! – the day after we left!!!

As we say at the top, no decision taken, but it is clear that even with the weak pound, we would get a much nicer property for the same money in France:

 but there are the other considerations, and as long as we have Harry and the ability to drive him, we can go to France and other places as often as we like and for as long as we like. Meanwhile, there’s no point in dwelling (!) on it till someone decides they want to buy Garth View!