Five things I have learned about buying, selling, fixing-up and moving houses in France

listen up, Young Grasshopper

Over the past twenty years, I have moved homes like a snake shedding skin. For fifteen of those, the fallout of being a single mum deep in the trenches of pre and post-divorce lawfare, added to the relentless decline in writers’ pay, had me constantly scrambling to keep a roof over my and my children’s heads and pay the legal (and all the other) bills. Since 2019, when I came back to France after a few years in Ireland, with all the kids now independent, the house moves have dramatically accelerated. The little Normandy farm where I now live, bought at the end of last summer, was my fourth house in five years.

It helps that imagining new interiors in gorgeous old French houses (whether they’re mine or not) is probably my favourite thing to do, but four homes in five years was most definitely not planned. I’d hoped that the beautiful cottage on the edge of le Perche I bought in 2018 - the best I could afford as I tried (still trying!) to get closer to Paris where my children are mostly based - would be home for many years.

Beautiful edge of le Perche cottage: November 2018 - October 2022

Then came the pandemic, and when I was forced to sell it, it turned out that I was living in one of the most suddenly-desirable-to-Parisians parts of France. I paid off my mortgage and was a cash buyer of the next, much smaller village house in le Perche’s Golden Triangle. This felt fantastic! Then I went quite mad and got notions of myself as a property mogul. After a quick turnaround, let’s be honest, only a couple of notches above a Landlord Special, I flipped Perche Village house, and found myself in White Wisteria cottage, a lovely building, but in an utterly Godforsaken part of the country. They don’t call it the Diagonal of Emptiness for nothing and the part my house was in had very little going for it.

Landlord special Perche village house: October 2022- November 2023

Wisteria Cottage: October 2023- October 2024

Six months later, I had done my sums and most of the renovation needed to make the house into a comfortable summer getaway, and was again looking for something in Le Perche, ever nearer my children, with enough room to work. I was confident/deluded (French housing market crash much?) enough to go for a bridging loan until Wisteria Cottage was sold, which sped things up, but oh boy did it take its toll emotionally.

I’ll be posting about the renovation and interior design of my (long may it stay) current home, but for now, here are the five main, sometimes painful, lessons I’ve learned about buying, selling, fixing up and moving houses in France.

Finally! I hope… Little Normandy Farm: October 2024 -

1: Three agents max

Property transactions are heavily regulated and safe procedures in France, but do select your estate agents wisely. More than three different listings looks suspicious, two is probably ideal. For characterful properties there are three very distinct groups of clientèle, local French, overseas/outside France non-French, and Parisians. Each agency will have differing affinities with those groups, some specializing in one of them.

Don’t necessarily sign their legally binding contracts (mandats) on the first visit. Always follow your instinct and if the agent seems unprofessional, rude, offhand, or all three - which many are - do not sign. Most of all, they must like, or at least pretend to like, your home. It is soul-destroying to have a sniffy agent who only sees a lack of, say, double glazing, and behaves as if he or she is doing you a massive favour by listing your house.

2: Avoid selling and showing privately.

I had been used to very quick sales in Le Perche, a dynamic market, and for a brief period of premature desperation last summer, I put Wisteria Cottage on PAP – Particulier à Particulier - a direct sales website, and enjoyed the visits and re-visits of France’s creepiest individuals and couples. One couple viewed three times, spending over an hour each time, filming, prodding and poking. Only to finally explain in excruciating detail (over coffee and cake I’d made, for God’s sake) all the work they would like to do and why they were therefore NOT making an offer. I realized afterwards that they probably thought I would drop the price by the cost of the work they had so carefully calculated. Instead I had immediately whisked away their plates and cups and said, “right, time to go then!” through gritted teeth.

Early in the selling the little Perche village house, friends of friends were so insistent that they would definitely buy it, that I gave in to their pleas for a Sunday morning visit, sans agent, again with cake and drinks I’d made specially. They stayed for over an hour. The husband put his foot through the ceiling when looking in the attic, didn’t apologize and subsequently blamed me. Naturally there was no compensation forthcoming from these rude, entitled people, and no agent’s insurance as he wasn’t present. These were also the clever clogs who then told other mutual friends there were holes in my roof, when in fact it was simply the light coming through the chatières, or ventilation ducts.

No, you must let your agents do their job. Do not stay in the property when they show it. It’s awkward, you will say too much, or the wrong thing, and potential buyers need to be able to fall in love and imagine themselves in the space. It’s bad enough all your stuff being there without you lurking too.

Before viewings start, define how and when the feedback will come and in what detail, and then brace yourself. Last summer, it became so disheartening to read or hear everything supposedly wrong with my beloved house from one agent, that I instructed her to simply text “yes” for a further viewing or “no” for none.

I say all this, but I ended up selling Wisteria House having shown and negotiated it directly with the buyer, who was sent by an excellent agent in Normandy. But only after extensive FaceTime visits and thorough provision of all structual/legal information. She is also an architect, so the conversation had a head start!

3: When pricing, trust your agents.

It’s tricky, but unless you are not bothered by having your house sit unsold for a year or more, ask the agents for their estimate of the market value of your house and trust them, be it more or less than you thought. Try to make sure the advertised price is the same across listings even if commissions differ. Some agents take more than others but they are always negotiable to some extent.

4: Renovation.

I love the Instagram 10 x speed time lapse video accounts that make every project seem so easy. (A couple of favourites here and here.) But I know myself. I’m chronically ham-fisted, with dramatically low core strength (like hilarious Claudia Winkleman) and as much as I love gardening, and, obviously, cooking, I find home DIY depressingly slow and tedious. So apart from painting, cleaning etc. I mostly order out, and there is no getting away from it, in France, the best workmen will not be available for months. In le Perche, the good ones are booked for over a year.

Because of this, for major items – electricity, heating/plumbing, structural work - it is worthwhile asking agency and vendors for access to your future house for a site visit or two with renovation companies as soon as you have signed the Promesse de Vente, three months or so before you are solemnly handed the keys chez le notaire.

When, like me, you are always in a hurry and on a tiny budget, Allo-Voisins is a really good option, but always make sure you tick the “professional” box and only see outfits with lots of good reviews. Even so, these are shark-infested waters. Be careful.

5: Don’t scrimp on removal company fees.

Even if you think you can’t possibly afford it, please, just pay the price. I’m still dealing with the trauma of my “cheap” move from a 4^Th floor apartment in Paris 7ème with a broken lift and two removal men stuck in it for four hours, to one in Saint Germain en Laye, in a building which was part of the castle’s protected grounds, with the park closing for the night before the lorry finally arrived.

This time, from Wisteria Cottage to Normandy Farm, again, I stupidly reverted to a cheaper option. I’ll spare you the gory details, but it was hell, and I have finally learned my lesson for good.

If Bayrou squeezes his budget through French parliament over the next few weeks, and the sustainable energy renovation subsidies are re-confirmed and voted in, I won’t be moving again for a long, long time. But that’s another story. Bon weekend! Tx