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Travel Groups Forum Index » Europe » Sun Times: The hidden expense of buying property in France
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| sufaud |
 Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 10:59 am |
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From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
The hidden expense of buying property in France
It was meant to be an idyllic holiday retreat, but the expense and
stress of maintaining a farmhouse near Bordeaux was unsustainable
There’s no way to put this that won’t seem vaguely irritating: we had
a bit of extra money floating about. To be coy it was less than
£250,000, which doesn’t go far in London, but it was enough to buy a
surprisingly large farmhouse in rural France.
Lots of other people were doing it. In that year -- 2003 -- in our
street alone, there were two other families in the process of buying
French holiday homes. Like them, we were convinced that it wasn’t
simply a sensible but a joyous investment; it could pay for itself if
we let it out to tenants while we weren’t there, and guaranteed us
relatively inexpensive holidays for ever after. We bought the third
property we looked at.
It seemed ideal. Twenty minutes’ drive from the beach, and halfway
between the lovely cities of La Rochelle and Bordeaux, the old stone
house had been renovated by the previous owners, who also happened to
be British. After five years spent trying to live the French idyll,
they were, um, returning home. Of course, my husband and I didn’t
think anything of it at the time. In any case they must have spent a
fortune on it, poor things. The place was in perfect nick. All it
needed was some well-chosen furnishings (what fun) and a swimming pool
(an easily justifiable expensive expense).
We envisaged spending long and languorous summers out there, lazing in
the sun with our amusing friends. We planned to spend Christmases
there too, and half terms, and in the early days we even imagined
nipping out for occasional weekends. It was going to be a private
paradise: a perfect contrast to our frenetic London lives and an ideal
place for the children to build campfires and learn French and so on.
I remember the day reality began to nibble at the edges of our
fantasy. It was August, about four months after we had bought the
wretched place and about two weeks into our first holiday in situ.
France was in the throes of a terrific heat wave. The six-bedroom
house was indeed filled with our friends, the cellar was filled with
amazingly cheap wine and the air was filled with the merry sounds of
innumerable children frolicking in the crystal-clear waters of our
newly installed swimming pool. Not only that, we had some bona fide
French neighbours dropping in for drinkipoos later on.
Everything was exactly as I had envisaged it. And yet. It was
approaching five o’clock already. I had not quite finished clearing up
lunch for 14 people, which itself had merged pretty much seamlessly
with breakfast. First-shift supper, for the children, loomed
imminently, followed by dinner for the adults, and the fridge, so
recently stocked with at least €400 worth of food, was looking
depressingly empty. I was gazing at it, searching hopefully for
something to feed the horde, while simultaneously listening to my
husband, Peter, on the telephone, trying to explain to the plumber
that the downstairs lavatory was emitting a “mal et horrible, er...
Daisy! What’s the French for stink?”. He looked exhausted. I was
exhausted. Possibilities for languor seemed distant.
When we invested in the dream, neither of us had taken into account
quite what a preposterous amount of time, money and effort would have
to be dispensed in the facilitating of it, and how little time we, the
owners of said dream, would get to sit back and truly enjoy it. The
most obvious problem, or so it seemed in those innocent early days,
was the endless catering required when having friends to stay.
Holidaymakers eat a lot, especially when they’ve come on a short break
to France, where food is meant to be the highlight.
Anyway, on that afternoon, that sad afternoon when the light began to
dawn, I was listening to my husband yelling valiantly into the
telephone: “Et aussi, monsieur, je pense il y a un leak au dessous le,
er, er, washing machine...” One of our guests wandered in from the
pool -- slop, slop, slop -- dripping water all over the floor, looking
infuriatingly relaxed. He asked what was for dinner. When I told him,
he looked quite crestfallen. “Don’t want to be a nuisance, but, you
know, last night in France and all that. I don’t suppose you’ve got
anything else?”
I didn’t. And it was a Monday, which meant, this being rural France,
that almost all the shops were shut. Getting my guest “something else”
for his last supper would involve a half-hour drive across country to
the hypermarché, which temple of hell it was proving impossible to
escape without spending several hours and at least €500. On the other
hand, I had another long shopping list of essential things to buy for
the house, and the fridge was looking empty.
It was while I was in the hypermarché, piling my trolley full of
essentials -- a garden scythe, a hosepipe attachment, protective
varnish for the shutters, a tub of swimming-pool chlorine, a plastic
container to hold petrol for the lawn mower, which was broken, a new
vacuum cleaner, plastic glasses for the pool, duck breasts and foie
gras for a suitable last supper -- that I began to wonder at the
wisdom of our joyous investment. This endless round of unaffordable
shopping trips, cooking chores and conversations about broken loos, I
wondered, were they teething problems? Or were they, perhaps, the true
nature of the beast?
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead. I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French. Nor the
extent of the impossible demands made by our hard-to-acquire tenants.
We had yet to learn of the havoc that can be wreaked by an owl (which
I think must have died of diarrhoea) when it is trapped inside an
empty open-plan house all winter. Nor could we begin to comprehend,
until it happened, the difficulties involved in getting rid of a
hornets’ nest or reporting a robbery from abroad.
Back in London, the subject became so stressful, we tried to pretend
that the house didn’t exist. But there was always some sort of a
problem to be dealt with; always a bill that needed to be paid.
We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
As the years rolled by, more things in the house began to break. A
leak developed somewhere in the water supply; impossible to discover
where, but we started getting water bills for thousands of euros. We
would have liked to switch the water off while we were away, but if we
did that, it would have done something terrible to the swimming pool,
so we did nothing and the water bills continued to rise.
Then something apparently insoluble went wrong with the electrics. It
meant the system tripped inexplicably, sometimes three or four times a
day. Which meant the swimming pool’s pump tripped as soon as we went
away, which meant, although we kept the water on, the pool seized up
anyway.
We finally found a local couple who agreed to keep an eye on the place
while we away. They were meant to drop in once a fortnight to check
everything was okay. They were also, for an added fee, meant to
prepare the house for those rare occasions when tenants arrived. In
the two years they worked for us, their monthly bills increased until
-- on top of the annual €5,000 or so we were paying in taxes, and God
only knows how much on tenant-friendly duvet covers and plumber,
electrician and pool-man callouts-- we were paying the housekeepers
€300 a month if there were no tenants. Yet still the house continued
to fall apart.
Two years ago, the pool seized up for the second time. We had to buy a
new pump and a new lining. Just a few months previously, the house had
been broken into and robbed. In the same week, we learnt that the
French government had exercised its right to seize funds from our bank
account: due to bureaucratic cockup, the correct taxes had not been
received, so they helped themselves. The consequent flurry of
incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
We put it on the market, where it languished for a year and a half,
along with so many other English-owned holiday homes, until out of the
blue, about six months ago, someone from Belgium put in a bid. Despite
plummeting prices, we sold at a 10% profit; but that was only thanks
to the exchange rate.
We had some wonderful times there, of course we did. The children
loved it. And in principle, it is always sad to give up on a dream.
But we were ecstatic to let that one go. Much better to live someone
else’s dream and rent.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/eating_out/a_a_gill/article6716021.ece |
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| didier Meurgues |
| Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 9:05 pm |
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Guest
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On 19 juil, 12:59, sufaud <suf...@hotmail.com> wrote:
Quote: From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead. I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French.
Yes, she apparently only thought :+)
Quote: We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
They were apparently desperatly... asking her to pay her "taxe
d'habitation" as every landlord in France has to do.
And remind her that electricity, water or a house insurance are not
delivered for free in France and that you need to ask the mayor an
authorisation to build a swimming pool of a certain size. At least it
seems that she didn't had to deal with much more :+)
Quote: As the years rolled by, more things in the house began to break. A
leak developed somewhere in the water supply; impossible to discover
where,
Why, the land's size was 30 hectares ?
but we started getting water bills for thousands of euros. We
Quote: would have liked to switch the water off while we were away, but if we
did that, it would have done something terrible to the swimming pool,
so we did nothing and the water bills continued to rise.
Gulp ! It would have turned green with these nasty little algas. Why
not cut the water and clean the pool when coming back ?
Quote: Then something apparently insoluble went wrong with the electrics. It
meant the system tripped inexplicably, sometimes three or four times a
day. Which meant the swimming pool’s pump tripped as soon as we went
away, which meant, although we kept the water on, the pool seized up
anyway.
Did the former english landlord installed UK electric supplies
(sometimes incompatible with french ones) or was the pool pump too
powerfull for the voltage capacity ?
Quote: -- on top of the annual €5,000 or so we were paying in taxes,
My god, not 30 hectares, but at least 500 !
Quote: Two years ago, the pool seized up for the second time. We had to buy a
new pump and a new lining. Just a few months previously, the house had
been broken into and robbed. In the same week, we learnt that the
French government had exercised its right to seize funds from our bank
account: due to bureaucratic cockup, the correct taxes had not been
received, so they helped themselves.
The proof of her negligence (in that and the rest) appears here in all
its splendor :
According to art. L. 255 (or 257) of Livre des Procédures Fiscales and
L. 258 LPF, if you have not payed a taxe, this seize is generally (but
not always) done by a law officer called "huisser", who mandatorily
warns you before, and after a recall (? rappel, mise en demeure) sent
by the administration. They generally send 2 or 3 in a period of 6 to
10 MONTHS... in order to graciously let you find a solution or an
explanation... before launching the "poursuites" (seize). A foreign
friend of mine had such a problem when he left France without giving
his new address.
http://www.legifrance.gouv.fr/initRechCodeArticle.do
So she indeed only thought that she could speak and worst, READ
french !
Yes I know, I can't write english neither :+)
Isn't that consequently more probable that the tax office never
"received" her payment, because she didn't behaved conveniently. Of
course this can't even come to the mind of the journalist !! You know,
this is a french bureaucrat she had to deal with... Did she only send
it to the good address and above all in due time. Hope at least that
she gave her UK address instead of asking the keepers to empty the
mail box.
At least too there is an administration in France which sends you
explanations in order to HELP you. When I was victim of an assault in
London, which penal hearing was postponed, then redone because of a
procedural defect, I never received a letter of involvement in the
trial, neither a single convocation to the 3 hearings, nor the writen
decision of the judge... I received a 1st phone call and for the last
hearings none. That's myself who call them for confirmation when the
scheduled date approached... Something inconcevable in France.
Furthermore, my camera, THE piece of evidence tried to be robbed, was
finally lost several days later by... the police which didn't keep the
receipt of its delivery to my... hotel, although I had precised to
them that I was coming back home immediately... after the last
hearing ! (1)
The consequent flurry of
Quote: incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
If only she had not spent only 10 days there in 6 years (1,66 days a
year!) she would perhaps better keep her house and not tempted a
robbery.
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
(1) Reason why the Detective Constable (? DC) had even "jocked", when
I left the Court, that he would bring it in person to Paris if...
necessary ! Should I have expected it : the defendant was as well
found not guilty, despite 2 eye witnesses of the assault...
didier Meurgues |
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| Fiebre Del Sabado Noche |
| Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 9:26 pm |
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Guest
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On Jul 24, 11:05 pm, didier Meurgues <erdnisl...@voila.fr> wrote:
Quote: On 19 juil, 12:59, sufaud <suf...@hotmail.com> wrote:
From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead. I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French.
Yes, she apparently only thought :+)
We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
They were apparently desperatly... asking her to pay her "taxe
d'habitation" as every landlord in France has to do.
And remind her that electricity, water or a house insurance are not
delivered for free in France and that you need to ask the mayor an
authorisation to build a swimming pool of a certain size. At least it
seems that she didn't had to deal with much more :+)
As the years rolled by, more things in the house began to break. A
leak developed somewhere in the water supply; impossible to discover
where,
Why, the land's size was 30 hectares ?
but we started getting water bills for thousands of euros. We
would have liked to switch the water off while we were away, but if we
did that, it would have done something terrible to the swimming pool,
so we did nothing and the water bills continued to rise.
Gulp ! It would have turned green with these nasty little algas. Why
not cut the water and clean the pool when coming back ?
Then something apparently insoluble went wrong with the electrics. It
meant the system tripped inexplicably, sometimes three or four times a
day. Which meant the swimming pool’s pump tripped as soon as we went
away, which meant, although we kept the water on, the pool seized up
anyway.
Did the former english landlord installed UK electric supplies
(sometimes incompatible with french ones) or was the pool pump too
powerfull for the voltage capacity ?
-- on top of the annual €5,000 or so we were paying in taxes,
My god, not 30 hectares, but at least 500 !
Two years ago, the pool seized up for the second time. We had to buy a
new pump and a new lining. Just a few months previously, the house had
been broken into and robbed. In the same week, we learnt that the
French government had exercised its right to seize funds from our bank
account: due to bureaucratic cockup, the correct taxes had not been
received, so they helped themselves.
The proof of her negligence (in that and the rest) appears here in all
its splendor :
According to art. L. 255 (or 257) of Livre des Procédures Fiscales and
L. 258 LPF, if you have not payed a taxe, this seize is generally (but
not always) done by a law officer called "huisser", who mandatorily
warns you before, and after a recall (? rappel, mise en demeure) sent
by the administration. They generally send 2 or 3 in a period of 6 to
10 MONTHS... in order to graciously let you find a solution or an
explanation... before launching the "poursuites" (seize). A foreign
friend of mine had such a problem when he left France without giving
his new address.http://www.legifrance.gouv.fr/initRechCodeArticle.do
So she indeed only thought that she could speak and worst, READ
french !
Yes I know, I can't write english neither :+)
Isn't that consequently more probable that the tax office never
"received" her payment, because she didn't behaved conveniently. Of
course this can't even come to the mind of the journalist !! You know,
this is a french bureaucrat she had to deal with... Did she only send
it to the good address and above all in due time. Hope at least that
she gave her UK address instead of asking the keepers to empty the
mail box.
At least too there is an administration in France which sends you
explanations in order to HELP you. When I was victim of an assault in
London, which penal hearing was postponed, then redone because of a
procedural defect, I never received a letter of involvement in the
trial, neither a single convocation to the 3 hearings, nor the writen
decision of the judge... I received a 1st phone call and for the last
hearings none. That's myself who call them for confirmation when the
scheduled date approached... Something inconcevable in France.
Furthermore, my camera, THE piece of evidence tried to be robbed, was
finally lost several days later by... the police which didn't keep the
receipt of its delivery to my... hotel, although I had precised to
them that I was coming back home immediately... after the last
hearing ! (1)
The consequent flurry of
incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
If only she had not spent only 10 days there in 6 years (1,66 days a
year!) she would perhaps better keep her house and not tempted a
robbery.
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
(1) Reason why the Detective Constable (? DC) had even "jocked", when
I left the Court, that he would bring it in person to Paris if...
necessary ! Should I have expected it : the defendant was as well
found not guilty, despite 2 eye witnesses of the assault...
didier Meurgues
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
Nono, the French have a privileged place in the UK media...;-)
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1201496/French-swine-flu-squad-swoops-terrified-UK-schoolchildren.html |
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| didier Meurgues |
| Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 9:07 pm |
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Guest
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On 24 juil, 23:26, Fiebre Del Sabado Noche <michaelnewp...@yahoo.com>
wrote:
Quote: On Jul 24, 11:05 pm, didier Meurgues <erdnisl...@voila.fr> wrote:
On 19 juil, 12:59, sufaud <suf...@hotmail.com> wrote:
From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead. I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French.
Yes, she apparently only thought :+)
We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
They were apparently desperatly... asking her to pay her "taxe
d'habitation" as every landlord in France has to do.
And remind her that electricity, water or a house insurance are not
delivered for free in France and that you need to ask the mayor an
authorisation to build a swimming pool of a certain size. At least it
seems that she didn't had to deal with much more :+)
As the years rolled by, more things in the house began to break. A
leak developed somewhere in the water supply; impossible to discover
where,
Why, the land's size was 30 hectares ?
but we started getting water bills for thousands of euros. We
would have liked to switch the water off while we were away, but if we
did that, it would have done something terrible to the swimming pool,
so we did nothing and the water bills continued to rise.
Gulp ! It would have turned green with these nasty little algas. Why
not cut the water and clean the pool when coming back ?
Then something apparently insoluble went wrong with the electrics. It
meant the system tripped inexplicably, sometimes three or four times a
day. Which meant the swimming pool’s pump tripped as soon as we went
away, which meant, although we kept the water on, the pool seized up
anyway.
Did the former english landlord installed UK electric supplies
(sometimes incompatible with french ones) or was the pool pump too
powerfull for the voltage capacity ?
-- on top of the annual €5,000 or so we were paying in taxes,
My god, not 30 hectares, but at least 500 !
Two years ago, the pool seized up for the second time. We had to buy a
new pump and a new lining. Just a few months previously, the house had
been broken into and robbed. In the same week, we learnt that the
French government had exercised its right to seize funds from our bank
account: due to bureaucratic cockup, the correct taxes had not been
received, so they helped themselves.
The proof of her negligence (in that and the rest) appears here in all
its splendor :
According to art. L. 255 (or 257) of Livre des Procédures Fiscales and
L. 258 LPF, if you have not payed a taxe, this seize is generally (but
not always) done by a law officer called "huisser", who mandatorily
warns you before, and after a recall (? rappel, mise en demeure) sent
by the administration. They generally send 2 or 3 in a period of 6 to
10 MONTHS... in order to graciously let you find a solution or an
explanation... before launching the "poursuites" (seize). A foreign
friend of mine had such a problem when he left France without giving
his new address.http://www.legifrance.gouv.fr/initRechCodeArticle.do
So she indeed only thought that she could speak and worst, READ
french !
Yes I know, I can't write english neither :+)
Isn't that consequently more probable that the tax office never
"received" her payment, because she didn't behaved conveniently. Of
course this can't even come to the mind of the journalist !! You know,
this is a french bureaucrat she had to deal with... Did she only send
it to the good address and above all in due time. Hope at least that
she gave her UK address instead of asking the keepers to empty the
mail box.
At least too there is an administration in France which sends you
explanations in order to HELP you. When I was victim of an assault in
London, which penal hearing was postponed, then redone because of a
procedural defect, I never received a letter of involvement in the
trial, neither a single convocation to the 3 hearings, nor the writen
decision of the judge... I received a 1st phone call and for the last
hearings none. That's myself who call them for confirmation when the
scheduled date approached... Something inconcevable in France.
Furthermore, my camera, THE piece of evidence tried to be robbed, was
finally lost several days later by... the police which didn't keep the
receipt of its delivery to my... hotel, although I had precised to
them that I was coming back home immediately... after the last
hearing ! (1)
The consequent flurry of
incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
If only she had not spent only 10 days there in 6 years (1,66 days a
year!) she would perhaps better keep her house and not tempted a
robbery.
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
(1) Reason why the Detective Constable (? DC) had even "jocked", when
I left the Court, that he would bring it in person to Paris if...
necessary ! Should I have expected it : the defendant was as well
found not guilty, despite 2 eye witnesses of the assault...
didier Meurgues
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
Nono, the French have a privileged place in the UK media...;-)
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1201496/French-swin...- Masquer le texte des messages précédents -
- Afficher le texte des messages précédents -
You have guessed that I couldn't resist to use this story to tale my
own little misadventure.
Just hope that this privilege.... doesn't insidiously influence
popular juries at Courts when a french is concerned (above all if the
defendant...) :+) :+)
I precise that my costs of transport from Paris were reimbursed the 3
times and 2/3 of my sophisticated camera + lens : the one offered by
my parents for my baccalaureate !
THE END
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| Andy Pandy |
| Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 6:01 pm |
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"didier Meurgues" <erdnisloed@voila.fr> wrote in message
news:db988d12-81a6-45ff-ad42-9bcd46208d47@k19g2000yqn.googlegroups.com...
On 19 juil, 12:59, sufaud <suf...@hotmail.com> wrote:
Quote: From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead.
Houses are expensive to service and maintain. Wherever they are. People tend
to forget how much they spend in maintaining their own house and utility
bills, insurance, taxes etc.
Quote: I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French.
Yes, she apparently only thought :+)
I find it amazing that anyone would consider buying a house in a country
where they aren't reasonably fluent in the language, or at least knows
someone reliable who is who can help them. My French is reasonable and I get
by on holiday easily enough, but there's no way I could deal with the
bureaucracy and maintenance issues which property owners inevitably need to.
Quote: We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
The consequent flurry of
incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
If only she had not spent only 10 days there in 6 years (1,66 days a
year!) she would perhaps better keep her house and not tempted a
robbery.
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
We bash other nationalities as well! Although I think the article's main
point was how stupid the author and lots of other British people with more
money than sense are, when it comes to property ownership.
--
Andy |
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| didier Meurgues |
| Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 9:34 pm |
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Guest
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On 26 juil, 19:51, "Andy Pandy" <spam8ti...@wonderful.spam.invalid>
wrote:
Quote: "didier Meurgues" <erdnisl...@voila.fr> wrote in message
news:db988d12-81a6-45ff-ad42-9bcd46208d47@k19g2000yqn.googlegroups.com...
On 19 juil, 12:59, sufaud <suf...@hotmail.com> wrote:
From The Sunday Times
July 19, 2009
They were neither. Actually, they were a gentle break-in, a mere
taster of the relentless expense and aggravation that lay ahead.
Houses are expensive to service and maintain. Wherever they are. People tend
to forget how much they spend in maintaining their own house and utility
bills, insurance, taxes etc.
I
speak French quite well -- or so I thought -- but I had yet to
discover the full horror of dealing with paperwork in French.
Yes, she apparently only thought :+)
I find it amazing that anyone would consider buying a house in a country
where they aren't reasonably fluent in the language, or at least knows
someone reliable who is who can help them. My French is reasonable and I get
by on holiday easily enough, but there's no way I could deal with the
bureaucracy and maintenance issues which property owners inevitably need to.
We squabbled a lot about whose turn it was to talk to the French
bureaucrats on the telephone. (There was an unending supply of them:
in the tax offices, the mayor’s office, at the bank, the water board,
the electricity board, the insurance office). When we weren’t
struggling to communicate with them on the telephone, we were bent
double over their wretched letters, desperately trying to understand
what they were asking us to pay for next.
The consequent flurry of
incomprehensible letters from the bank and tax office proved the last
straw. That year, what with no tenants, the tax, the broken electrics,
the housekeeping charges and everything else, we had spent about
€20,000 on the house and spent exactly 10 days inside it. Oh, and the
pool was broken. Again.
If only she had not spent only 10 days there in 6 years (1,66 days a
year!) she would perhaps better keep her house and not tempted a
robbery.
Is french bashing an expression unique in english medias or does it
exist as well for let's say the italians and hungarians ? :+) :+)
We bash other nationalities as well! Although I think the article's main
point was how stupid the author and lots of other British people with more
money than sense are, when it comes to property ownership.
--
Andy- Masquer le texte des messages précédents -
- Afficher le texte des messages précédents -
I apologise if I've disapointed you Andy, who has been always so kind
here.
I just regretted biterly this particular camera.
In my building (17 flats) we noticed during 4 years that the water
bill was increasing of 1000 € every year from about 3000 €/year
without reacting until... it bursted the 5th year to 12842.38 € !
We only then understood that it was a single water leak into the big
sewer pipe of the basement !! :+)
This time, I shut up for good ! |
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