A dilapidated, rat-infested stone barn set amidst 13 acres of overgrown woodland and unkempt pasture might not be many people's vision of a potential dream home. But for English couple Richard and his wife Al, the cavernous, oak-beamed building in a sleepy hamlet of the Limousin region of France is perfect. Tussles with French bureaucracy allied with fierce storms that wreak havoc on the property do little to dampen resolve as they immerse themselves in the calm of this quiet corner of France, taking trips in Richard's balloon and starting their very own llama farm. Their colorful, often eccentric neighbors are always ready to lend a hand: the jovial ex-Gendarme and his wife, who is able to foretell the weather; a lonely widow who offers copious amounts of gateaux in exchange for convivial chat; and a brawny cattleman with suspicious motives in offering to clean up the couple's land. This often hilarious and heartwarming tale is one of obstacles overcome and dreams fulfilled.
I'm not trying to be an old grump, but I really disliked this book from start to finish. After a while I realised what it reminded me of: those round-robin letters that people you haven't seen for years send round at Christmas, detailing their exotic holidays, delightful lifestyle, and the achievements of their amazing children. Maybe if you personally knew Richard Wiles, you would find this book interesting (I'm guessing that's the case for the rave reviewers on Amazon anyway). But I didn't. I didn't want to know about his honeymoon, his new in-laws, or his public digs at his ex-wife about access rights to his children. I didn't want to know exactly how long it took them to drive through France and what route they took, or what they did on their holidays. And so on.
Still, I am not the intended audience. I am at a loss to understand why British publishers can continue churning out this type of book, basically the same thing over and over again, and people still buy them. "We bought a ruin in France and renovated it!" Thousands of people have done that. Unless your writing talent rivals Peter Mayle's, it's not interesting. Richard Wiles is definitely no threat to Mayle. He's a professional writer entirely ignorant of basic English grammar: he writes stuff like "The stove was hauled upstairs on a sturdy barrow given to Al and I by her parents." He does this over and over again.
He's also fallen into the distressingly common trap of considering his neighbours and their behaviour quaint and rather amusing purely because they are a) peasants and b) French. I was not in the least sympathetic to his rage when he discovered, months after buying his ruin, that in France you actually need planning permission to convert an agricultural building into a residence. Who'd have thought it? What dastardly foreigners. And of course when they speak English, they get a funny accent: "I theenk eet's time for ze lunch, non?"
The few good books in this overworked genre are by people who understand that when they move to another country, they are the odd ones out, and it's up to them to adapt. Honourable mentions to Chris Stewart (Driving Over Lemons) and Patricia Atkinson (The Ripening Sun).
Quite enjoyed it until the last couple of chapters where they were some sweeping statements about the lack of community and the death of folk culture in Limousin and probably the rest of France because of TV and people getting more wealthy... What a load of bxxxxx... Being French and from that area, I did not appreciate the comments...
Lacked any real punch or inspiration. Having made the move to France myself some years ago, though not to renovate a property, I was expecting something a bit more interesting. Certainly, photos would have helped with some of the actual building work and I'm surprised that a person who writes articles for magazines appreciates the importance of pictures to demonstrate a point or technique. It would also have helped to create a degree of empathy. To go five years without installing any furniture, other than a tent, beggars belief.
This book was such a fun read in part due to the humor of the author. And I thoroughly enjoyed the creative processes involved in renovating his (and wife's) new (very old) home in France. I learned so much of the culture, the language, the priorities of the French...and I felt I was there as an invisible observer. This is the way a book should be (properly) written, drawing the reader into the life and thoughts of the author.
I cannot believe that I finished reading this, given how poorly written it is. While the author claims to be a journalist, this writing is so bland and the content is only about the unfortunate way a totally unprepared guy lives in-between UK and France, without committing to actually renovate the bloody building he plans to live in. No story line, no humour, no nothing. Literally a waste of my time reading it till the end.
A mediocre book in mediocre style. Annoying grammatical errors too - not acceptable in a book coming from a publishing house (or anywhere else really!) I live in the same region, though south of Limoges, but I do not recognize the depiction of Limousin people. They do have hearts of gold, but they are not the country bumpkins this book makes them out to be.
Funny, laughed out loud at times. Engaging local characters, makes you want to stroll through the small hamlet where Richard lives. Supposedly there are 2 others in a series, I look forward to reading the others.
I liked this book. Unfortunately towards the end it lost any semblance of plot or direction and turned into series of anecdotes and then ended abruptly.
I’ve great respect for the tasks and living conditions described in the book. Very detailed in how to build which is of interest for do-it-yourself-people. A pleasant read.
A dilapidated, rat-infested stone barn set amidst 13 acres of overgrown woodland and unkempt pasture might not be many people's vision of a potential dream home. But for English couple Richard and his wife Al, the cavernous, oak-beamed building in a sleepy hamlet of the Limousin region of France is perfect. Tussles with French bureaucracy allied with fierce storms that wreak havoc on the property do little to dampen resolve as they immerse themselves in the calm of this quiet corner of France, taking trips in Richard's balloon and starting their very own llama farm. Their colorful, often eccentric neighbors are always ready to lend a hand: the jovial ex-Gendarme and his wife, who is able to foretell the weather; a lonely widow who offers copious amounts of gateaux in exchange for convivial chat; and a brawny cattleman with suspicious motives in offering to clean up the couple's land. This often hilarious and heartwarming tale is one of obstacles overcome and dreams fulfilled.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
There were times it got dull & I considered stopping, but I kept at it & something else amusing or charming would happen. It’s not as engaging, amusing, or wittily written as Peter Mayle’s ‘A Year in Provence’, but it does have merit. I’d read it again.