The adventure begins...

Our adventure in Perigord began at the Chateau de Losse, thanks to our friend the chatelaine who loaned us the caretaker’s apartment for two glorious weeks. Our temporary abode afforded us the opportunity to begin planning the renovation of our new farm property, located about twenty kilometers north of the chateau, a full month prior to the closing on April 13.

One treat during our stay was discovering a series of country roads linking the two properties on which we transported ourselves and Arcadio on daily trips to and fro – driving in our ‘new’ silver PT Cruiser that we’ve taken to calling 'Petunia'. The rural landscape is enchanting; rolling hills dotted with working farms, deep valleys with old stone mills set astride fast-flowing streams.   

Dating from the 15^th century, the Chateau de Losse commands the north bank of the Vezere River a short distance from the pretty towns of Thonac and St. Leon de Vezere. The castle is immersed in gardens - walks, lawns, and allees, edged by hedgerows and topiary that Madame van der Schueren planted some twenty years ago. Francesco and I and Arcadio were installed in a cozy apartment on the west side of the courtyard.

With Jacqueline away on business, our job was to keep the huge wood-burning furnace alight by feeding it twice per day (and once at night) plus looking after the chateau dog, a feisty Welsh Terrier named Hercule. We also fed two stray cats that have taken up guarding the drawbridge on the far side of the moat. (Woe betide any attacking field mice who attempt to breach the defenses there.)

The chateau is completely enclosed by walls. These and the moat managed to defy even Arcadio’s canny ability (like that of any self-respecting cat) to find an escape route. Thus we safely let him roam at night, although we ferried him with us each day when Hercule was freed from his nocturnal roost in the castle kitchen - we witnessed the dog, from time to time, bearing down ferociously on the two cats outside the walls. Fortunately, they seemed always to be one step ahead of Hercule and took to the trees, leaving him barking noisily but uselessly below.  

Both Losse and our farm are located in the region of Perigord Noir, so-called for its densely forested hills and dales, and for black truffles found by trained dogs and pigs under the spreading branches of oaks. The region (also known by its modern departmental designation, Dordogne) is famed for foie gras, walnut groves producing nuts and oil, and for the raising of ducks and geese. Indeed, Perigord is the font of much of the masterful cooking that propelled France to the undisputed top-rung of world cuisine.

In an area poetically titled the ‘Land of a Thousand Chateaux’, our farm - called ‘La Placette Haute’ or ‘Little High Place’ - is a far cry from a fancy castle like Losse; merely a set of humble cottages built in Perigourdine style, the sort whose distinctive curved roofs are depicted on ‘toile de Jouy’ fabric. The fact that the property - about 35 acres of woodland - seems smothered in blooming yellow gorse and broom inspired our christening the cottages with the French equivalents: 'Les Ajoncs' and 'Les Genets'.


Thanks to its current owner (Madame Besse) we had access to the houses, even the keys, and were thus able to meet on site with the various contractors. While waiting for the appointments we were able to further explore and chart the property, taking photos and more exact measurements room-by-room, discussing (and arguing over) ideas and inspirations, getting a feel for the place. As the weather was chancy - scattered showers and a nippy chill from time to time - we made ourselves comfortable by stoking a fire in the wood stove and testing such things as the hot water heater and radiator systems.  

Overall, our research and contact mission was successful for we were able to meet with a number of potential workmen with the aim of soliciting at least three competitive bids for each major renovation category. Fortunately, Francesco’s fluency in French enabled these conversations to flow easily: for instance, with Jerome the plumber and another Jerome, an electrician; with Jean-Claude the insulation man (somewhat of a fanatic for ‘green’ technology); with Mathieu D. and Mathieu L. (the first a general contractor and the second a roofer/carpenter); with Alberto, a Portuguese mason and tile man, with Francois the gardener, and with messieurs Gouzou and de Carlo, experts on the repair of local tile roofs.

On our first visit to the property this past January we were struck by it’s arresting - albeit humbly rural – architecture, and this impression was heightened this visit by the showy array of flowering spring shrubs and flowers. The stone houses are solidly built and the roofs in better nick than we had thought – although we will still pay a handsome sum to insulate them anew, reshuffle the tiles, and replace those that are worn or broken. We were able to admire again such features as the traditional Perigourdine 'pise' floor (colored pebbles embedded to create a flower design), two 'cantou' type fireplaces big enough to seat yourself in, old stone sinks, and the stone plate warmer heated by placing live coals inside.

Between appointments we were able to tidy the yard, doing such things as weeding a small graveled terrace and old stone features like watering troughs and the well, cutting back a few overgrown vines. We also swept and mopped floors, cleaned windows, kitchen appliances and the bathroom, dusted and polished wooden cabinets and fireplace mantels, vacuumed rugs, etc., all in anticipation of returning in April to live in the place as soon as it is legally ours.

Most importantly, we were able to draw scaled floor plans for both houses and investigate such things as the present plumbing, electrical, and heating systems in order to establish a firmer budget for the renovation scheme. Budgeting is somewhat of a stab in the dark, but we now have an Excel spreadsheet with tentative figures - the same process that guided the planning and execution of our successful work at the palazzo in Todi. We are starting to gather estimates from the workmen we met in Perigord and are juggling amounts accordingly. Can we, indeed, afford our most creative plans, or shall we be forced to tweak them here and there?