This has been my first visit since June 2019, before Mum’s cancer returned and finally overcame her. I have not experienced grief and sadness like this even at her death last March, and since the ending of my marriage.
The house has had 2 short visits last year, and now this September, but everything is more or less as she left it, down to the beach equipment, the crockery she assembled, her larder cupboard, the bathrooms she had done and equipped for everyone to use and so it goes on with every room. Mum you’re so missing from your special place, your achievements here, the home from home you created, just you, so far away in this beautiful part of France.
It is day two now, and despite trying to get the endorphins going with an online exercise session!, the sadness is continuing at the moment. I think I will stay here though as planned for the next 3-4 days to live with the grief, because in a way I feel it’s overdue and it is revealing, I feel, all that she meant to me subconsciously. It remains to be seen whether I will able to take joy from this place again like she would no doubt want.
The story of her ownership of this house began after she had unexpectedly lost her husband, George, was concerned about her savings as the values fell significantly at a point in 2002, and an old friend who lived in this village happened to be selling the property, Laborie, within Mum’s available funds.
Against all our (I and siblings) advice, she had made her decision and purchase it she did. There followed many years of journeys out here at the age of 62, on her own, first with Ryannair from Blackpool or Liverpool to Nimes, then Nimes airport to Nimes train station, then a train to Ales, then the local train to St Ambroix, then a taxi or perhaps pick up from her friend for the last 7km journey upto Courry. Bringing stuff out like bedding/towels in her suitcase. Ryannair stopped flying from up north to Nimes, so she flew from Luton, the train line from Ales to St Ambroix was replaced by a bus, she eventually bought her friend’s little car and parked it at Nimes airport, where each time she arrived, she had to get the car park attendants to jump lead it!
Over time she removed all the wallpaper and replaced it with white paint, she installed 3 bathrooms, via her commissioning of the local French trades of course – imagine that with ‘O’ level French – one of them replacing the little room housing an internal septic tank when mains drainage came to town. For a few years it seemed like every time you arrived, you never knew if there would be a leak from the old macerator toilet or its piping, or the original salle d’eau upstairs. That does raise a smile.
It’s as if this house embodies so many of her attributes – she was indefatiguable, determined, capable, undeterred, positive, strong, and then welcoming, hospitable, wanting us all to share in it all with her. And for the last 10 years she was able to share it with her partner Jack, who engaged with it lock, stock and barrel, and she loved and was proud of it even more. See photos of the inside at post from 2 years ago: https://lifeinnewlanes.com/french-durrells-house-via-brief-stop-at-montpellier/
My family had lovely times here with her and their messages from one particular stay – got to be approx 12 years ago – Mum had put on the wall in the living room:
