Here we are in France

Go figure. Last year we were here, we looked around, discovered that the real estate we'd like to live in is remarkable, ridiculously expensive, and left. We ultimately concluded that the with double-whammy of the lowest dollar-euro rate in history and the highest-priced property market in history, it'd be best to wait a while.

So why are we back?

I suppose it's because, despite the financial drawbacks of the moment, we didn't want to live in either of our homes countries just at the moment. We want something a little -- a little -- exotic, somewhere that's neither here nor there, and somewhere where Kepler can learn another language at this critical language-learning time of his life. A second native toungue is a gift indeed.

And we're hoping that, rather than buying a gorgeous place pret-a-habiter, we can find a dirt cheap barn somewhere and rehab it ourselves. Apparently there are still some bargains out there, if you're willing to do some work. Let's see, shall we?

We've chosen the town of Lodeve as our focal starting point, partially because the landscape surrounding it is so gorgeous, but also because we have a contact there, who we met last year during our prior search. Her name is "S", she's British, and with her husband runs a B&B in Lodeve. "S" also works at a local real estate agent's office, which means she can show us properties, and she runs her own side-business managing other people's holiday homes while they're away. Maintenance, etc. Which means she has places for us to live while we search. Sounds like a go to me.

So last night we landed in Montpellier, only to find that the handle had been ripped off our stroller by the warm and gentle people at baggage-handling incorporated. It was only an hour flight, and I can't image what stress must have been placed on the handle to make it just snap off like this, but whatever... I'm filing a complaint, of course, but in the meantime, our first job of the day is to get ourselves another stroller.

Welcome to France.