Like for the station, our first port of call after seeing the school has been my dad. Papa is this über DIY guy to whom constructing a central staircase over three floors is no challenge and who only has to think about a skill or craft (upholstery, marquetry, car mechanics, carpentry, whatever...) to annoyingly master it. Seriously.
So we asked him if he would mind going to see the school before we signed the binding primary contract. We had made an offer and it had been accepted, all we needed now was the assurance that what we were buying was worth every penny and wasn't about to crash down.
It was relief to hear a few days later that, although he had repeatedly called the French-speaking estate agent a useless crook to her face, my dad was happy with the building and the price we offered to pay for it. He then went a few steps further and shortlisted local maîtres d'œuvre (project managers), interviewed them and checked references. He then decided on one and made an appointment.
Our offer was accepted and the date for the completion, the signing of the acte de vente, was set. We had an architect to supervise and organise the renovation. In few weeks the school would be ours and our adventure would begin.
No comments:
Post a Comment