I feel a bit worse for wear today, since last night we celebrated finalising the contract on our new home in France. Having seen the place online, Jen flew to Geneva the very next day and immediately agreed to get the ball rolling. It’s a lovely place and we’ve pored over pictures of it, dreaming of what life will be like there.
Such dreams are very welcome because right now we spend our days immersed in a thousand logistical problems, with stress levels rising and deadlines looming. Sometimes we have a heavy heart because we are leaving people and places behind for a little while, at least. But that’s for another post. We’ll move to this place after a few weeks in Geneva.
Our one reservation was its location. We have heard that thousands commute from France to Geneva daily, but was the town – Chable, in the Haute Savoie department, the French Alps region – close enough, with good transport links? The drive from the airport to the house convinced Jen it was. It takes about 10-15 mins to get there, and luckily bypasses Geneva central and the (in)famous snarl up over the Pont Mont Blanc. You can get a bus, too, right from the town to Geneva central.
My ‘office’ has a great view, over to Mont Saleve (below) – and some natural light from the window above. Seems a really great space to get creative/doze in.
The front room has a long main window looking out onto trees and fields. Lots of light fills the room and air, too, since there are French windows at the back of the room. It doesn’t feel strange that I’ve yet to visit where I will live – listening to Jen and viewing the photos mean that I’ve got a feel for the place, however remote.
The best seat in the house is the third-floor loo. From there you can see the snow-covered mountains in all their glory. Nearby is the capital of Haute-Savoie department, the city of Annecy, which I’m told is a good place to visit, and Lyon is the major city. There’s some good walking on our doorstep, so we’re lucky there.
So, all this is a huge relief for us. Now when we arrive in Geneva we do not need to frantically find a place to live but – and it seems dangerous to mention it, as if it might put the mockers on it – we can even relax and find our feet. There’s a jazz festival we can go to; do some walking perhaps; explore the cafes in the new city before we move to France. A man has to dream, no?