In the course of five months I expected Sarkozy to be involved (From Watford Observer)

In the course of five months I expected Sarkozy to be involved

7:40am Thursday 2nd July 2009

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THE local Mayor said “No”. It was very simple and a very straightforward “no”

So our brief toying with the concept of building a log-house on The Folly, overlooking miles of countryside, came to nought.

Really, we had known there was little chance of building there as The Folly is placed on an escarpment, which is a protected area of natural beauty. We had been told that when we bought the piece of land with a garage and two stone out-houses for £2,500 back in 2002. We were advised we could increase the outbuildings by 30 per cent but, unfortunately, they are too far apart for the 30 per cent increases to enable us to join them together.

It was a nice dream and something of a project for a few months. We visited houses made of wood and those made of logs. We found them very impressive, together with the move towards geothermic heating, which is expensive to install but your electricity and heating bills are minimal thereafter.

I don’t mind admitting, we got through a few pieces of graph paper, designing the lay-out and finally we got the plans just right. But then the Mayor said “no” and that usually is the end of it.

Mayors in France are extremely grands fromages. They can determine what colour you paint the outside of your house and what slates or tiles you use if you have to have the roof attended to.

He is so important, if he had said “Yes” then the Green Belt would have been overturned. But, as he pointed out, would we really like the neighbouring fields to be accorded planning permission as well?

Of course we would not but we only entertained the idea because so many people said it was such a lovely spot, we ought to try for planning permission. And it was refused because it is such a lovely spot: which is no bad thing, really.

Throughout all our investigations into the possibility of a log house with four bedrooms, we had been aware of the need for a Plan B: something to get out teeth into if the expected refusal was given. We didn’t want to feel flat and dissatisfied with our existing house.

In this respect, the Mayor suggested we extend one of the outbuildings at The Folly and if we wanted a toilet and septic tank that would be Ok, but we had to contact the appropriate authority for that.

After emerging from the local town hall, and preparing to adopt Plan B, a friend suggested all was not lost and we should contact their wonderful architect who could probably swing it for us in respect of a log house. We thought it worthwhile to exhaust all avenues and, as requested, sent off plans and photographs.

We undertook that, last October. The architect kept asking for more information which suggested she was preparing a strong case and twice we sent off more details but, by February, she was asking for still more photographs taken from different angles.

I know it takes time for anything to happen in France, but I drew the line and rather firmly suggested the architect actually come and look at The Folly and gain the overall picture. This was agreed, although we were told the earliest date was April.

It is ironic really, because we had imagined by this time she had been involved in at least two conversations with the Mayor, and probably discussed the matter at length with President Sarkozy during the five months.

Voicing my disappointment at having to wait a further six weeks for the architect to visit, another friend told us about the equivalent of free County Council architectural advice and we duly booked that. They responded within a week and, upon visiting the site, told us we could not build, but we could extend upwards and outwards on the existing outhouses.

This seemed pretty definite so, when the foot-dragging private architect rang, we inquired into her progress. It transpired nothing had been done or attempted in five months. She had the file and was prepared to visit the site and she outlined her charges.

It is times like this when I wish my French was so much better and I could tell them where to strategically place their estimates, but that was enough.

We had come to terms with the fact, The Folly would remain just that, perhaps with a water supply, a toilet and septic tank, but we would not be moving there.