Dreams, roof tiles and the skeptic tank: last blog before the holidays!

The Great Septic Tank Saga: From Digging to Chardonnay

If you’ve ever had the idea of buying a house in France and everything would ‘just’ work out, let me tell you in advance: there’s always something. In our case, it was the septic tank. It all started in December 2021, when we enthusiastically signed the purchase contract for our house. The contract was a bit like a book you didn’t want to read too much into, but still couldn’t ignore. One of the chapters talked about installing a new septic tank. No problem, we thought at the time. We’ll take care of that.

As is often the case with large projects, reality turned out to be a lot more complicated. We spent the next year reading rules, comparing bids and having countless conversations about what was and wasn’t allowed. We sometimes felt like amateur lawyers trying to figure out why the signed contract was not as simple as it seemed. It became a kind of “why is this so hard” reality show.

Finally, at the end of 2023, we decided to join forces with Arnaud. He came from our village, which gave us not only the advantage of local knowledge, but also the hope that this would be good for our integration. Who doesn’t want to build good relationships with the people in your neighborhood, right?

We had agreed that work would begin in April, but as it happens with many large projects, it became August. And suddenly there he was, Arnaud, with machinery you would normally only expect to find in an adult playground. There we went, with gravel, sand, and the biggest tanks you can imagine – 2,500 kg each. For a moment we thought we were embarking on a new kind of “gravel and sand art,” but no, it soon became clear that real digging was required. And that’s what Arnaud did. And digging. And more digging.

The pit that eventually emerged was so big that you could have easily put a small swimming pool in it. About 10 x 6 x 6 meters. I looked down and thought, “This is not a septic tank, this is a small stadium!”

And then suddenly Arnaud stopped digging. He came over to us, his face serious. “Nous avons un problem,” he said. A “grande” problem. It turned out that there had to be a floor under the tanks, otherwise they would tip over as the groundwater rose. Oh well, what’s a little extra work? If it had to be done, it had to be done. And so it happened.

Two days later, a whole army of five men suddenly showed up at our door at seven in the morning. They came not to have breakfast, but to pour a floor. It was as if we ended up in a comedy. By 9:30 a.m. I suddenly heard no sounds. I walked outside and what I saw was surreal: the floor had been poured and the men were standing in a circle, emptying a cold bottle of Chardonnay. “Job done,” Arnaud said with a smile. While driving away, a little too enthusiastically, one of the men hit our electrical cabinet. – But oh well, the insurance will take care of that, right?

Arnaud, determined to win not only a septic tank but also our heartfelt thanks, had delivered everything neat and tidy a week later. He had even leveled the guest lawn, creating a sort of undulating effect. The new lush green color created a soothing and inviting atmosphere. It was almost too good to be true. Now, standing in the garden, I feel like the king of my own “green palace.

What began as a quiet life in nature soon took on a new dimension: the idea of starting a mini-camping site in our orchard! And as with any dream come true, a lot of practicalities soon came into play.

First there was applying for the permit. As you can imagine, that was not a “last hand on and done” job. It was a process where patience was key. Patience, patience and more patience. It was a bit like waiting for the bus that just won’t come, but luckily one day a bus always comes. But we knew then: the job was far from finished.

We had a plan: a hedge, a nice green hedge, for some more privacy. It seemed so simple, but as with all things gardening, it turned out to be easier said than done. Instead of just putting a few meager plants in the ground, we decided to go big: about 300 hedge plants came with us from the Netherlands. And not just any hedge plants, oh no! Various species, to complete the picture.

There we stood, for two days, shovel in hand, under a bright sun and occasional unexpected rain. And what a job it was! But somehow, with a little perseverance, after those two days stood a hedge you could admire. And when I say “you could admire,” I mean that seriously. The hedge turned out so beautifully that we almost want to put a small statue in front of it. Maybe that will come, but for now the hedge is the star of the show.

Now we look at a green wall that not only guards our privacy, but also gives us a sense of pride. Because we didn’t do it alone – we did it together. And when it comes to mini-camping, this is exactly what we wanted: a place where people can enjoy nature, with a little extra privacy and lots of greenery around them.

We haven’t finished all the work yet, but this is a step in the right direction. And who knows, maybe soon we’ll be sitting around enjoying a glass of wine, the smell of the hedge in the air and feeling satisfied with all we’ve accomplished together.