Pembury Baptist Church

Ian and Mary Roberts - The Story of Le Mouret

Ian and Mary Roberts were interviewed by Wayne Alexander during the Sunday morning church service, giving an intriguing precis of their testimony of following the Lord's leading but you can now read the whole story up to the actual purchase of this very special place.  Please keep Ian and Mary in your prayers as they move over to France to begin this very special mission.  Ian and Mary write:

'In the autumn of 2001, some dear Canadian friends, Ian and Janice Ross were staying with us. As we sat together one evening, enjoying a glass of wine, Ian Ross asked Ian what his ‘dream’ was.  Ian was a little diffident about sharing it at first, because he didn’t think it was very ‘spiritual’. We had not yet learnt that God often operates through the desires of our heart, but He was about to show us how this works. This is how he described his dream:

“My dream is of a place of beauty and tranquillity, where people who are broken and hurting can come and be restored”. Instinctively he knew that this would be in France, a land we had regarded as our ‘second home’, since spending many happy holidays there from the earliest days of knowing each other.

Ian and Janice were very encouraging and prayed with us to hear more from God.

As the end of the year approached, Ian began to feel that if ever we were to pursue this ‘dream’, now might be a good time.  He had a good job and a tiny mortgage, and thought maybe we should push some doors and see if they opened.  We began contacting French estate agents, thinking initially that we would explore the Tarn area.  However, a chance conversation with an English agent led us in a new and unexpected direction.  He asked a very unusual question for an estate agent ….. he said, “What is your vision for the place?”  This struck me as ‘significant’, so I told him that we were Christians and told him ‘the dream’.  His response was ‘I don’t think you’re looking in the right place.  I think you ought to look on the old pilgrim routes’.   I asked him what he meant, and he told her about the ancient pilgrim routes through France to Compostella in northern Spain.  His suggestion was that we might like to explore the Gers department, an area of France hitherto unknown to us.

We decided to keep our options open and arranged a short house-hunting trip for the end of February 2002, booking to stay in a chateau B & B just west of Toulouse, the idea being that we could go north up to the Tarn and west to the Gers.  However, as the travel date drew near, we found ourselves with only ONE property to view, Le Mouret.  Agents in the Tarn region had not been able to arrange viewing of properties we thought possible, and others had just been unsuitable.  We only had some very basic details on Le Mouret, which made it look very dreary, although Camilla, who had spent quite a bit of time surfing the net for likely properties, had come across Le Mouret and had said immediately, “that’s the one!”

On 28^th February (may be 1^st March) we drove over to Montreal to meet “immobilier” Michel Laffargue, a larger-than-life Gascon who, fortunately for us spoke good English.  We followed him at terrifying speed along undulating narrow lanes and eventually through an unattractive light industrial area of Condom (very off putting), which we now realise was just a short cut, until we headed up the little lane to Vopillon and thence to Le Mouret.  

It couldn’t have really looked worse.  Cold winter rain sheeting down, the whole place shuttered and dark, the surroundings overgrown and unkempt, littered with rusting farm machinery and junk and inside one cold tap and an outside loo. Totally dead!  We viewed the house on the inside as well as we could, not easy as there was no electricity and it was shuttered.  No chance of looking around outside as it was raining too hard.  Ian was not at all sure, although I, ever the optimist, couldn’t help feeling that the house had potential, even in its totally dilapidated state. Ian, too, could see potential – for many red figures on his bank statement! As we drove away he asked me what I thought, thinking I would agree it was ghastly.  I was enthusiastic - Ian gulped!  However, always prepared to be open he valiantly agreed to ask Michel if we could come back the next day and have another look.  I should perhaps say that Michel was keen to give us out money’s worth and tore off to show us another property that afternoon, which was nice but too close to a busy road.

Next day, we set off again for Le Mouret, having been told we could look round on our own this time.  As we drove along Ian said, “I’ve asked God to give us a sign.  I’ve asked Him that if this is the right house, would he make a dove coo.” Now Ian is no naturalist and had no idea whether there were even doves in that area, but cooing doves have always been a sound he loves, and has felt are significant.

Fortunately the heavy rain had stopped, although the skies remained leaden. Over a period of two hours or so we examined just about every inch of the property, measuring rooms and working out what we might do where.  Although the house had been empty for several years, its current owner, an English divorcee, had begun to do some work on the upstairs rooms.  She had also purchased all the plumbing and central heating, though not installed it.  However, a new relationship had led her to abandon the project, and hence Le Mouret was on the market.  It is difficult to say why I found the whole place so fascinating and appealing, but the more I looked round the more potential I could see.  But it was completely quiet outside – no cooing doves!

At last we were done, and retired to the hangar where we sat down on an old bench to eat a baguette for lunch.   Watery sun was trying to break through the grey.  And then, suddenly, when we’d forgotten all about it, we heard out of nowhere a dove coo *- just a couple of coos.  Transfixed, we stared at each other! Oh gosh, this is it!! 

On the way back to our B & B we talked it through a bit more before phoning Michel to say that, in principle, we were interested and planned to make an offer.  It was then we were told that there was a French couple after it.  On our return to England we were rung and told that the French couple had made an offer that had been accepted.  It didn’t seem to make sense.  But we gave it back to God, trusting that He would continue to lead us on if we had been mistaken about Le Mouret.

Two weeks later Michel phoned.  The French couple had dropped out. He asked if we were still interested and wished to make an offer.  Scared and excited we told him we did. We were stepping into the unknown, committing ourselves to an adventure far bigger than we had ever imagined, trusting that God would guide if Le Mouret was His idea.  It was the start of an amazing walk of trust, where we would see Him provide everything we needed at each stage.

* We have subsequently read that the migratory routes of doves follow the ancient pilgrim routes through France!

So, at the beginning of April 2002, the ball started to roll.  We had no real clue what we were doing or how to go about it.  Our knowledge of the French language was verging on non-existent.  We were way out of our depth and knew the only course was to trust God and keep giving the whole thing back to Him.

Hurdle no.1 - Finding a bi-lingual “notaire”.  No way could we handle legal issues without someone who could explain them to us.  After a couple of false starts we were finally given the name of a charming, English-speaking “notaire” called Karine Simon, who had helped some friends of ours, Jon and Antonia Breakspear, buy their property in the Tarn. Of course lawyers have different skills, and so Ian nearly wept with relief when she told him that her thesis when studying had been ‘The law governing foreign nationals purchasing property in France’.  She held our hand throughout the buying process, dealing competently with all the issues, and even travelled over to join us at Mezin for the signing of the “compromis de vente”, even though she lived a good two hours away.

Hurdle no.2 – Finding a Project Manager.  It was clear that we had to find a reliable and competent person to oversee the extensive work that needed to be done to transform Le Mouret from its dilapidated state.  We scoured ‘French Property News’ small ads, made fruitless phone calls, and asked Michel Laffargue, the “immobilier” whom he might recommend, but as the time approached to complete on the sale we were no further forward.  There was a frustrating meeting with a local French architect whose English was not much better than our French, and he clearly thought our budget laughably small. We let him drive away in his Range Rover.

However, shortly before leaving for France to attend the signing of the “compromis de vente”, (on the 23^rd July 2002), combined with our summer holiday, some old friends, Andrew and Fenella Blamey, invited us to their 25^th wedding anniversary.  At the party, we explained to them what we were about to do, whereupon they told us of friends of theirs, Tim and Gay Badgett, who, having had a house in the Condom area for many years, now had moved to live there full time and – they believed – Tim was making his living renovating houses.  Once in France, and having become the owners of a large crumbling farmhouse, we telephoned the Badgetts and invited them over.   Tim, who along with his team had been busy restoring a large village house nearby, which was nearing completion, agreed to take on Le Mouret as his next project.  Once again, the Lord had come through for us.

At this time we also made the acquaintance of Peirre Beyrie, an insurance agent in Condom, who contacted us to arrange insurance cover for the property. It transpired that his family had owned Le Mouret for many years prior to our vendor. To our amazement he told us that historical records showed that the property had, in medieval times, been a “chapel and healing house”, a hospital run by a religious order for sick pilgrims on their journey to Compostella and that one of the main pilgrim routes ran only a few hundred yards from the house!

Work began early in 2003, and as we were intending to let the house during the High Season, the aim was to have it habitable by June of that year.  It was a huge undertaking.  Although a small amount of work had already been done to the upstairs of the main house, the rest was a grimy shell that needed plumbing, heating and electrics installed, beams sandblasted, walls plastered and decorated and huge areas of floor tiled.  In places the original mediaeval walls were so thick that a huge, metre-long drill bit had to be purchased in order to bore the necessary holes for wires and pipe work.

Outside the house there was also a massive amount to do.  There were a “fosse septique” and swimming pool to be installed and the farmyard, part graveyard of rusting farm machinery and part jungle, to be cleared. 

All this was organised and project-managed by Tim.  It was a Herculean task, most of which we never saw happen, apart from regular photos sent by e-mail to keep us abreast of progress.  And the French architect had been right – our budget was way too low!  We became aware that, although Ian had striven to maintain a grip on the spending, accounting wasn’t Tim’s strongest area, and we were over the line in a pretty major way.  So major, in fact, that we weren’t quite sure how we were going to find the money, as we had already taken out the largest mortgage we had ever had (in itself very ‘counter cultural’ for Ian, a cautious accountant who had already suffered 18 months without a proper job, having to sell out last house to pay the mortgage only two years earlier!).  Ian even looked into selling his beloved Jeep!  However, it happened at this time of crisis that a close family member came to dinner.  During the course of the evening Le Mouret came into the conversation and, on being asked how things were going, Ian found himself admitting to being in a bit of a scrape financially but saying he felt that a solution would be found.  The solution came the very next day, in a phone call from the relative, who offered the gift of a substantial sum which more than adequately covered the shortfall.  Once again, we saw the Father’s generous and gracious provision.

Equipping and furnishing Le Mouret also had to be done, as it were, from a distance, but in this as well, we had a sense of God’s guidance and provision as we were directed to different shops and outlets.  The Badgetts were a tremendous help, particularly on one epic shopping expedition to Bordeaux Ikea when our car, stuffed to capacity with household goods, broke down and they had to rescue us. 

On 30^th May 2003, we spent our first night at Le Mouret.  The paint was hardly dry and there were still things to finish off, but Tim and his team had dragged mattresses into each of our rooms and we ‘camped’ there for the first time.  As we settled down to sleep a nightingale serenaded us from the chestnut tree, continuing all night till the dawn chorus began!

On the anniversary of the purchase we held a ‘cremaillere’ (housewarming party) at Le Mouret, and invited all the people who had been instrumental in the project, including the “immobilier” Michel Laffargue, who, on seeing the transformation over such an incredibly short time, declared, “Tim Badgett, he is a god!”  Not quite our sentiment, much as we like him but he had picked up the miraculous nature of the exercise. 

Since it has been habitable so many people, including locals who are familiar with the area have come into the house and remarked on its “peace”. Perhaps most remarkable was our next door neighbour, a young French farmer who has lived there all his life in coming over to discuss the fields said “C’est tranquille” – he too had picked up something and although he may not know what at the moment, we hope that in time he will. 

And we know that this is only the beginning of the story.