A Castle in the Backyard: The Dream of a House in France

Afterword

And we did stay—for another five years. In Castelnaud shops came, shops went, and it was clear that the trappings of a tourist economy had become permanent features of life in our little town. At least Michael had to admit that my laurier strategy for the backyard was an unqualified success, as the towering hedge now completely shielded us from the catapult behind it. We were able to dine on our terrace again in tranquility. Visitors continued to tramp up and down the hill in packs, but at night they disappeared, and just as in the old days, the castle loomed above us still and vigilant in the moonlight. The valley remained as lovely as ever, though Josephine’s castle at Les Milandes was sold, and her J-shaped swimming pool, where we had spent so many pleasant afternoons, was closed. Our favorite chef a f t e r w o r d retired; along with him went the restaurant’s coveted Michelin star. In 2003 the castle installed a new barrier at the entrance to its grounds, and for the first time we could no longer roam the parapets at dusk to watch the houselights twinkling on as the valley darkened below. But the growing popularity of the region brought boons too, including new friendships. Not long after our book was published, we received a letter from a couple in Santa Rosa who, like us, had fallen in love with Périgord and were planning to move to the outskirts of Castelnaud to create a bed and breakfast. Over the course of two years, we followed their careful restoration of an ensemble of old buildings on the road between Castelnaud and Cénac. Just before their opening in the summer of 2004, they hosted a “welcome-back” dinner for us in their capacious kitchen/dining room, which they had kept in the old style of the region. The other dinner guests around a long oak table were our old friends Serge (the charming roofer), who had helped with their restoration , and his wife, Jeanne, newly retired from her central role in town as secretary to the mayor. Somewhat to our embarrassment, Jeanne, who read English better than we knew, had translated to Serge the tales we had told about them in chapter 6. (Others in the village had heard that we had written a book about Castelnaud, but few could make out more than a phrase or two in English .) At first Serge pretended to be insulted, threatening Michael with a balled fist—but it was just a goodnatured joke and we all spent an evening filled with laughter. By the way, Serge too has fulfilled a dream. He had always wanted to live “like an American” in a house made of wood, and that is just what he did. He and Jeanne bought a plot of land at the top of a hill 3 0 0 a f t e r wo r d behind the castle and there they constructed Castelnaud ’s only wooden house. We continued to treasure our French friends in the village, but we were glad to have new English-speaking neighbors living just down the road from us, Americans to boot. A favorite topic of conversation between us was the growth of tourism in the region, and it was interesting to hear a different perspective. They, of course, were new arrivals and so had no memory of a more tranquil era. Moreover, they were risking all to open their B&B and would be dependent on a thriving tourist economy. It was only natural that our views would differ. We sensed that we would become close friends. However, that summer was to be our last as homeowners in the village. In the end it wasn’t the growth of tourism but rather signs of our own mortality that led us to a decision to sell. The previous year in Madison, after an October round of golf, Michael had felt a sharp pain in his ankle. Weeks passed with no improvement, followed by a visit to the doctor; puzzlement; x-rays; referral to a specialist; and at last, in late winter, a diagnosis : permanent damage as the result of an unusual joint disease that was likely to worsen over time. Not much could be done beyond taking painkillers and avoiding strenuous walking. That summer the path leading up to our house grew measurably steeper, all the more so when purchases had to be carried. During our...