The end of my trip saw me back where I had started, visiting again the two plots of land shown to me earlier in the day by Paolo.
The first plot was just above the village of Perinaldo, a short walk beyond the end of a difficult unmetalled track. The plot was covered with Mimosa and the position was wonderful, if a little windy, with unbroken views to the sea and across the hills to France.
The second plot was just below Perinaldo with views down the valley past the Cassini designed church to the sea, not as spectactular as at the first plot but still excellent and with much easier access. When I had stood on this plot earlier in the day the sun was out and the only sound I heard was the village church bell tolling 1pm. I imagined then hearing the same bell again but accompanied by the chinking of ice in a glass of G & T.
Both plots were pretty much within my budget. All was going okay, I had a choice of two plots - I just needed to persuade Michelle.
I returned to Perinaldo with Michelle a week or so later. I showed her both plots, the weather was grey and grim with a light drizzle, no views! - what chance, no chance.
Despite having had a pleasant weekend staying at Monte Carlo Beach resort, we returned to Nice airport for the return flight with little apparent interest in the project on Michelle's part - until that was when I caught her doodling in her diary. Asked what she was drawing she replied 'the floor plan to our villa'.
In the week following our return I was told that the higher plot had been sold - I acted quickly and made an offer on the other which, to my relief, was then accepted.
I knew then there was no going back.
Thursday, 27 December 2007
Wednesday, 26 December 2007
Familiarity
Boxing day, 2007
When I was a kid I had little appreciation of how fortunate I was to have stayed at the flat in Venti; that was until a dispute in the mid/late '70's saw the family pretty much split in two.
You see, 'Calandre' was no ordinary appartment in a block built off flat ground. It was one of a few hanging off the side of a cliff with a roof top car park, a private beach accessed via either a scary lift or an even scarier and at times treacherous path. What made Calandre really special though were the views across the bay and along the coast past Capo Mortola and into France and Cap Martin; Cap Ferrat as far as Cap d'Antibes.
The intervening years saw me drawn back, like iron filings to a magnet, to the area even though it became increasingly difficult to use the flat.
It is difficult to say when I first developed an interest in having a property in the area myself. I suppose that if our access to the flat hadn't been so difficult the thought would never arisen but as I grew older and my business career developed, more and more I became fascinated, perhaps even a little obsessed with the idea of owning a little bit of Italy.
I first really seriously toyed with the idea in the autumn of 2004 when, following a trip to Genoa on business, I travelled with my wife, Michelle, to the region of Piemonte adjacent to Liguria where we visited a few 'rustici' and land plots. The weather wasn't great: but even if it had been I think I had already made up my mind that if it were to happen anywhere it would be in the area I had known since a boy.
The real catalyst to realising my dream came after I walked out on Beazley in October, 2005. Faced with 6 months 'gardening leave' I found myself spending a lot of time at home. In between the interviews, telephone calls and e-mail associated with the necessity of finding another job I spent a lot of time surfing the net.
It was during one late night surf that I happened across an Estate Agency called Agenzia Liguria.
A couple of e-mails whetted my appetite and as soon as I had secured another job at the beginning of Feb 2006 I arranged to visit the area and meet my contact, Paolo Rossini, as well as a couple of other agencies.
Two days at the end of Feb saw me driving a hundred miles or so, village to village, property to property, rustico to rustico, plot to plot.
At the end of the trip I ended up where I had started, literally, 2 days or 38 years before - in Perinaldo.
When I was a kid I had little appreciation of how fortunate I was to have stayed at the flat in Venti; that was until a dispute in the mid/late '70's saw the family pretty much split in two.
You see, 'Calandre' was no ordinary appartment in a block built off flat ground. It was one of a few hanging off the side of a cliff with a roof top car park, a private beach accessed via either a scary lift or an even scarier and at times treacherous path. What made Calandre really special though were the views across the bay and along the coast past Capo Mortola and into France and Cap Martin; Cap Ferrat as far as Cap d'Antibes.
The intervening years saw me drawn back, like iron filings to a magnet, to the area even though it became increasingly difficult to use the flat.
It is difficult to say when I first developed an interest in having a property in the area myself. I suppose that if our access to the flat hadn't been so difficult the thought would never arisen but as I grew older and my business career developed, more and more I became fascinated, perhaps even a little obsessed with the idea of owning a little bit of Italy.
I first really seriously toyed with the idea in the autumn of 2004 when, following a trip to Genoa on business, I travelled with my wife, Michelle, to the region of Piemonte adjacent to Liguria where we visited a few 'rustici' and land plots. The weather wasn't great: but even if it had been I think I had already made up my mind that if it were to happen anywhere it would be in the area I had known since a boy.
The real catalyst to realising my dream came after I walked out on Beazley in October, 2005. Faced with 6 months 'gardening leave' I found myself spending a lot of time at home. In between the interviews, telephone calls and e-mail associated with the necessity of finding another job I spent a lot of time surfing the net.
It was during one late night surf that I happened across an Estate Agency called Agenzia Liguria.
A couple of e-mails whetted my appetite and as soon as I had secured another job at the beginning of Feb 2006 I arranged to visit the area and meet my contact, Paolo Rossini, as well as a couple of other agencies.
Two days at the end of Feb saw me driving a hundred miles or so, village to village, property to property, rustico to rustico, plot to plot.
At the end of the trip I ended up where I had started, literally, 2 days or 38 years before - in Perinaldo.
Tuesday, 25 December 2007
The beginning
Christmas day, 2007
This is the opening blog for Villa Benara!
What? where? I hear you ask. I suppose a little introduction might help.
How did it all start?
The summer of 1967 saw me celebrate my 4th birthday and my first trip to Italy with my parents and brothers to stay in my grandparents 'appartamento' at Residenza Calandre Mare in Ventimiglia.
I am farthest right in the picture!
I wasn't aware of it until recently, but my grandparents were in Italy to celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary and had given up the flat for us to use and were staying instead at an hotel (the curiously named Albergo Milano) in Perinaldo.
Just yesterday my father showed me the picture below of the family taken at the hotel in Perinaldo when we went to visit my grandparents. You can probably guess that I'm the grumpy one on the far right!
Almost every year from then until I was 18, my family would spend a week or two in 'Venti' and would travel to surrounding areas, particularly Menton just across the border into France and the mediaeval hill top villages behind Venti; Apricale, Dolceacqua and Perinaldo.
I suppose this part of the world, which at that time was a two day drive from Kent, became a second home for me and my familiarity with what was good and not so good was reinforced year after year.
I loved the heat, the thunderstorms, the food (pasta, mortadella, torta verde, peach juice and ice cream in particular), the beach, the smells... oh! and of course the cars!
It wasn't all good! Worst of all were the smells! Walking through Ventimiglia alta was not the most pleasant experience. At night it was positively dangerous as was known to harbour local criminals - but worse, much worse was the smell - in the late 1960's and early 70's, older parts of Italy like Ventimiglia alta were ill-equipped when it came to sanitation! Hold your breathe....
This is the opening blog for Villa Benara!
What? where? I hear you ask. I suppose a little introduction might help.
How did it all start?
The summer of 1967 saw me celebrate my 4th birthday and my first trip to Italy with my parents and brothers to stay in my grandparents 'appartamento' at Residenza Calandre Mare in Ventimiglia.
I am farthest right in the picture!
I wasn't aware of it until recently, but my grandparents were in Italy to celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary and had given up the flat for us to use and were staying instead at an hotel (the curiously named Albergo Milano) in Perinaldo.
Just yesterday my father showed me the picture below of the family taken at the hotel in Perinaldo when we went to visit my grandparents. You can probably guess that I'm the grumpy one on the far right!
Almost every year from then until I was 18, my family would spend a week or two in 'Venti' and would travel to surrounding areas, particularly Menton just across the border into France and the mediaeval hill top villages behind Venti; Apricale, Dolceacqua and Perinaldo.
I suppose this part of the world, which at that time was a two day drive from Kent, became a second home for me and my familiarity with what was good and not so good was reinforced year after year.
I loved the heat, the thunderstorms, the food (pasta, mortadella, torta verde, peach juice and ice cream in particular), the beach, the smells... oh! and of course the cars!
It wasn't all good! Worst of all were the smells! Walking through Ventimiglia alta was not the most pleasant experience. At night it was positively dangerous as was known to harbour local criminals - but worse, much worse was the smell - in the late 1960's and early 70's, older parts of Italy like Ventimiglia alta were ill-equipped when it came to sanitation! Hold your breathe....
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