Life at № 42
Les Echos just published an article a few days ago on the evolution of property prices in France from the crisis to now. Paris (obviously) tops the list as the most expensive m2. The Limousin is at the bottom and everyone else is somewhere in the middle. Our region is still the best value in the south with an average house price of €216,000. New builds are cheaper. I imagine a lot of that has to do with location. Old country, old cities- all the best areas were already built up by the end of the 19th century. New builds here tend to be in the peripheries. 2015 is the first year since the crisis where there’s been a significant rise in the provinces.
Keeping up with this sort of news has become sort of an obsession. I often ask myself what in the world am I doing? I also wonder how in the world does everyone else know what they’re doing? Do they? What’s the trick? What do you invest in? How much? When? Where? Educated guesses, really. If financial advisors really knew what they were doing, (some) people wouldn’t lose their entire life savings when there’s a financial crisis. Sometimes it keeps me up at night. Wondering, second guessing.
We’ve kept our investments as straightforward and safe as possible. I suppose I’m traumatised. No safe spaces or trigger warnings to help anyone navigate the financial markets. I don’t want to ever be in a situation where we have no liquidity again. Think Scarlett holding the carrot.
In other news I’m still semi-struggling with furniture for number 42. I got an attractive pair of console tables for the green salon. Green and parcel-gilt. The gilding needs some slight touching up which I’ll do when I can find the time.
Now I’ve got to get back to work. A new bathroom mirror and some light fixtures are needed in one of the apartments in building I. My white male privilege means I also get to work on Saturdays, Sundays and holidays. Isn’t it fantastic?!?