As far back in his childhood as Denis Buisson can remember, his dream had always been the same. He pictured an old property in the heart of his beloved Dordogne countryside with acres of land to raise a family, keep a horse, and perhaps a sheep or two. Growing up on the outskirts of Périgueux, the industrial heart of the Dordogne, he was determined to make his dream a reality. By the time he reached adulthood however, the Dordogne had already become the British property renovator’s paradise, and his hopes of finding anything affordable even remotely resembling his dream home, were fading fast.
When he was told by a family friend in 1993 that a watermill, eight kilometres outside Ribérac, was about to come on the market, he knew two things before he’d set eyes on the place. First, at the asking price it was going to need extensive renovations, second, he had to move quickly. A three and a half hectare island, the largest in the River Dronne, with a tiny uninhabited mill that pre-dated the French Revolution, plus several outbuildings, was exactly the type of property to appeal to les Anglais.
He and Katia, his future wife, went to view le moulin. As they crossed the private bridge Katia gained a serious rival for Denis’ affection. “Je tombais amoureux,” says Denis. He fell in love but Katia was less enthusiastic, seeing the lack of basic facilities as a real drawback. She envisioned the alterations and repairs stretching out for years to come. “The roof needed re-tiling; it had no proper kitchen, or a bathroom of any kind. An earlier proprietor built a grand house to live in, away from the mill,” she explains. “Le moulin had never been used as a home and the last owner had established a pisciculture, a fish farm. The breeding tanks were still there, but hadn’t been used for many years and were in a sorry state.”
None of this made any difference to the way Denis felt. The property was the fulfilment of his childhood dream, and he wasn’t about to let what he considered to be one or two minor shortcomings stand in his way.
Getting a new roof installed was a priority and they did not feel able to tackle the work themselves. Because they had to hire a contractor, this was the most costly aspect of the renovations. It meant they had very little money left to carry out the remaining alterations. Unable to employ artisans and with both of them working full time, they had little choice but to work at weekends. Over a period of two years, with friends and family members helping out when they could, the mill began to take on the appearance of a home.
The first, and most important, item on the list was to install a bathroom. Friends with plumbing skills were called on to work in exchange for riverside barbeques and late night dining under the stars.
Once the bathroom was complete they set to work on the kitchen. There had originally been a small kitchenette area at the back of the mill room, but it was extremely basic. The Buissons decided to move the kitchen to the front of the house, making it easier for access to the terrace where they dine throughout the summer. “We felt it was important to preserve the style of the mill and didn’t want to put in a modern kitchen,” says Katia. “So we’ve kept it as traditional as possible while still being practical.”
There was much debate over the mill grinding stone. Although they agreed that it was necessary to maintain the character of the room, Katia would have liked to make use of the stone, failing that, to remove it to give them more space. “I had hoped to use it as a dining table, but unfortunately it’s impossible to place chairs underneath.” Denis insisted that it remain, so Katia, with a Gallic shrug, accepts that it is a permanent fixture.
The birth of their daughter, Théa, meant further changes were required, as a bedroom had to be created for her. Denis and friends enclosed part of the mezzanine, used as a grain storage platform when the mill was active. This is now a wood-panelled area that looks rather like a large doll’s house suspended over the mill room. Denis wanted the room to have lots of light so they created a dormer window in the roof. The new window overlooks the river before it flows under the house. It is difficult to decide which river view is the more breathtaking, from the front or to the rear.
To one side of the house is a still-functioning water wheel, on the other a meadow leading down to the far side of the island. The meadow is home to a horse and two sheep. When asked if the sheep were being reared for the pot, both Denis and Katia were horrified. They are passionately anti-hunting, a very popular pastime in this part of France. Their island is a refuge for deer during the season and is very much out of bounds to the hunting fraternity.
The only access to the island is via the private bridge, which now boasts smart electronic gates. “We had to close the entrance,” explains Denis. “Tourists of every nationality would wander across, either in the hope they could cross the Dronne, or even, once, to have a picnic in our meadow.” Katia laughs and takes up the tale. “I speak little English and even less Spanish. I’ve had to explain to Dutch and German backpackers, using broken English and sign language, that this is private property. It seemed easier to put up the gates.”
Because the mill was constructed in 1763, prior to the French Revolution, the Buissons benefit from ancient water rights entrenched by Napoleonic law. The State owns the rivers in France and has the power to divert the flow, or alter riverbanks, without reference to those who live alongside. The only exceptions are those mills operating before 1789. Denis has obtained from the Collections des Archives Departementale de la Dordogne a copy of the Maire’s declaration that le Moulin de Bougeade was indeed a working mill for many years prior to that date.
They have evidence their land was inhabited long before the construction of the mill. Since living at le moulin they have unearthed several flint tools. Recently an axe, said to be a Viking artefact, was found a little way upstream. It is currently under investigation by the historic artefacts authorities in Périgueux.
There is always a price to pay for paradise and the Buissons discovered theirs after a hurricane swept across France in December 1999. The Dronne, which surrounds the island, flooded.
Fallen trees, swept along by the engorged river, destroyed the barrage, a stone dam designed to slow the current. Without the barrage to control the flow, water gushed, carrying storm debris which devastated the riverbanks. As long as the barrage was down, the drag of the water would cause problems for the village upstream, Epeluche. As owners of the island, responsibility for the repair rested squarely on the Buissons, shoulders. Although they received some aid, considerable expense in the shape of machinery and replacement boulders and months of backbreaking effort were required before the barrage was back in place.
With the work completed, the area in front of the dam became once again an ideal spot to swim. The water slows down sufficiently to make bathing safe, but still flows fast enough to ensure the water is always clean. Testimony to that is the abundance of fish in evidence. Denis himself doesn’t fish, but he does allow friends with licences to use the riverbanks during the season.
Prior to la tempête the Dronne would flood perhaps one year in four, it is now an annual event. The road leading to le moulin becomes impassable for a few days each winter. Something many would regard as a disadvantage, not so Denis. For him it was the opportunity to purchase a four-wheel drive vehicle. Katia casts her eyes heavenwards. “He had always wanted one,” she says. “What a perfect excuse it was.”
They have been working on their home for over twelve years and neither of them have any regrets about undertaking such a mammoth task. There is still much they want to do and have already decided on their next project, which will be to construct a wooden deck at the rear of the house to enable them to watch the sun going down. Even without the sunset, the view is spectacular; it would be a pity not to take advantage of it.
Whatever the future contains, it is the present which matters most to Denis. Contentedly holding fourteen-month-old Théa, he is delighted with his home, and believes he has more than fulfilled his childhood ambition.
“C’est vraiment le moulin de mon rêve. This is truly the mill of my dreams.”
© Lorraine Mace 2005
