Looking for the good life in southern France, my husband and I first travelled from Seattle, Washington to Gascony in May 2006 with a couple of friends, hoping to find a house we might purchase together. All of us loved the rural French countryside. We rented a two-bedroom stone cottage in a small hamlet in the Gers department, often called the Tuscany of the southwest thanks to its bucolic landscapes.

For five weeks in the spring we spent mornings sightseeing and visiting local farmers’ markets. In the afternoons we enjoyed alfresco meals and long twilight evenings strolling country roads under a panoply of stars. We put 3,500 kilometers on our rental car looking at 25 houses in various stages of disrepair. A week before the trip ended we were shown a 300-year-old ruin built of stone and half-timbering, sitting on a knoll in the middle of a 500-hectare farm.

The front door faced east, the rising sun cresting the village of Campagne d’Armagnac. To the south we could glimpse the peaks of the Pyrénées mountains. Just across the road to the west were vineyards, and to the north, through the branches of an old oak tree, the 11th century Basque church, Cutxan, rose majestically into the azure blue sky. The ruin had no electricity, no water, and no plumbing. The attic was full of old bottles and rusted tools and the barn was stuffed with ancient farm equipment. An overgrown pond was a watering hole for deer, wild boar, crayfish and herons. For some inexplicable reason my husband and I were smitten. Our friends were not interested at all.

We returned to our respective lives, but he and I were unable to stop daydreaming about the ruin. Often we reminded each other of meeting the elderly couple, Jeanette and Roger, who owned the ruin, as welcoming to foreigners as any two people could be. They spoke a Gascon patois almost indecipherable, especially Roger, but each possessed a joie de vivre that was clearly communicable. In October we decided to go back to the Gers to see if the magic was still there. We stepped off the plane in Bordeaux, picked up a rental car and drove south. Once actually at the ruin, we felt like we had come home. I hadn’t the faintest idea that 8 years after purchasing the property we would be mired in the French court system, tied up in bureaucratic knots, and separated by more than an ocean.

We purchased the property and the following year returned to interview local builders. I chose a French builder highly recommended by the only other American couple we knew. As a former architect I drew up a set of plans and researched local building codes, of which there were few. I submitted six different sets of plans, each summarily rejected by the head of the local building department until I returned wearing my sexiest outfit.

Renovation began the next year. We arrived at the end of May eager to have the project completed by late summer. We planned to sell our house in the States and move permanently to France. After our first walk-through of the house, I realized our builder was more charming than competent: everything from the foundation to the roof needed to be redone – our renovation needed to be renovated. We fired the builder and subsequently hired two building experts and two attorneys. The second building expert, hired by us but appointed by the court, first found in our favor awarding us enough money to fix the problems, but remarkably retracted his ruling three months later. Our dream house sat untouched for the next 4 years.

We filed an appeal and returned to France only to have the judge tell us we had no right to question a court-appointed expert. Our new attorney changed his strategy and we filed for another court hearing. Each year, for two more years, we would return ensured that a final court date would be set, but each year the builder was granted a postponement. Finally, we were allowed to continue work on our house, but the lawsuit lingered, our retirement fund was depleted, and my husband decided he would never return to France. When the lawsuit was finally heard we were awarded nothing. I made the big leap across the pond, alone.

French Country Adventures began as a modest idea while driving family and friends throughout southern France and slowly evolved into thoughtfully designed, slow travel tours. By returning every year and immersing ourselves into the life of our village, we’d been able to harvest deep and lasting friendships and an appreciation for the good life in southern France which provided the support I needed to begin my life anew.

I have had many incredible adventures and learned much about myself through living in another culture. Instead of my world becoming smaller at this stage of my life, it has become larger. I have welcomed guests from all over the world to travel with me on very small group tours of no more than 6 people, guided by my simple philosophy: when you do less, you experience more. Traveling slowly encourages friendships to form that last beyond our time together. Unlike other companies I don’t hire other guides, I am the guide. I don’t hire other drivers, I am the driver. On a French Country Adventure the simple pleasures of life are the most important. Well-being is not a luxury but an ordinary, daily prerogative.

If you have a passion for travel and discovering the hidden treasures of southern France, I welcome you to join me on a tour. This year all of my tours have been sold out until this past weekend. I’ve had 5 cancellations. There is now 1 place available on the Basque Country Tour, May 29-June 7, and 4 places available on the November 18-24, Armagnac tour.

I understand the shame, dishonor and disgrace Trump has brought to the United States. It’s simply horrifying, but rest assured it’s Trump and his cabinet who have garnered ill will, not most Americans, especially those that are world travelers. I’ve been living in France for 20 years and have never felt anything but genuine concern and utter disbelief about U.S.politics.

The news right now is overflowing with things to be outraged, downhearted, and frightened about, and I will admit that I am, quite often these days, all of those things. Travel can be an antidote to the absence of wisdom and compassion. Nothing lasts, but everything matters.

Sue Aran lives in the Gers department of southwest France. She is the owner of French Country Adventures, which provides private, personally-guided, small-group, slow travel tours into Gascony, the Pays Basque, Provence and beyond. She writes a monthly blog about her life in France and is a contributor to Bonjour Paris and France Today magazines. Slow Travel Tours is an affiliation of small-group tour operators who offer personalized trips in Italy, France, England and other European countries.