The French House started like almost every other antiques business; with an old van, a willingness to try something new and a sense of adventure.

In the mid 90's my Dad and I set off to France in an ex post office van, still colourfully sign written 'Royston Discount Centre', a subtle reference to it's previous life making budget deliveries. Ambitiously, we plotted a course to the French Pyrenees and spent a week on route national, eyes alert for 'brocante' signs and iron baths (it was common for stately, 19th century tubs to finish up as a cattle water troughs) heading home when our little red shuttle was completely full.

I think it was on the return leg of the 3rd trip, and thankfully having just descended the twisting mountain roads, our brakes melted, and at risk of sounding dramatic I can say to only lose our van that morning was a result. Slightly bruised and still mere fledglings in the antiques world, we were hooked, there would be no going back.

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