We did it. We bought a derelict property in north Bulgaria over the internet from our council maisonette in Sheffield. Everyone thinks we are crazy, but at 3900 euro, and the cost of setting up the company (called Maketree) and the agent’s costs, we have spent under 5000 pounds. Compared to purchasing a property in England, we are feeling fairly smug.

With flights by Wizz Air, all five of us arrived in Sofia in the middle of the night, and landed on our friend’s doorstep. That’s Carl, myself (Sharon), Rowan (13), Madeline (10) and Lisa (5), with not a word of Bulgarian among us. After spending the Sunday acclimatising, and purchasing the essential large bucket, we set off in our hire car towards Rousse.

The roads could do with some attention; you need a donkey lane, and many motorists need a greater will to live. When we arrived in Ostritsa, we were unable to find the house, the village being much larger than Carl remembered. Fortunately, the bar was open, and we were shown to the property. The key fitted the gate, to everyone’s relief.

Staying in the village was like falling off the map and going back in time. There were none of the comforts we take for granted except two electric light bulbs. The water supply was a tap in the garden, but no hot water. The toilet reminded me of holidays in France as a child, but you soon got used to it. It took the children a little while to adjust to the idea, but needs must in the end.

First impressions were delightful. A sweet little house in a pretty rural village, with a grazing donkey and happy chickens outside the door. The neighbours were naturally curious and came out to talk to us. It did not take too long to realise that we had no Bulgarian and they had no English, so communicating was not easy. We were reduced to a few phrases from the guide books and gesticulations.

Our neighbour gave up talking and took Carl to the shop and made them open for him so we had drinking water and bread the first night. In the little shop round the corner I played charades on a regular basis to indicate what I wanted, which made everyone laugh, especially the topsy-turvey head nodding and shaking thing which was very, very difficult.

Our youngest, Lisa, received more attention than she was comfortable with. Being five years old and very blonde, everyone wanted to touch her. We were playing catch outside one evening and attracted a crowd of women. We had quite a conversation about the children and how we bought the house. I had found some old photographs inside and they were able to show me who used to live in the house, which was interesting.

In the evening a herd of sheep passed one way and a herd of goats the other. You could hear a pig, cockerels, dogs barking and at night the crickets let you know you were not in England, along with the occasional howl of a wolf or two. It was lovely being able to sit outside and watch the sunset.

A few days later we piled in the car to visit the Black Sea coast. We had promised the children the beach, and we all needed a shower after three days in Ostritsa. It took longer than the map implies getting to Varna, arriving at tea time. The kids were straight in the sea, while Rowan and I went off in search of accommodation. I talked a hotel into letting all five of us stay in one room for two nights. The kids were so excited; there was a toilet, air conditioning and a TV. Hoorah! It wasn’t the most comfortable hotel room, especially for five, but was in the middle of Varna. The municipal beach was heaving with people and the sand may be golden, but it could do with raking occasionally. I even ventured into the sea for a swim, the first time in a long time.

On returning to Ostritsa, sickness gripped two of the children, so we stayed at the house for a couple of days, which was really relaxing. Trying to get about and do anything in a country where you do not speak the language can be exhausting, so existing in our own little oasis was a proper rest, except hand-washing clothes in cold water, of course, as the novelty wears off very quickly. The most difficult thing was responding to the little old lady next door when she hobbled over and sat on our obligatory front bench and watched Carl painting the door frames.

Before leaving, Carl made efforts to secure the house, blocking up broken windows, securing the cellar door, putting new locks and bolts on the back door and a new chain and padlock for the gate. We took loads of photographs of the house inside and out.

We returned to Sofia and arrived at the Art Hostel looking for accommodation for five people, and managed to arrange an art exhibition. The following day was Madeline’s 11th birthday, and we spent a while cleaning our hire car with wet wipes and a quick polish with an old sock. It was shiny, but not exactly clean, so we were delighted to get our full deposit back!

Now we are home again and planning on how to improve and modernise the house in the pretty and thriving village of Ostritsa, as it will fall down soon if nothing is done. We have to learn Bulgarian so we can communicate with a work force, and plan our next trip to deepest, darkest Europe. We will be back.