Sorry about this, but I feel I must
I was blathering on yesterday about my driving licence and suggested I would mention why I wanted to change it to a Greek one. Apart from the fact the old one was out of date, and I’ve lived in Greece for 17 years and should have done it ones ago, I want to make myself as securely rooted here as possible because of the great tragedy, circus, con, disaster, pointlessness, etc., of the B word. (Brexit, of course.) You know I am as against the thing as much as any other sane person and, as the horror has worsened, and the few have taken over control of the cuntry and basically bashed it around so much it’s unrecognisable to me as my birthplace, I have turned my back on it as much as I can. I know, some of you will scream ‘Traitor!’ and all that malakies, but actually, no. To see your country fall to right-wing, Conservative bigots with a personal and financial agenda who don’t care about their fellow citizens, and perticularly not about those of them who exercised their right (repeat, their right) to live abroad… Well, to me, that’s traitorous. Anyway, I’m wandering. What was I saying?
Ah, yes. As I sit here and read with horror what your PM is trying to do (i.e., con the unthinking classes into believing we’re involved in a total war, as WWII was, and conning the populace daft enough to fall for it, that what he is doing is the only good thing for the yUK, and all that), I’m over here, helpless. Stripped of my democratic right to a vote in the country of my birth because I exercised a legal right (what next? Stripped of my passport?), and soon to be stripped of my democratic right to vote for anything anywhere in the world, I naturally have to do everything I can to protect myself. That’s what this kind of populism does; it turns people in on themselves to the detriment of the wider world, which is why we see it rise, and so around goes the vicious circle. I have now done all I can do to protect myself after the unthinkable happens. Here, after another random photo, is what I have put in place.
Firstly, I am now civilly partnered with a European passport holder. This was done for reasons other than Brexshit, of course, but it seems to be the most solid of my preparations. I am married under a Greek law inspired by European fairness. I no longer rely on the Greek state for insurances, because I have private health insurance and pension. I pay my taxes in Greece (since 2003) as that is where I have my permanent address. It’s odd how many people assume that because I am British, I pay tax in that cuntry. Why should I? I say. I have not lived there for 17 years. Besides, I can’t pay yUK tax; I don’t have a yUK address. ‘Oh, well I use my parents’ address,’ say some. ‘Well that’s fine, you bend or cheat the system and do what’s convenient for you if that’s what you want to do,’ I reply. ‘For me, I believe I should pay tax in the country in which I live, whether that means paying more, or not knowing how to lessen the tax blow, having no allowances or whatever, and having to pay an accountant to do the returns for me. I also now have a private, early-retirement investment plan, the income from which is taxed here. I am contributing, and am happy to do so. There’s more…
I also hold a residency permit which I have had since 2003, although the current one is dated 2008 when the cards/rules changed and became open-ended. I am thus registered with the authorities as living in Greece since 2003, assuming the paperwork still exists in the bottom drawer of that rusty filing cabinet in the police station which is where I last saw my documents back in 2008. On top of that, I now have a European/Greek driving licence, and an affidavit sworn with the Rhodes notary stating my address which, on Symi, is a hard thing to prove, for me at least. The house contract and phone bill are in Neil’s name because it made sense for the business at the time, and the electricity and water bills are in the landlord’s name – or the name of his late sister to be precise. My mobile bills and bank accounts are in my name and with my address, which helps when proving my address. I can’t think of anything else I can organise to protect myself from the fallout of the hideous B word.
Will there be such a fallout? Who knows? The last Greek Government said we would be safe, but that came with the caveat that they would also do whatever the yUK did. So if Bulls**t Boris throws out all Greeks, Greece will probably throw out all British; that’s the bottom line. Many folks say ‘Of course that won’t happen,’ but the truth is, no-one knows, and that uncertainty ain’t doing no-one no good nowhere. And not helping my grammar either (wink), but it’s five in the morning, and I don’t care. A bit like my cuntry doesn’t seem to care about me and the millions like me, many of whom were denied a vote in the most important referendum of their existence. But I am rambling and boring you now. I just wanted to get this off my chest before I head off to Rhodes for a day and a night. I’ll be back on Monday, but I hope the above has given others in my position some idea of things to put in place to assist you should the crunch come and you have to prove your loyalty to Greece where you want to remain, as I do, for the rest of my life.
