Banking after Brexit

After yesterday’s bonkers ramble I thought I’d just put up a few images, but then I heard from my bank… I’ll drop some photos in to lessen the tedium.

I don’t know if you’ve been following the news, but one of the many gifts of Brexit without a trade deal is that some people are going to lose their bank accounts and banking services in the UK. These are people whose British bank accounts are held with a European address. In some cases, banks have said they will cease the accounts on a specific date and send the customer a cheque for whatever balance they have in there, and that’s that. Any income after that will be returned to sender. I assume overdrafts will be referred to a debt collection agency, I’m not sure.

Obviously, this has sent some waves of panic through those who have pensions paid into UK bank accounts, who have homes there and need to pay council tax on them, and so on, and others who, for whatever reason, still hold a British account though pay tax in their European country and live there permanently. It’s all been running smoothly for all these years, but now with the yUK Gov blathering about breaking law and treaties they recently signed, it looks increasingly likely there will be no trade deal (perhaps, who can say?), and so things for the millions of Brits abroad will become problematic. One of the problems is the negotiation of bank licenses which now have to be renegotiated between UK banks and EU countries due to the B word, and that’s what’s caused this issue to come up. I’m one such European who has the misfortune to be caught up in the Farage-Cummings-Cameron-et al disgrace that is Brexit as I have a 40-year old account with Barclays held since 2004 under my Greek address, as I mentioned yesterday. But…

Having read all kinds of hearsay on Facebook, and a couple of reports in reputable newspapers, I wrote to my bank via their online banking and received a reply a few hours later. Barclays has told me that my current account will be unaffected, but Barclaycard services will be stopped. I have asked them about Visa debit cards, as that wasn’t mentioned, but as I don’t have a Barclaycard, I can stand down as it looks like my account will just carry on as usual. Hopefully, the debit card will also be okay, as that’s what I use when I am travelling, not that I’m planning to do any of that for a long while, but it’s useful to have on hand so I can dip into my savings in emergencies. So, that’s what I discovered on this subject, and I thought a first-hand experience might be of interest to anyone else in my position. It would appear from the news reports the general outlook depends on what bank you are with, what country you live in, and what services you have, but the sensible advice is to ask your bank directly and not listen to hearsay. I hope that’s of use.

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Scitting an old word or two

I have some more of Neil’s photos to illustrate today’s ramble about nothing in particular. The highlight of my Monday morning reminded me of an old lad joke, which is probably an old dad joke now and involves the use of the vernacular. The word in question was originally scitte in Old English, and according to the Google book n-gram viewer, didn’t come into printed usage until the 1950s, which is strangely understandable, but I am not sure 100% correct. I expect it was widely spoken, and probably printed in other forms, which is what I will do. Instead of using the modern version of scitte, I’ll call it poo, which apparently, appeared in print well before 1800. Anyway, back to the lad joke. If you’re one of those people who don’t approve of this kind of joke (i.e. ones that aren’t that funny and are not very PC), then don’t read the next paragraph, but enjoy Neil’s picture and then scroll down quickly.

The old joke goes like this. One man saying to another: ‘What would you do if a bird pooed on your windscreen?’ Other chap answers, ‘I wouldn’t take her out again.’ And that’s the dodgy joke over with. It came to mind as I was walking down the hill past the car park yesterday morning minding my own business and creating my next chapter in my head. All of a sudden, some bird scitted on my head, bang smack in the middle, green and much of it, and I wasn’t even stationary beneath a telegraph wire or anything. Great shot – and yes I meant to say shot there, but it was also a great… You know what I mean. Luckily, I had a bottle of water with me, so was able to wash my hair in the street. I had to wash my hand too because the first thing you do is say, ‘What’s that?’ put your hand to your head, and there you go. Some say it’s good luck, some say it’s just a Monday morning thing, I just said what it was, with Oh in front and an ! behind, and carried on.

Actually, while I was musing on my next chapter, at the back of my mind was this rumour/truth/yet to be seen thing that’s started filtering around expat circles. That those of us who still have a yUK bank account registered to our Greek address, may/will have the account taken away from us. Some say it’s only Barclaycards, others say it’s only certain banks, others, like me, say, check with your bank and see what they say, which is what I am doing. I have a Greek account and have had it for years, but I’d be loathed to see my old UK one go as I’ve had it 40 years and am rather sentimental about it. Mainly, because when I set it up in Deal, Kent when I was about 18, I went into the branch and everything was civil and pleasant, and the people were lovely. Anyway, this is something to look out for and, no doubt, another great gift of the gaff that’s Brexit, or Brexscitte, perhaps.

I shall probably get told off now, both for telling a dodgy joke and for having a go at Brexit. Apparently, my ‘constant bashing’ of the yUK on my blog is ‘tedious’, according to one commentator. It’s not as tedious as having your bank account taken away from you, not being able to vote in any democratic process, and 101 other gifts of the gaff, and don’t expect me to stop moaning about it either. Oh, here’s a thing I learnt the other day and put on my other, writing blog when I was researching for historical fiction. Do you know what a Romoner was? According to a dictionary of Victorian words, Romoners are ‘fellows pretending to be acquainted with the occult sciences, fortune tellers.’ Just made me think of Remainers being folk who will have to refrain from saying ‘I told you so’ when the scitte hits the fan.

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Slumming it.

I’ve had a great weekend. I’ve been slumming it. Did you know that the word ‘slumming’ came into existence in the late 1870s? It then rose in usage until around 1900 when it declined before rising in popularity again in the late 1970s. Interestingly it is now nearly three times more popular (in 2017) than it was in 1880. Slumming it came about in Victorian times when the middle and upper classes thought it great fun to go and poke their noses around the slums of the East End to see for themselves what life there was really like. It became a form of tourism, forays into ‘Dark London’, a social event that, for some, was nothing short of what we now call rubbernecking. I’ve been researching this phenomenon for a novel, which is why I mention it here. I think it’s going to form the basis of a longer post on my other blog over at jacksonmarsh.com where I’ve been posting a Saturday blog about writing, my books, and related subjects, currently Victorian London as that’s where my research is taking me.
Meanwhile, on Symi…

Neil’s sent me some more of his photos taken when out and about, and as you can see, Paddington is now reunited with Great Aunt Lucy, at least, that’s who we think the second bear should be called. This was knitted for us by a friend who brought it over when she came to visit recently. There are still some regular Symi visitors here, not as many as usual, of course, but the square has had a few busy nights. Some still have no idea about keeping a distance for a good few days after arrival, but we’re becoming quite adept at virtual hugs and kisses thrown across empty space while politely requesting at least one chair’s distance. This isn’t out of fear or rudeness, simply common sense. Even if a test was negative a few days ago, you’ve still been stuck in a metal tube with X number of strangers, maybe crammed into a bus or ridden in a taxi driven by someone you don’t know. You’ve been on a ferry for sure, and well, who knows what’s happened between filling out an online form and turning up on the island. Most people, I’m pleased to say, respect the fact that masks must be worn, and distances kept.

And what’s on this week? Well, I’ve ordered myself to get back to my short walks up a long hill, I have reading to do and another story on the go, but apart from that… Not a lot else. So, I shall get back to slumming it in 1885 and putting words together in what I hope will be a readable order.

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Friday Photos

Here are some of Neil’s recent photos to see you through the weekend. I think it will be a quiet weekend here because let’s face it, it has been a quiet season, to say the least. There are storm warnings for the north of the country, but looking at the Poseidon weather channel, it looks like they will miss us here in the south where we’re still reaching temperatures into the 30s during the day. I have a new book out his weekend and have already started on another because that’s what I do. I think this latest one brings the total to 30. It’s amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it, but then, it is my job. Anyway, have a good weekend wherever you are. Now, here are some photos.

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Symi Colours

Yesterday was Symi animals, today it’s Symi colours.

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