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 Apart from the fact the old one was out of date, and I’ve lived in Greece for 17 years and should have done it ones ago, I want to make myself as securely rooted here as possible because of the great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.

Meanwhile, elsewhere

I’m not here. I am somewhere else and have left a couple of posts for you, though I shall be back by the time the Saturday one pops up. Let’s start yesterday, which is when I am writing this, early in the morning of course, because of the early night/early morning routine brought about by the warm weather. It was 36 in the courtyard yesterday at 4 pm, and not much cooler in the house, so the early mornings are the time to get up and get things done, which is how I like to work anyway. I am having a day off, no long walk, no writing, just a couple of blog posts and then a morning sitting around waiting for the boat and packing a few things into a bag ready for a night at the Savoy. Sadly, not as grand as it sounds, but still, a reasonably priced bed for the night, especially at this time of year here everywhere else in Rhodes new town worth its salt seems to be at least €90.00 or €100,00 plus.

I can’t remember if I told you, but I picked up my Greek driving license the other day. I put in the paperwork in March, and it’s probably been sitting in the KEP office for a couple of months, but I kept forgetting about it. I was surprised it came through at all. My old licence was a paper one (European remake, not the original big green thing), it had my ancient address in Brighton on it from 17 years ago. The name on it was the shortened version of my third name, the name my friends use, and a name that doesn’t appear on my birth certificate, which was needed as proof of who I am when changing the document. Actually, my birth cert does have that half-name on it, but then there’s a second cert with the name expanded to Tobias and no mention of the Toby. Trying to explain that to any kind of authority is a pain, which is why I go by the name that appears first on the thing, James, which is, after all, my real first name. So, with all that going on, the age of the existing document which, apparently, I should have sent back ears ago, and the fact that I don’t have an address as such… You know. I was surprised. But the ladies at the KEP office did a good job in understanding all that, and Lo! There came a plastic, Greek, European card with my photo and signature, and I am legally able to drive again.

What was interesting was that I am no longer allowed to drive long-wheel-based vehicles with trailers. I never knew I could, let alone was allowed to. I am, though, still fine for the standard things like cars and small vans, not that I intend ever to drive again, and I can still drive any size motorbike. I did my stages one and two motorbike test back in London in 1867 or something and used to drive a 500 cc thing around town when I worked there. I always wanted one of those 550 cc machines that couriers drive (or drove, it’s been a long time), but the insurance was too high even then. I’m pleased to say I never had an accident on a bike that was my fault. I got bumped off a couple of times at traffic lights by car drivers not noticing this great lump of metal and flesh three feet in front of their noses, but nothing major. I don’t intend to drive or even get on the back of a motor boke ever again, so I’m not worried, but it’s another form of legal proof of who I am, and there’s a reason I wanted it, which I will explain tomorrow. Meanwhile, I am still elsewhere and by now, should be at my early appointment in Rhodes having shopped yesterday and taken some time off.

Panoramic insomnia

I am heading off to Rhodes today, just for one night as I have an early appointment on Friday. The Sebeco at 11.45 going over and the Blue Star at 16:00 on Friday coming back. A night at the Savoy (cos it’s cheaper than the other ones), some shopping and hanging out, and that’s that. I was up the road yesterday after four hours’ sleep, and felt a bit panoramic, so here are a couple of shots I took. They should enlarge (but I am not sure) otherwise they are a bit narrow.

And if you were wondering about the lack of sleep, I put it down to heat and mosquitoes, and the general excitement of being semi-retired and not having to get up early. So I get up early. Bed on Wednesday night at 20:30, awake again at 23:00 thinking it’s a bit soon to be getting up for the next day. Asleep again until 01.30 when I finally gave up and got to work. Neil’s suffering the same, but I actually feel surprisingly good on it, though I do drift off after lunch and go to bed very early. Not sure it will be these same in Rhodes as I will have air conditioning – the sound of which will probably keep me awake anyway.

If you don’t hear from me for the next couple of days, or there are only photos, it is because I am away and have much to do before the family arrive next week.

Humidity and water

It was very humid yesterday morning as I sat out on damp chairs on the balcony. The rail was dripping and, when the sun came up, you could see why. Cloud across the mountains of turkey, some across Nimos, and you could even smell the humidity in the air. This was after a very warm evening the day before.

Talking of humidity (water), our plumbing has started doing another strange thing. I noticed a drip from the flat-roof overflow on Sunday night. Only a very small one, but still, it was precious water coming from somewhere. I investigated and found it came from the trough beneath the plastic water tank on the bathroom roof. Why there is a trough there in the first place is another mystery, it’s not as of we keep sheep on the bathroom roof – not since the last time – but it’s a three-by-1.5 foot concrete thing and, presumably, served some purpose.

Anyway, the water was trickling from there, across the roof and into the overflow. Now then, when the, um, expert plumbers put in the black plastic tank, they put it directly on top of some black plastic pipes. There was no other way of doing it without rerouting the pipes which in their ‘expertness’ they decided not to do. Now there’s 500 litres of water in the tank (500 kilos, or half a ton), my guess is that it’s pressing down and the heat has made the pipes brittle and caused a split, and that’s why the water is leaking out. One day, the pipe will crack completely, and we’ll have a waterfall. But, as this isn’t coming from our tank but from one of the pipes that does lord-knows-what and goes to anyone’s-guess, and it’s not causing the pump to run, I’m leaving it until there’s another of the landlord’s, um, experts doing something up there. Meanwhile, it stopped on Monday night and dried up, only to start again on Tuesday morning. All very odd, no rhyme or reason, but then what else do we expect from this place’s water system?

We’re Air B&B now

Sunday night saw the Symi Shrimp Festival in the village square which meant, for us, a disturbed night with children ringing our doorbell at midnight, and playing with stones in the street outside. The music didn’t bother me, it sent me to sleep, but the bell thing gets to be a pain after a while. We ignore it now, so if you’re planning to come and visit us, let us know first. By the looks of the square the next morning, a good time was had by all.

I found my camera the other day and used it to get some distant shots of the fun being had at sea. The large cruise ships, people on that water-boot-thing and on jet skis off Nos, people at Petallo… It’s a good zoom for catching what’s going on that my phone wouldn’t get. It’s also good for catching photos of birds when they stay still.

We were on the balcony the other day, with the breeze coming up from the sea and with it, came any number of insects. At least, I assume that’s what the birds were after. There was a flock of sparrows going mad, and a flock of swallows darting around and coming very close to the house. One even came inside, a young one I think, and having flown in through one of the open windows or doors, then decided the only way out was through the oxeye (closed). I opened the side window to the room and left it alone, and a few minutes later, another swallow flew in, and when I looked, both had gone. I assume it was mum or dad come to pick up the naughty teenager and take it home for its insect tea. That’s why I decided we were for a time, an air B&B – Air Bird and Board. At the same time, we also saw our local blue rock thrush and a younger kestrel hanging on the thermals just overhead, presumably waiting for a younger swallow to swallow.