Partly because I spent ages typing up a post only to lose it somehow. But mostly cause of the freakin’ way things work in Greece.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this country?

How nothing seems to make sense here?

Please tell me… is there another country in the entire world where you don’t receive any kind of notification to pay your car registration? (Don’t answer that, I’m sure that some tiny deep dark forest country in the middle of nowhere doesn’t notify you either.)

Australia made sense.

I’d get a notice to pay my car registration. And I’d get a bill for my rates. A letter to remind me to register my dog’s with the council every year. A letter that it was time to do my taxes, and a letter that it was time to visit my dentist.

Here I get notification from my accountant to pay my self-employed insurance, do my taxes and pay my bill. I get notified to pay my rates. I get notified when my car is due for inspection.

But apparently I have to remember to pay my car registration every year, without any reminder notice.

Ok, maybe I’m a total idiot. Could very well be. I mean, I drive a car, shouldn’t I think of things like that? Well, frankly, no, cause I’m used to receiving notification that car ‘rego’ due!

As a result, I didn’t pay one year, so I had to pay double. Luckily my cousin Zefi told me about it today, so I was able to pay this year’s before December 31 and get fined again.

Seriously, it makes no sense to me. They have an online tax platform in Greece and they keep track of every single cent I make or spend. They have a projection of how much it costs for me to live and I have to show that I make at least that much or I’m in trouble, cause where am I getting the extra money?

Yet, this one thing, they figure I can take care of myself. Oh boy were they wrong. Then again, they were right. They got double out of me.

Zefi had to go through every single year to find where I’d missed a payment. Yes, you read that right. She did it for me cause I’m allergic to this crap.

How does anyone keep track of anything?

I’m really sick of how this country works.

I love living on Paros, but Greece is making me lose my hair.

z

I know some people are sick of me complaining about how things (don’t) work in Greece, they think I should love it here or leave. Fair enough, but here goes again… For the masochists among us.

I’m in Athens. Mainly for the house, which is ALMOST finished but not quite yet. All going well, the last touches will be put in place by Tuesday next week and I can get onto getting the place rented.

Let me tell you about Greek banks and tax matters…

My brother and I are waiting for the building permit for our land at Agia Irini on Paros to be finalized. It was meant to be done by January but there were delays. Now the delay is us.

Why? Well, ’cause we have to sign some paperwork and get it stamped by a justice of the peace or whatever the equivalent for that is in Greece. Easy for me to do. Not so much for Peter in Australia … he could send me a statutory declaration to sign for him, but that is as difficult a job to do from there as it is to get a power of attorney.

So, I thought, I’ll get a SIM registered in his name, attach it to his Greek tax file, organise for an online stat dec giving me permission to sign for him, and done. Easy.

You’d think.

Did I mention that my brother has a bank account in Greece he himself can’t access online, cause in order to do anything (including changing his password) needs a confirmation SMS to be sent to his phone, but they won’t send to international numbers.

99% of businesses in Greece now use Viber to send messages, even the Greek government sends messages in Viber. But not our bank. Oh no. And they can’t possibly accept an overseas phone number for confirmation messages… heaven forbid.

I thought having a pay-by-the-month SIM card for my old mobile in his name, attached to his bank account and his tax file, would solve both problems. When he was in Greece last we went into the bank together and added my name to his account so I can access the account and take care of business for him in Greece. But I can’t register my phone on his account because you can only register one account per telephone number, and I already have my own account at that bank.

I bought a SIM card. Then lost the phone.

It’s in my house somewhere. In a safe place, no doubt. One I’ll never find again. Even after all the sorting I’ve been doing over the last couple of weeks. Seriously… there are only so many places I can hide something in a 50m2 house!

I also don’t remember if I got the SIM in my name or his… but today, having lost the first phone with the new SIM inside, I thought I’d get another SIM for an older phone… I went into the shop today only to be told they can only sell me a SIM in MY name, using my ID card. If my brother wants a SIM he has to come in personally to do it. But he’s in Australia. That doesn’t matter. He has to come in himself.

It’s my brother’s experience all over again:

He goes to a government agency and hands over an envelope with documents.

The girl at the desk says ‘I need a letter of xxx in order to open this envelope’.

He says, ‘The letter is in the envelope.’

She says, ‘I need the letter in order to open the envelope.’

He says, ‘But the letter is IN, the envelope.’

She says, ‘I need the letter in order to open the envelope.’

You can see how successful that discussion was.

I’ve had such a long day today. I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted.

And there’s more but I’m not in the mood for that now.

z