Oh to be in England now that April’s there, said the poet. I don’t normally miss April in NW Europe, but the weather has not been particularly good here in Greece. In our communal garden we have a lovely Japanese acacia which still hasn’t bloomed. Scrolling through the pics on my mobile, I note that in March last year the tree was already green.
Easter has already been and gone. Today, St Thomas’s Day, marks the end of the season. We have cleaned our Toroni house in anticipation of summer and new furniture.
Not much life in Toroni. Afroditi’s taverna/restaurant, which I have patronised since the mid 80s, moved from in-house cooking to selling pittas and bougatsas last year. Now they seem to have sold the business. It will now be known as Miranda. I think it is going to be more café-bar than restaurant.
A taverna (ταβέρνα) traditionally had an à la carte menu (you order and they cook), whereas an estiatorio (εστιατόριο) was more table d’hôte (the food is already cooked and you choose what’s available). Traditionally, too, the estiatorio was cheaper than the taverna, catering – as it did – for working people having lunch near their place of employment. If you see delights like moussaka and Imam Baldi in front of you, you are likely to be in an estiatorio. Afroditi did both à la carte and table d’hôte to a high standard. Two factors, I believe, lie behind its closing.
The first one is age. The owners are well past retirement age. The second reason is the pricing. Tavernas were fine when Toroni was overrun with affluent Austrians at a time when receipts were either works of fiction or non-existent. But ridiculous price-gouging in the first year of the Euro resulted in the Austrians never returning. To give an example: I communicated to my cousin that if he came, he’d get a beer for €1.59 (500 drachmas – a price that was well above the average in Thessaloniki). In came the Euro and the bar in question was charging €3.95, with a happy hour offer of €2.95. The restaurants were just as greedy.
The Austrian exodus was followed by a few fallow years coupled with the Greek economic crisis. In the last six or seven years, however, Balkan tourism has increased massively. This has been good for hoteliers and minimarkets. Most rooms are self-catering, so most Balkan tourists – lacking the financial wherewithal of our lost Austrians – will avoid the restaurants and opt either to cook at home or go for a gyro. Adding to the restaurants’ problems is tighter government control over receipts. Moreover, 23% VAT means the already overpriced catering becomes exorbitant.
April has also been the month where I had to face up to a potential living hell which I have been avoiding for over five years. Strictly speaking, if you are resident in another country, you are supposed to convert your licence to the host country’s within six months. So, I have been a bad boy. I did begin the process back in 2020, but Covid and illness got in the way, and I put it out of my mind. However, it could not be postponed any longer. My UK driving licence will expire in early June when I reach my biblical three score and ten. Greeks will often pay a driving school to do the business for them. I called a driving school, which quoted €170 for the task.
Anyway, they told me I needed a health test, an eye-test, my original passport, original driving licence, original registration as an EU citizen, and a certificate of permanent residence. All reasonable except for the last document. Why would I need a Βεβαίωση Μόνιμης Κατοικίας when I already possessed a Βεβαίωση Εγγραφής Πολίτη Κράτους Μέλους της Ευρωπαϊκής Ένωσης? The former requires me to be registered with the municipality, while the latter means that I’m registered with the Aliens’ Police. I wasn’t aware of the subtle difference. This meant going to my local ΚΕΠ (Κέντρο Εξυπηρέτησης Πολιτών – Citizens’ Help Centre).
Before that, however, I went to a local GP for the health check-up. The doctor looked at my face to make sure that it matched that of my passport photo, filled in a form, and relieved me of €20. Then I went to an optician’s only to be told I had to go to an ophthalmologist. I made an appointment. A proper eye-test was done, a form completed, and another €20 disappeared.
Armed with these and my documents (except the Βεβαίωση Μόνιμης Κατοικίας), I finally marched into the ΚΕΠ. The first complication was the Britishness of my driving licence. The second complication was that I was an Irish (and EU) citizen with a Brexit driving licence. I gently pointed to the EU flag on my licence. (It was updated in 2017 when the UK was still technically in the EU.) No difference. The Civil Servant turned out to be, unusually for Greece, quite civil, but she had to consult the Ministry of Transport in Athens. This need to refer to Athens for quite mundane matters is something that has always infuriated me, but I kept my temper. Anyway, my passport, driving licence and EU registration doc were scanned and sent to Athens. I was then told they would call me.
I returned the next day to ask if they had any news. None. The following day, however, the lady called me to ask if I was qualified to drive C1 and D1 vehicles. I checked. Yes, I was. Well not any longer; my new licence will not allow me to drive D1 – irrelevant as I have never driven a minibus. She then invited me to the ΚΕΠ to collect some “paravola” (παράβολα). There she gave me five paravola (see 25/008 Greek Word). She then told me that my photos (taken for my Irish passport renewal) were not suitable and that new ones were required. Furthermore, I had to buy a file to house the growing number of papers. On top of all that, there was the unsolved problem of the Βεβαίωση Μόνιμης Κατοικίας. A nightmare visit to the municipality was looming. Fortunately, my heroic wife remembered that I was registered with www.gov.gr AND she remembered my username and password. She applied online yesterday evening (29th April), and the document arrived in my inbox this morning at 8 am. It is still quite common here that what you anticipate as likely to be the most difficult and stressful part of a process turns out to be the easiest.
Today, 30th April, I went to the post office with the five paravola, where I was relieved of €231 + €10 (the PO’s fee for processing the documents). I then bought a folder and returned to the ΚΕΠ. More forms, more signatures. Finally, I was issued with a document that will cover me if I am stopped by the police. I learned by chance on my second or third visit that the ΚΕΠ would process the application. I had been under the impression that I still had to go to a driving school and fork out another €170. Apparently, it will take at least a month. I will get a call from ΚΕΠ when it arrives there.
Costs: Health & Eye tests €40, paravola €241, photos €8. Total €289. The stress? Impossible to put a price on it.
At one point, I considered flying to Britain. To get a new over-70s licence is free + the cost of the eye test. It is valid for three years. I don’t know how long my new Greek licence will be valid for.
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