Suitably
girded, I set out this morning to take on Spanish bureaucracy.
First
stop was the Health Centre in my barrio of Poio, where I
hoped to get a Health card entitling me to free medical attention and
almost-free medicines. Things started well:-
Yes,
we do issue the cards here. Every day between 12 and 14.00. Except
Mondays.
Great.
So.
you'll have to come back tomorrow. But first talk to my colleague to
make sure you know what documents to bring.
OK.
This
was speedily done, as I had all the documents with me, and I was soon
back outside, wondering whether to take my morning coffee in the café
next door. Fearing the place would be full of people spewing germs, I
opted for one of my regular wi-fi cafés.
After
my coffee and a read of the papers, I took myself to Pontevedra's
Catastro (Property Registry),
where I wanted to contest the bill I'd received for the
municipal tax on the property in the hills I sold last November.
During the peak years of Spain's phoney boom, this was a frustrating
place to visit. Always packed from the minute it opened, if you
didn't get there within the first half-hour or so, you'd get a number
which clearly wouldn't be called until the clerks clocked off for
lunch. Which meant never, as the numbers went back to zero after
their break. Today was utterly different; instead of a maelstrom of
humanity, there were just three people in front of me. And my ticket
said the average wait was fifteen minutes. In fact, it was clear I
was going to beat this as my number came after less than ten. But it
was just then that one of the three clerks chose to leave for
somewhere outside the office. Almost certainly a nearby café. So I
waited another five minutes before getting to see a woman who could
not have been more helpful. She confirmed that the buyers should have
changed the details and helped me fill in the relevant form
requesting the removal of my name from the register. She even
photocopied my documents and ID, having initially told me I'd have to
go to a nearby copestería to do this myself. Perhaps it was
my charm . . . Anyway, tomorrow it's off to the office – the ORAL –
where the bill is actually paid. Under Spanish law, it seems, two
connected offices aren't allowed to be in the same building.
Talking
of the law . . . My research has confirmed it's not an offence in the
UK to wear earphones while you're driving. Nor will you be fined for
not having two triangles in your boot, or a complete set of bulbs, or
two fluorescent jackets. Or all relevant documents. And probably
several other things as well. For a country which doesn't seem to
place a huge emphasis on safety, Spain goes to town when it comes to
taking a car on the roads. In short, in the last decade it's gone
from one extreme to the other. But maybe it's got something to do
with revenue generation, rather than a real concern for safe driving.
All I know right now is that having earphones on is considered as bad
as using a mobile phone – yes, really! - and that I'll be losing
three points from whatever is the total I have left after a couple of
speeding offences in 2010. Both of which, as you will recall, were a
set-up.
The
Voz de Galicia asked their readers if they thought the
increases in VAT(IVA) brought in this weekend would lead to growth in
the 'submerged market'. Unsurprisingly, 98% of them felt it would.
Especially in their houses, no doubt.
Finally
. . . I've heard it said that school-kids here lug far heavier bags
than elsewhere and this picture in El País seems to endorse
that. In the paper edition, the full bags (cases?) are shown and are
clearly only a tad smaller than airline carry-on cases. A necessity
or just fashion?
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