The British Embassy has just issued an update about the new Turkish health insurance regulations in relation to British emigreys. Essentially, we don’t have to join the scheme if we don’t want to. A storm in a çay cup?
Greats of Great Britain
Old pal Philip and his partner David are cheesemongers in St Margarets, Southwest London, just across Old Father Thames from Richmond. Their pongy shop is called Yellowwedge Cheese and it’s weathering the recessionary storm remarkably well considering. If you’re in the area pop in and sample their smelly wares. Philip also writes an excellent food blog called What’s for Tea Tonight, Dear?
Yellowwedge was voted best new retailer at the British Cheese Awards 2008, named in The Times Top 10 cheese shops in Britain for 2010 and 2011, and listed in the top 5 cheese shops in Britain in 2011 by lovefood.com. Gongs are good. It’s a great way to raise the profile and earn a wedge. Now they’ve entered their cheese emporium into the Great Exhibition Awards with Greats of Great Britain. They need all the votes they can get so why not do them a small favour?
Need persuasion? Maybe this will convince you:
Health Warning
I’m happy to report that it seems our man in Ankara has stepped up to the plate about the mandatory health insurance scheme for expats. Candid conversations in the corridors of power have resulted in a postponement of the scheme for the time being. According to the Voices Newspaper, we can all expect an official letter in the post (my face is straight as I type) about the scheme after which we will have a month to register. Panic over.
There are still a few other issues to work though like what residents who aren’t really residents because they actually reside in Blighty are to do, whether people with private health insurance can opt out and whether those who are retired (according to their permits) are exempt. The last is the most interesting point as I suspect most emigreys here are registered as retired regardless of their age (I know we are). It’ll all come out in the wash in the end.
Lights, Camera, Action
I’ve been a big fan of the Turkish Travel Blog for quite a while. Natalie works bloody hard to bring her readers the best that the Aegean and Mediterranean coasts of Turkey have to offer. Natalie travels extensively to give a personal touch to her posts. Believe me, this isn’t true of some travel sites which can be based on (sometimes inaccurate) second and third hand experiences. Been there, done that? Natalie has. She bought the T-shirt.
Natalie interviewed me as part of the book tour. It’s my fourth interview and makes me feel like a renascent Hollywood star of yesteryear doing the studio rounds to promote my latest must-see comeback flick. I’m ready for my close up, Mr DeMille (the oft misquoted line from Sunset Boulevard).
Check out my chat with Nat.
Break a Leg
I’ll be banging on about my book ad nauseum at the Polari Literary Salon at London’s Royal Festival Hall on the 6th February 2012. All my profit and more has gone on paying for the bloody airfare. I suppose you have speculate to accumulate. Anyone who has read the book and likes it, please add a review to Amazon (if you haven’t already). Every little helps, as they say in the Tesco’s advert.
For details about the event check Time Out online. To buy tickets check out the Southbank Website.
Resident Aliens
After much brouhaha and faffing about, th
e Turkish Government will finally introduce new visa requirements on the 1st February. Essentially, this means that foreigners entering Turkey on a tourist visa can only stay for a maximum of 90 days in any 180 day period. Anyone staying longer will have to apply for a residency permit.
The permit process is not particularly onerous or expensive but it is a tiresome paper chase of red tape. It can be weeks before you finally get your mitts on the precious little blue book (that looks like it’s been knocked up by a child in a shed). Patience is needed. After years of encouraging foreigners to spend their readies and buy their dream holiday home, Turkey will not allow them to enjoy the fruits of their investment for more than 3 months at a time without becoming residents of a country they don’t reside in.
There’s a more significant change that is rocketing blood pressures into orbit. Spleens are being vented all over the forums. According to an article in the Land of Lights, the Turkish Parliament has passed a law requiring all expats with a residency permit exceeding twelve months to join the Turkish National Health Scheme. The cost will be a flat fee of 212 Lira per month each. This week’s special offers are two-for-one for married couples and children under 18 get in free. Those living in sin or have done the in-sickness-and-in-health thing differently (civil partnerships, for example) needn’t apply. Also, as with all the best health insurance policies, pre-existing conditions will not be covered. So it’s just tough if you’re a bit old and slightly doddery, with a touch of arthritis and spot of hypertension. That’ll be many expats then. Best not cancel your private insurance just yet.
The article also states that, while the scheme isn’t up and running yet, everyone is required to register by the end of this month. Failure to do so will attract a hefty fine. If this is the case, how come this crept up and caught us awares? What’s our man in Bodrum (actually, our woman) been doing? Sod all as usual.
I’m a great supporter of national health care, free at point of delivery and available to all. Apparently, the fee is the same for everyone, Turk and expat alike. I find this difficult to believe as 212 lira is a lot of dosh to most Turks I know. We’re happy to do our bit and pay our dues but I’m not keen on any scheme that isn’t linked to the ability to pay. As the cost of residency for Brits dropped dramatically last year, is this a case of robbing Peter to pay Paul?
As with most things the devil will be in the detail. The forums are hot with gossip and hearsay, outrage, resignation, argument and counter-argument. I’ll let the dust settle before I decide what to do. I’d still like something from the Honorary Consul, though. I won’t be holding my breath.
Shaken, Not Stirred
Ex-spook, Linda (she denies it, but I know she was), gave up her 007 career at the Pentagon and settled in the Low Countries to write about life and fret about global warming. If my house was fifty feet below sea level, I’d fret too. Linda is a prolific blogger, accomplished writer and published author. She’s also an all-round good liberal egg with the all the right values and a huge heart. Linda has been a great supporter of my blog virtually from the outset. She wrote an incredible review of my book and, best of all, I didn’t have to bribe her. This just goes to prove you can’t wet the beak of the honourable. In addition to the review, she’s written a post Pansies, Oh So Successfully Perked on Adventures in Expatland. Read it here.
Jack Frost
It’s bleedin’ freezin’. As night time temperatures plummeted, Liam extracted his Dennis the Menace jim-jams from the bottom of the wardrobe, unrolled the woolly socks, re-commissioned the hot water bottle and upped the tog with an extra duvet on the bed. It’s icy times like this when I most appreciate not sleeping alone. As night progresses, we weave together, limbs entwined like a French plait, sometimes opting for periods of alternate spooning.
Come sweaty August nights, it’ll be a different story entirely. We’ll roll to opposite sides of the bed in a fruitless attempt to cool our clammy old hides.
Trailer Trash
When I planned my virtual tour, I knew the book would have to take centre stage. There would be little point if it didn’t. But I didn’t want to just bang on about it and do the hard sell. People would get bored and simply switch channels. I know I would. I had to find a theme, something to maintain interest. I also wanted to say something related to the people that have kindly let me loose on their blogs. A theme gradually emerged: me. My favourite subject.
Today’s post is on Helen’s European Journey. Elegant Helen is wander-lusting gypsy-like across Europe (well, so far across Iberia – give ‘em time) in a travelling caravan with hunky husband and two pretty pussies in tow. So, folks, I give you… me and caravans. Not the dusty camel trains of antiquity hauling exotic goods along the ancient Silk Road from China to Anatolia, but the common or garden static metal type of my childhood. It’s a tenuous link, but stay with me.
Over the Helen for Trailer Trash
Jack on the Radio
My publisher, Jo Parfitt, recently interviewed on her Writer’s Abroad Radio Show. Blimey, I felt like a studio starlet – though more minor Rank than major MGM. Jo just chucked me in at the deep end to sink or swim – no rehearsals, no re-takes. I was nervous – lots of ums and arrs. Despite the spluttering I didn’t drown – not too distasteful or disgraceful. Jo also interrogated me for her website. I got these questions in advance so my answers were a tad more considered.
Check out my radio gaga here and my more thoughtful dispatch from the front line here.
Check out what all the fuss is about.
Perking the Pansies 