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Portuguese Red Tape

I have decided that I cant take much more of Portugal. I have decided to leave. It will take some time to re-organise my affairs, and work out where to base my office in the future, but the stress of living in this country is getting to me.

The Algarve may be a great place to retire to, but if you need to do business here, or get involved in the way things work then life can be a nightmare.

I want to sell my house. Normally, I would need to produce a set of deeds to show I own the place, and to clarify exactly what it is I do own. Normally one would simply go to a drawer, or to the bank, and get them out, show them to an estate agent, who would make a copy of the relevant bits, and that would be that.

In Portugal it's not so simple. Here is the list my local friendly estate agency has given me of the documents they need.

Certidao Registo: This is the basic land registry document showing the status of the property and where it sits within the scheme of things.
Caderneta urbana: This document shows the land which is classed as urban, and shows (hopefully) your house sitting on that correct classification.
Caderneta rustica: This shows the rest of the land; the garden, fruit trees, maybe the threshing ground for the grain, and so on.
Licenca de habitacao: Habitation license, to prove you have the right to live in the building.
Registo de sociedade: Heck, I dont know what that is. And there is one more, which I cant even read.
Oh yes, and then there is the energy certificate. The last time I got one of those the guy made one for me without even bothering to come and see the property. He knew it was rubbish, I knew it was rubbish, the purchaser knew it was rubbish, and so did the bank manager, but it cost me €360.
I also had to get someone to look at all these forms and make a digest of them. In short, copying them all out again. This cost me a further €450. Yet another total waste of money.

I ask you; do we need all this?

Never mind something like the electricity supply going down two or three times a week, let get onto some disarmingly simple.

I want to see my telephone bill. It used to be printed on a piece of paper that was sent to me each month and I could check the numbers I'd dialled. Now things have improved. My bill no longer shows the complete narrative, I have to look it up online. I dont mind that, but I would expect to be able to type in my name and customer number and the system should allow me to create a username and password. But this is Portugal.

Are you ready?

I go to the company office and complain I have no narrative of calls made. I'm told I can see this online, but the lady will need to set this up. Oh good, I dont have to do it. How nice? Except that she has to write to the company to tell them I want to see my bill. They will then write to me, and give me a magic number.

Four weeks later this magic number arrives. I try to enter it into the login section of the telephone company website but it rejects my attempts. I therefore drive over to the office again. It's twenty miles away, so that is a forty mile round trip using up a gallon of petrol and wasting an hour of my morning. The lady tells me the details are now out of date. They auto-destroy after fifteen days. She tells me she will write again to the company and ask them to send me out another magic number. When I receive it I must immediately email it to her, and she will validate it. She will then send something to me. I'm not yet sure quite what it is she will send me, but when it arrives I can possibly, just possibly, type it into the website and set up a password and username. On the other hand, I wouldn't bank on it. In the meantime I still dont know what calls I am being billed for.

Honestly folks, I simply cant cope with much more of this crap. I thought I had a life to lead. It's about half past four each day before I can get started after going through all this nonsense. It really is time to move somewhere sane.

john

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