All very reassuring. I was getting a bit stressed by this.
Things have been made rather sweeter by winning a voucher from the checkout in Eric the Cleric which I immediately parlayed into a bottle of Grant’s Standfast Scottish amber nectah!
As freelance all my working/not working [resting, darlings] life, I have had my tax done by an accountant. Since the termination a/cs of my boatyard biz* in '99 I have had no dealings with the taxman other than an annual Billy Doo telling me what my derisory [all that ‘resting’] pension will be.
- The accountant was very tardy with this. Weeks went by and threatening letters came , from HMRC to me, as the responsible person.
At one point the acnt told HMRC that their building was being rebuilt and all client records were inaccessible in a basement under a building site. When HMRC announced to acnt that he would be fined £300/day from beginning of following week if docs not to hand, suddenly they were.
The tax office in Vire is
From the point where the person is shown striding out, it is all UP A VERY STEEP HILL. I won’t need the WC. I’ll need a defibber.
No ticketing system? Even the Spanish offices which deal with residency applications [are Police stns in fact] dish out tickets. The queues are still in three figs.
Let’s make it 11’s.