Professional moaners....

I have made no secret of my desire to retire to the beautiful Greek island of Crete and live out my latter years in sunshine, with the amazing food and a slower lifestyle. I hate the climate in the UK, the greyness and the sheer pressure and grind of daily life.

Although to a certain extent when you aren’t there yet, the grass is always greener on the other side, my guess is that life is definitely better in the Med and although they may not be intrinsically happier, by and large people are healthier and more relaxed despite the ridiculous working hours many put in over the summer months.

Many other Brits (and those intrepid souls from other nations, of course) have clearly felt as I do about living in the land of their birth and have taken the enormous step of emigrating and living somewhere which fits more with their psyche and the way of life they wish to lead. It is not a step to be taken lightly, as it involves leaving your family and friends for a foreign country with new traditional and customs and probably learning to at least a basic level of proficiency a new language. Top that with a different alphabet in Greece, and you are looking at a significant life change. But many have gone ahead and taken the plunge.

I regularly view an expat website for Crete which I believe was set up to help those wishing to emigrate and live there, and provide an information exchange for those who already do so. And the point of this rather rambling introduction to this blog is that the people that use this expat website would appear to be a bunch of whinging moaners unhappy with their lot who bicker about the slightest thing and who, if you choose to take notice of them, would put anyone off going to Crete at first glance.

What is the matter with these people? They are living in Paradise and what’s more, a paradise of their choosing. They have a lifestyle within which they (largely) don’t have to work, have time to indulge their hobbies and presumably enjoy the wonderful food which is grown locally and a climate which mostly eradicates health grumbles such as bronchial difficulties (unless smoking related, of course) and rheumatism. For nine months of the year, the sun shines in a reassuringly dependable way and for quite a bit of the winter it is amazingly mild. Yet they complain.

Perhaps it’s a British disease, being a professional complainer? It is very tempting to post an answer on this website which says “If you don’t like it, then go back to where you came from” but of course the likelihood is that they can’t. The astronomical cost of housing in the UK probably prohibits it, and life is still more expensive here even though prices in Greece have caught up in some aspects of life such as petrol and the supermarket.

I suspect these people retired in their early fifties or maybe even sooner on reduced pensions (because they took them early) which gave them a fantastic lifestyle in southern Europe 15 or 20 years ago, but which has now been eroded by falling exchange rates, the recession generally and rising prices whilst their pensions have stayed relatively stagnant or increased only by UK inflation rates which are lower than those for most of Europe (Germany possibly excepted). So now they’re hard up, having to tighten their belts and blaming anyone but themselves.

It’s also a fact that the expat community is small and tight knit, an advantage when you need expertise or assistance from someone that speaks your language but a distinct disadvantage when it comes to integration into a new country and broadening your mind, as small groups within wider cultures become cliquey and very parochial. I have never forgotten an incident about 8 years ago when we bought our house, speaking to an English couple that owned a business in Crete (but obviously hated it) who said to me “Well, you don’t have to mix with the locals you know. There’s plenty of Brits around”! I was staggered; why wouldn’t I want to mix with local people, integrate myself with their society and learn their language? I love their country enough to want to live there, and it’s almost a duty to do those things. If you don’t, you are as bad as immigrants to this country who keep within their own communities, don’t learn English but take our benefits and healthcare. We all criticise those people, where ever they are from, and this couple were doing exactly the same thing; I bet they would have been the first to criticise if their position was reversed.

It is a salutary lesson that although The Hubby and I want to retire early we are determined that we will have a good income upon which to do so, so that we can enjoy life without watching the pennies too much. It simply isn’t realistic to expect to live a good life as a couple on 800 euros per month including all your living expenses and taxes which some of these people want to do – it isn’t the 1980s anymore! Going out and socialising costs money as does indulging in hobbies, even relatively solitary and sedate ones such as gardening, sewing or cooking. What is the point of loads of free time and early retirement if you have to restrict your social life to once a week and then only one or two drinks? You need contingency money and also a financial comfort blanket in case of ill heath or emergencies.

You must also embrace your new country just as much as you would embrace life within your village or town in England. Gaining new friends and experiences keeps your mind and body active and keeps life fresh and interesting. What is the point in moving somewhere else just to stagnate and be as miserable as you would have been in England?

We have a medium term plan to get there, and I definitely will not degenerate into an expat moaner (I am currently an in-pat moaner, if there is such a thing). My expectations are realistic, and I will plan, plan, plan and plan again to ensure I’ve got the money and decisions right (The Hubby will probably agree with me, although I will consult him!). The earliest I can do it is 2 ½ years’ time, and it can’t come soon enough.

Several more sleeps……

The sun has got his hat on, hip hip hip hooray!

The sun is shining as I write this (although probably not by the time you read it!)

For me, the world always looks better when the sun shines, which is more than can be said for the human population. Lobster pink tans, cropped tops two sizes too small and mini skirts which are really just wide belts worn by girls with thighs the size of tree trunks are just some of the delights which await us on sunny days in the city. Either that or the ridiculously named ‘city shorts’ which just look like a pair of suit trousers that have been cut off just below the crutch by a reject from fashion school.

I love the sun! The two things I hate most in the world (outside of baseball caps, crap reality TV, offal and rats) are being cold and being wet. So when the sun shines, I am in my element.

The other week we had a few days of the temperature in the high twenties. That’s relatively mild by some European standards, but quite warm for the UK.

“Oh, isn’t it hot? Too much for me!”

“I hate this heat. So muggy!”

“Phew! What a scorcher!” (‘The Sun’ – predictably)

“Well, this is like being in Africa.”

Just a few of the fatuous and stupid remarks I heard! What’s wrong with the British? We spend all of our time moaning about how chilly it is (‘chilly’ being about minus ten) and how much it rains, and at the first gleam of a sunbeam everyone is moaning it’s too hot!

Brits are, of course, famous for their obsession with the weather and for their world renowned wet and temperate climate. The rest of Europe sees it as something of a laughing matter, but most Brits take the weather extremely seriously and we are all guilty of poring over the forecast before a day out and agonising about what to wear (me included). And that’s because it’s so bloody unreliable and changeable.

This morning, for example, when I left the house for work it was misty, damp and rather nippy (I had goose pimples and my car thermometer said twelve degrees!). By the time I got up to London an hour later, the sun was out and it was 20 degrees. In between, we had grey skies which looked like they were about to dump Noah’s flood on us, but actually never did. You just don’t know what to expect or what to wear. So, we are obsessed.

I know global warming is supposedly well on its way and means wetter and warmer weather, and it seems reckless to say I don’t care. I know some crops and populations will suffer, but there will be advantageous changes too. And I like the sun! I would be happy if it shone every day of the year and it was summer for the whole twelve months. Some respite from the searing heat of a forty degree August would be nice, but nothing lower than fifteen degrees even in February, please.

Even when you feel low, the sun makes you smile. It is a natural human instinct to turn your face to the light and warmth, and we should relish it and learn to manage our changing world rather than complain about it. And we should harness the energy and feelgood factor the sun brings, because overall, it makes the world a better place.