Monthly Archives: April 2014

“But why Turkey…..?”

“But Turkey…? Why Turkey?” So many people have asked that question when we’ve told them about our plans.

You might think it would be easy to bash out a few glib paragraphs and a couple of anecdotes to explain the background, but I’ve actually found myself staring at a blank page for half an hour.

The reason? Well, I suppose it’s because there are at least a dozen different answers – and marshalling them into some sort of order is something of a challenge. Like everything, it’s probably best to start at the beginning.

I suppose it began as a slow but nevertheless powerful realisation that, professionally at least, we were unhappy because we didn’t seem to have any real direction or goal. Neither of us is particularly ambitious and we’ve never had any desire to grow an empire; just the same, we were finding ourselves working harder and harder just to stand still.

Although it’s changing fast, the PR market is also undeniably overcrowded, flooded both by journalists being made redundant as the internet continues to offer new channels for news and information and by universities churning out energetic, bright young things who wake up every morning eager to wrestle the PR tiger.

Of course, many would find dramatic and rapid change exciting and, if you don’t mind endless networking and late nights in the office, if you have an encyclopaedic grasp of the latest social media platforms and the stamina of the Duracell bunny, then the Yorkshire communications industry can get you all the things in life we’re told we need.

The thing is, we realised “things” are not necessarily what we want. Instead we want a life lived, not an existence – and, almost immediately, we began to feel a little like misfits. Put another way, we realised we were no longer enjoying a ride which was taking us somewhere we didn’t really want to go – so much so the desire to get off became overwhelming.

So why Turkey? Actually, Turkey wasn’t the first choice – for me, at least. After an exploratory trip last year, Africa seemed to offer more opportunity and we even worked with UKTI to identify potential markets which needed our skills and expertise.

In the end, obstacles presented by distance and the risks posed by volatile political and religious situations persuaded us to reconsider. Spain and Italy – where we have family – were discarded in light of the turmoil and uncertainty over the Euro. So, having visited Turkey and fallen in love with its beautiful Mediterranean coast, it was our next target.

We found a relaxed and easy-going culture, low cost of living, affordable property, potential for work with companies in an expanding tourism sector in a country identified as one of the world’s fastest-growing economies. Turkey moved straight to the top of the list and work resumed with UKTI to establish how we could adapt our offer to match possible demand. As a result, Dolphin International Communications is finally launched this week – a name chosen to reflect both our new Mediterranean location and the fact we’re still only a “click” away for clients who have opted to stay with us.

Of course, some have told us we’re mad. Others seem convinced we’re heading for some sort of war zone or a backward nation stuck in the 1930s. It’s true we might not be able to buy ham or sausages unless they’re “under the counter”, the power goes off pretty regularly and most of the TV will be unintelligible (although I’m actually looking forward to learning a new language).But if you’ve watched The Hobbit, you’ll have seen Bilbo leaving the detritus of a meticulously-organised life behind him as he runs after Gandalf and the dwarves, shouting: “I’m going on an adventure!”

There’s no doubt there will be challenges ahead, some involving things we don’t even know about yet. Just the same, inside, I’m with Bilbo.

SP

Overwhelmed by ‘Stuff’

I’ve been itching to crack on with packing up, sorting out and/or disposing of our belongings.
The idea is that we will take as little as possible with us – mainly clothes and personal items. Some things will be stored at my stepfather’s; some sent via courier later in the year.
I’ve booked the maximum amount of allowable luggage with the airline – nine cases in total, each to weigh no more than 22kg. In theory, that sounded like quite a lot.
However, having just packed one of my bags, I’m no longer so confident. I hardly seem to have made a dent in my own bits and pieces, let alone anyone else’s. I’m telling myself that it will be fine and we’ve got a second run at it with the final move in June.
I’m also having to stop myself crazily filling all nine cases so that I feel I’ve achieved something; that way, I’ll either end up taking things I don’t need or will have to live without vital possessions until we go.
It makes you think, though, about how much ‘stuff’ we accumulate over the years. The trinkets we keep because they mean something or “just in case” they prove useful.
Clearing out your life in such a way as we are makes you look long and hard at everything, and there are tough decisions to be made.
Some aren’t.
The hand-made birthday cards the children gave us when they were little? The baby books we kept to record every detail of their first years? Easy. Put them to one side to keep in storage.
Those beautiful pink satin shoes I fell in love with but which I’ve never worn because they’re slightly too high and a little too big? Pop them on an auction site; if they don’t sell, they go to charity.
But what about my wedding dress, for example, which lies in the loft in its clear plastic protector? What happens to that?
I’ll never wear it again. A few days shy of our 22nd anniversary and I’ve never even got round to having it cleaned – so even if it wasn’t hopelessly out of fashion, I can’t sell it. It’s not the most practical thing to store – and why, anyway? What will I ever do with it?
But there’s a lot of emotion, so many happy memories tied up in that confection of satin and lace. It feels wrong to say: “Bin it.”
Someone who has already been through this process told me to be ruthless. To remember that all my memories and associations with this ornament or that picture are in my mind, safe for ever. That it might seem a waste to part with household items and then buy replacements once we’re there, but it’s likely to work out cheaper than bringing it all with us and paying for the extra weight.
I’m trying to remember this, as we begin the process of picking over some 24 years of accumulated ‘stuff’. But with just under four weeks until Round 1 of The Big Move, I can’t help feeling I’ll still be buried under a mountain of books, bedding and bric-a-brac when the airport taxi arrives at the door.

RP

Does Anyone Know What’s Happening?

It’s a time of uncertainty for those who want to become residents of Turkey.

It was announced some time ago that new regulations would come into force around April 11 and that everyone making a first application would have to apply in their own country. So far, we understood.

But this did pose challenges. For example, to obtain residency you need to show proof of having somewhere to live – a rental agreement or tapu (property deeds). Under the proposed system, rather than simply travelling to Turkey on a tourist visa, finding somewhere to hang your hat and then popping down to the Passport Polis (as many people do) you’d have to come back to the UK and hang around for up to 90 days. Surely there was a way of working round this?

Unfortunately, the Turkish Consulate had no answer to this or any other of the questions those of us planning to move had (and still have). They were seemingly unaware of the changes and simply told everyone they still had to apply in Turkey as usual, while the Turkish authorities said people should make appointments at the Consulate.

The result was a lot of wannabe ex-pats running around like headless chickens trying to find out what on earth was going on, what they were supposed to do and when they were supposed to do it.

Come D-Day and some polis stations refused new applications for a while, which caused particular problems for those on tourist visas about to expire. It was announced there’d be a delay before the changes were introduced; then that there’d be a “transition period”.

So does that mean business as usual for now? Er, no. One British applicant reports that some of the new requirements are now in force, such as having to provide a translated copy of your passport. But someone else says their local polis aren’t bothering with that bit.

Official notification has been woefully lacking and the upshot is that we’re all as much in the dark as ever. Which is why I’m glad I got my own residency sorted out a couple of months ago.

But we still need to sort out two other members of the family, and I’m not sure what to do for the best. My ‘final’ flight out is booked, and I need to arrange theirs too. Do I just go ahead and trust that they’ll still be able to apply in Fethiye when the time comes? What if they can’t and have to come back again to apply in London – missing most of the summer and with nowhere to live? Do we hang on to see what happens next and run the risk of them not getting a flight around our chosen dates?

It’s hugely frustrating but very typical of the country we want to call home. Disorganisation, miscommunication and lack of information are very definitely its bureaucratic strong points.

Time to grit our teeth and remind ourselves – this is life in Türkiye….

RP

 

The Calm Before The Storm

We’ve got ages until we move. It’s a good – ooh, just under three months. Plenty of time to get everything sorted out. Let’s check the calendar – yep, roughly 11 weeks.

Hang on. Eleven weeks? That’s nothing! There’s the cats’ transport to book. We need to decide what we’re going to take, sell and give away, and start packing accordingly. I have to set up the mail forwarding, send out change-of-address notifications….. I’ll NEVER be done in time.

This is pretty much the state of my mind right now, veering between calm confidence and blind panic. We just want to get on with it, really. Once our worldly goods start going into boxes, our son’s new flat or to their new owners, I’ll feel like we’re getting somewhere.

Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We’ve got an American student arriving this weekend for two weeks – the return leg of my daughter’s school exchange – so we need to keep things pretty much normal for her.

Which means there’s not a lot I can do until the end of April, except maybe offload a few trinkets to the charity shop or local auction site. Which means by the time we can get on, there’ll only be around eight weeks left before we go, and that really isn’t any time at all.

In among all this, we’re trying to keep the business ticking over, our daughter has GCSEs to do and there’s the usual domestic chores to keep on top of.

I guess we’ll get there, one way or another. In just under three months, I’ll be sitting on our balcony in the sunshine and all this will feel like a distant memory,

Hang on. Just under three months? That’s roughly 11 weeks……

RP