Carte de Séjour and a French Tax Return

It's May, the beaches are being tarted up for summer visitors, roadworks along Les Sablettes are nearing completion and I have collected my carte de séjour and posted my first tax return.

I've decided to call the weeds in the garden wild flowers and let them have their way. With all the rain last month and now warm sunshine everything is going a little mad.

Wild gladioli ( the purple ones) Who knew there was such a thing?

I love the crazy air plants

Last May I began the online renewal process of my (one year) longterm visa. I finally reached the final stage last week. 

I  received an SMS saying my carte de séjour was ready. Having received all other communication by email or message through the website, I thought it was a scam. Just as well I checked with someone more knowledgeable. 

I had to collect the carte de séjour from the prefecture in Nice. The relevant office is open for an hour and a half each day.  The trip to Nice last Monday involved a train journey and a walk through an area similar to a north London estate but with sunshine and clean streets. I arrived an hour before the opening time, as advised. 

The precious SMS meant that I and other fortunate people were whisked past the never ending queue of hopefuls applying for residency, who come clutching piles of documents day after day, hoping to reach the front.  

We couldn't go in, we were an hour early and of course, it meant another queue. We waited in the midday sun without any shade (don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining, it could have been raining). The Russian behind me (obviously a very important person with multiple phones that kept ringing) had looked at the queue as if to say: there must be another way for me but there wasn’t. He stood behind me trying to edge in front. He remained behind me, obviously he hadn’t come across a seasoned English queuer before.

The never ending queue beside us did continue to move at a snail's pace. Some lucky people went through the doors advancing to the next stage and as I waited a few people did come out but none of them looked happy.  Relief was the most positive emotion shown, frustration and exhaustion more common.

 

The wait was interminable but I’m glad I arrived early. At closing time all remaining in the queue are sent away to come back another day

At one point I thought about fainting but that almost certainly would have put me to the back of the queue!

Eventually at the allotted time, the lucky ones who had a carte de séjour to collect were allowed in.  Just one more hurdle, one more queue. Notices informed us what was required to secure our goal. I realised in a panic that I hadn't printed a vital piece of evidence. 

Can you imagine trying to find a document on your phone in a rush with the thought that if it can't be found by the front of the queue you may have to start again...?  I found it in time, prayed that the charge on my phone would last and finally went to the window which was set at a height to suit the person sitting behind the glass, so not ideal for anyone over five foot two. Clutching, my documents, passport and phone, I was more nervous than before a viva during finals. I handed everything over. The clerk swivelled round in her chair, found my card in one of the myriad of plastic boxes behind her, pulled the card off the paper it was attached to, I signed the paper, she stamped it and pushed my phone, passport, paperwork and precious card towards me.  The next person was at the window before I could scoop it all up.

I admire anyone who could tolerate working in a place like that.

The prefecture is surrounded by huge fences. As far as I can see the only purpose of these is to stop people breaking in to reorganise the system.

This month has also seen my first tax return. The first one has to be paper, sent by post or delivered by hand. I looked on line for the forms and printed off dozens of pages. The whole process is made complicated by the difference in the year end for England and France; tax already paid; some pensions taxable in France, some not. It seemed too complicated to risk getting it wrong. I couldn't have done it without help from an expert: https://www.lbsinfrance.com.

Just as well it was apparently straightforward otherwise I would have found myself printing off more than the twenty-eight pages that my overworked printer produced and I signed. It was a great relief as I posted it  lettre recommandée but sadly, through past experience, I know that even having the best advice available, something will have been missed.

Enough about all that, this is what I've just read:-

The perfect foil to all that bureaucratic nonsense

My own books are all available from Amazon or can be ordered through your favourite bookshop

The Barwell Trilogy

If you have enjoyed reading this and would like to be sent a link when the next episode is published, please contact me on info@jacquelinejames.co.uk and I will add you to the list.

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https://jacquelinejames.co.uk