When my father would call me at work, and I was unavailable because I was in a meeting, he would often later remark “You must spend half your life in meetings.” The truth was, more than half! I believe that meetings can be a valuable investment of time or a waste of time. But some meetings can be consequential for you. Not only work-related meetings, but those that happen as part of your life: a meeting with a bank manager, a lawyer, a doctor, or even a partner to decide that a relationship or a marriage is over.
If you were to choose two meetings in your life that had momentous consequences for you, which ones would you select? And, if you were to reflect on those meetings, I wonder if you might find that they share some similarities? Meetings that may have mirrored each other in some way. That’s exactly what was about to happen to me.
Patrick (big legs) continued at pace with the farmhouse renovations. I was spending money like water, courtesy of the equity of my house sale in the UK. I have always been hopeless at managing my own finances, so writing a ‘Money Expert Advice’ column would definitely not be my forte! The irony was that managing billions of pounds of a country’s tax revenues, I could do very well.
Back at the farmhouse, Patrick was now working with ‘The Fox’, a skilled craftsman, and as cunning as (you know the type). The new bathroom had been installed, and the queen finally had his throne – a toilet – so it was goodbye to the days of doing what bears do!
As the new kitchen units and appliances were being fitted, the phone rang. It was a call from the previous occupants of the farmhouse, Paul and Martyn. They informed me that our lawyer, advogada, wanted to see us urgently at her office in Monchique. I thought ‘strange’ but agreed to the arrangements.
The lawyer in question was a well-known character in Monchique, known to all and feared by some. She was superb at her job and straightforward in her advice. We arrived separately for the meeting and awaited our invitation to enter her office. As I sat alone, on a red leather sofa, nervous, fidgeting, and thinking about what this meeting could mean for me in a foreign country. A sudden sense of dread fell over me.
It was then that I was suddenly transported back to a work meeting in London from a few years earlier. Out of the blue, I was asked to represent the UK’s Tax Authority at a meeting with the Financial Secretary to the Treasury, David Gauke MP. As I sat alone, on a red leather sofa, feeling anxious and clammy in my shirt and tie, I couldn’t help but think about what this meeting could mean for me in the plush offices of the UK’s Treasury building. A sudden sense of dread fell over me.
At this point, I want to share something important with you. You know those TV programmes about relocating abroad, like “A Place in the Sun”, which provide sound advice on what to do and avoid during the relocation process? Well, I now have to confess that I had done everything that I shouldn’t have!
So, here we go – are you sitting comfortably, perhaps with a stiff drink? I had resigned from my job, emigrated to Portugal, and moved into a farmhouse on a mountain that I didn’t actually own. To make matters worse, I had already spent tens of thousands of euros renovating the property! I had foolishly believed that having a ‘promissory contract’ was sufficient and purchasing the house would be a mere formality. I was about to find out how wrong I could be.
We were summoned into the lawyer’s office, and the air was thick with tension. Her expression was of pessimism as she delivered the crushing news: significant alterations had been made to the house that were illegal, and there was no habitation licence. This meant that the house purchase could not take place, and my dreams were crumbling before me. I sat at the table, reeling in disbelief and struggling to grasp the full impact of the situation.
What made matters worse was the substantial amount of money I had already poured into renovating the property. As I shared what I had done, the lawyer’s gaze fixed on me, a mix of shock and pity in her eyes. She explained that the likelihood of ever legalising the property was slim to none. Although there was an option for extensive alterations, there was no certainty of success. The future I had envisioned was slipping away, and I felt lost about what to do next.
Then my thoughts drifted back to the earlier meeting in London, where I was tasked with leading a project to restore the UK’s Tax Authority’s customer service levels for 46 million customers. The goal was to also improve the Department’s negative media coverage from outlets like BBC TV news, The Mail’s front page, and Radio 4’s ‘Money Box’ programme.
I successfully delivered that project by collaborating with a talented team and reporting to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and it became the highlight of my career. I reflected that if I had successfully delivered that level of change, I could do the same in the current situation by applying the same approach.
So, I turned to the lawyer and informed her of my decision to proceed with the legal process, demonstrating my commitment by paying an additional deposit. The previous occupants, Paul and Martyn, and I agreed to work together as a team to secure the legalisation of the property. We planned to hire the best architects, builders, electricians, topographers, sound engineers, and other professionals to achieve our shared goal. Although this was a high-risk strategy, I was determined to realise my dream and refused to give up.
I hoped that one day I would return to the lawyer’s office, but the next time it would be for a meeting to complete the purchase of a legalised house.
To be continued…
By Derek Hughes OBE
|| features@portugalresident.com
Derek is a former UK Senior Civil Servant. The late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II awarded him an OBE for Customer Service and Inclusion. The latter was for championing disability equality. He now lives in Monchique, with his partner Marcelino, and teaches at Aljezur International School.
