In my early days of Expat living the fun was in the sun, cheap beer, BBQs and just chilling out. I call it the honeymoon period. The “I did it, I moved, I live here” phase and it is great, in fact it is euphoric.

Then one day, but don’t worry it does not happen too early, a degree of reality eventually kicks in and you start sorting out NIEs, Residencia, etc. The dreaded brown envelopes are still ominous by their absence (sometimes its great not having a daily post service) but you do have to consider income tax. So, having vaguely promised to blog on tax in my last blog, here goes.

Let us get the boring facts out of the way first. If you live here in Spain as a full time resident, more than 183 days per year, so this is your ‘centre of economic interest’ (I would love to have that job of dreaming up those phrases, problem is I do not want to live in Brussels) then you should make a tax declaration here. But there is some good news if you hail from a country with a double taxation treaty with Spain (and many do including the UK) then you don’t have to pay tax twice and you can declare here (Sorry but if you have a UK Government pension you have to pay tax in Gordon Brown land – tough luck!)

OK when you have done the administration side of things (via the UK Tax FD9 form), and extricated yourself from the UK tax system, it is time to declare in Spain – now the fun begins!

When you have acquired your Spanish bank special tax statements, any UK P60s, and the latest Dean Koontz novel (well you have to have something to read whilst you are waiting, never read him? check him out…) you are ready to hit the Spanish tax office. Get an appointment (or get two Dean Koontzs) take all of your papers (you already know that right?) and off you go.

When it is your turn, pray you do not get the over zealous ‘make em pay’ functionario, (i.e. tax man/women) and go into battle. The Spanish tax system is still quite generous with its allowances for mortgages, children, disabilities, old age and the goldfish (only joking) and you might be surprised. I am convinced that they only take part of my shirt and not the whole garment a la Gordon Brown.

The main thing is why not enjoy the experience? And more importantly the satisfaction when it is done and dusted. The living in Spain experience lasts a lot longer than just the sun and cheap beer. Trust me.