We are angry, very angry …

I am writing this on the train en route to Avignon to collect my bike, which has finally been repaired - a faulty fuel pump, if you are interested. John is at home, fuming over a red-hot telephone line.

We arrived home from Roussillon to find a letter from our friend M. Lavielle at the DRIRE. Huzzah! He wanted to see the bike, presumably to check that we had made the relevant modifications. Double huzzah!

Having been so rude about his telephone manner, I must say that M. Lavielle turned out to be charming. There was something distinctly reassuring about his smile and greeting (in English), “Ah, the famous moto!” Indeed, the whole process took about 10 minutes. It would have been even quicker, had Carl Rosner fitted the required plate as proof that the bike’s power had been limited, per French regulations, to 72.1Kw. In the event, M. Lavielle spent 5 minutes fruitlessly poking about under the bike with a torch, looking for said plate. However, recognising the tortuous process of having got the bike this far, he let us off with a “ce n’est pas grave”, which is quite a coup with French bureaucracy. He told us he would send the necessary form to the Sous-Préfecture in St. Gaudens, so we could now go ahead and officially import the bike. At this point, John and I felt like throwing our hats in the air in celebration!

Alas, this feeling of elation was short-lived.

Yesterday, we visited the Hôtel des Impôts in St. Gaudens, where the “Nice Lady Behind the Counter” asked us to produce the original Registration Document and sales invoice.

NLBC: “The bike is less than 6 months old. Have you ridden less than 6,000km?”

BR: “Err, yes. My husband bought the bike in the UK in January.”

NLBC: “But you live in France, non? How long have you been resident?”

BR: “Since July 2007.”

NLBC: “Then you must pay VAT.”

BR: “But my husband paid VAT in the UK. See, there, on the invoice.”

NLBC: “But you were resident in France at the time of the purchase, so you must pay VAT in France.”

JR: “Surely, you have got to be joking.” (Or words to that effect.)

NLBC: “My name’s not Shirley, and I’m not joking.”

Ok, that’s a fib. She didn’t really say that, but her position was very clear. Seeing an ugly domestic scene developing in front of her, the Nice Lady Behind the Counter disappeared into a back office. She re-emerged a minute later with her supervisor. They were nothing if not courteous and helpful, but there was nothing they could do for us. “Perhaps you can claim a refund from the UK authorities.”

Naturally, one can’t claim a refund without proof that VAT has been paid elsewhere, So John is now staring at a 2,000€ VAT bill but, having spoken to HM Revenue & Customs, there is no guarantee that he will get back the £1,430 already paid.

Now, in John’s original negotiations with Carl Rosner over the purchase of the Tiger, he had specifically asked if a French spec bike could be supplied direct from Triumph for immediate export. It couldn’t, for the very same reason that the UK model required a Attestation de Conformité Partielle to be registered in France. The VIN (chassis) numbers are differently formatted for each market. The question, you might be asking yourself, is why, when the intention to export the bike had been made abundantly clear to both Carl Rosner and to Triumph’s Warranty Department, they hadn’t seen fit to deduct the VAT from the purchase price. Yesterday afternoon, John asked Carl Rosner the same question.

It transpires that Triumph have a policy that dealers cannot issue the relevant VAT 411 form in respect of motorcycles destined for a country where they have local concessions. I am no legal beagle, but à mon avis this seems to fly in the face of the EU free market economy, not to mention breaching HM Revenue & Customs regulations. Perhaps if any of my readers have expert knowledge in this field, they might like to get in touch. I feel a law suit coming on!