“So what do you say, Ilan? Is it worth it for us?”
Danny and Ronit sat across from me in the office, with a pile of documents on the table and a look of hope mixed with anxiety. They had come to consult about an opportunity that seemed to them like a dream: an apartment in Greece, a Golden Visa, and entry into Europe. The perfect package.
“Tell me about the project again,” I asked, even though I already knew the general outline.
A beautiful promise
Danny leaned forward. “There's a company offering apartments in Greece, at a price that qualifies exactly for a Golden Visa. They promise to take care of everything - the renovation, the conversion to a use that qualifies for the visa, and also management and rental afterwards. It sounds like a winner, doesn't it?”
“What condition is the property in right now?” I asked.
Ronit glanced at Danny. “Well, that's the thing... It's still in the final stages of renovation. The company says everything will be ready in three months.”
I took out the documents they had brought and started going through them. Something here didn't add up.
The red flags
“Look,” I said after a few minutes of silence, “I want to put a few questions to you that need to be asked.”
I opened a clean page and started writing:
First question: what happens if the renovation isn't completed? “You pay the full amount in advance, but you have no real guarantee that the company will finish the work. What if it runs into financial difficulties? What if there are delays in permitting?”
Danny turned a little pale. “They seemed very professional...”
“I'm sure,” I continued gently, “but that's not the question. The question is what happens the day after signing, when the money is already with them and you're waiting. Are you registered in the Greek land registry as the owner of the apartment immediately upon signing? Do you have any security at all for the money you're paying?”
Second question: will the property actually qualify for the visa? “The law in Greece is clear - the property must be in a certain use. But who assures you that the conversion the company is planning will actually meet the criteria? On this point you need an opinion from an independent Greek lawyer, don't you?”
Ronit wrote energetically. “I understand...”
Third question: is the price reasonable? This was the painful question. I took out the calculator. “The property is priced at 250 thousand euros. Let's check the market.”
I showed them several similar properties in the same area, all priced 30-40% lower. “Why do you think there's such a gap?”
Danny swallowed. “Because they include the full service...”
“Right. But what is that service really worth? Is it 80-100 thousand euros? That's more than 30% of the price. That is a great deal of money.”
The real concern
Ronit broke the silence. “There's something else that worries me. What happens after we get the visa? The company says they will manage it and handle the rental, but what if they close down? Suddenly Danny and I will have to manage a property in Greece from Israel?”
It was an excellent point. “That is exactly the right concern,” I said. “You're buying not only a property - you're buying dependency. Dependency on a company you don't really know. And I always say you must take into account that it might not work. Then you'll have to look for another company to manage the property for you.”
The moment of truth
Danny and Ronit looked at each other. A quiet conversation passed between them, the kind that only couples married for many years know how to hold without words.
“So what do you recommend?” Danny finally asked.
I took a deep breath. “I can't decide for you. But I can tell you what I would ask myself: am I buying a property, or am I buying a dream?”
The decision
Two weeks later I got a phone call from Ronit.
“We decided not to buy,” she said, and her voice sounded calmer than it had at the meeting. “It was hard, because we wanted it to work so much. But when we started putting the questions you raised to the company, the answers were evasive.”
“Well done for the courage,” I said sincerely.
“There's something I wanted to tell you,” Ronit continued. “At first I thought you were simply pessimistic, that you were trying to ruin our dream. But now I understand that you did exactly what a lawyer should do - you showed us the reality behind the promises.”
The lesson
After I finished the call, I sat down and wrote myself a note. How many other clients had come to me with similar offers in recent months? Too many.
The Golden Visa is a legitimate and wonderful tool. But like anything good, it also attracts those who want to exploit the human desire for security or for a better life.
The real lesson? Sometimes the right decision is to say “no.”
Not every deal that looks like an opportunity truly is one. Sometimes the real gold is the shrewdness to recognize when it's worth stepping back.
Danny and Ronit called me a week ago. They found a small office building in a sought-after neighborhood in Athens that had already passed all the approvals for conversion to residential use. The owner is selling directly, at a fair price, and the documents clearly show that the building was offices that were converted lawfully. Now they are moving toward their Golden Visa - but this time with open eyes, an approved property, and a contingency plan.
That is what I love about my work. You don't always say “yes.” Sometimes, “no” is the best service you can give.
Stories are based on real situations, with identifying details changed. Not legal advice.
Translated from the Hebrew original. עברית