It was a usual Friday and I was returning home after a night out in the centre of Rotterdam. I love this city at night, with all those lights, sparkling skyscrapers and bridges. Moreover, my way home always starts with driving over the most famous Rotterdam bridge.
Yet, it appeared that something was strange that night as the cars driving in front of me started to break down instead of speeding up as it usually happens on any bridge. And Erasmus bridge was never an exception. When approaching the end of the bridge, I first noticed numerous blinking road signs changing the direction of the road and pushing all the drivers to turn right instead of continuing their way straight as it was supposed to be.
“Road works,” I thought. “Nothing special – still better at night than during rush-hours.”
But soon flickering figures of police officers and several police cars standing along the road made me change my mind.
“Ok, here we go,” my thoughts continued rushing. “My first police control in the Netherlands.”
It felt already different, actually. The number of police officers (read: a lot) made me remember the movies – seemed like they were chasing a criminal; you know: one calls, then a whole division appears, they block the road, check all cars, documents, compare photos and faces…
Anyway, that wasn’t the case. Though, I did think about my documents.
“Ok, what did J. tell about the papers? Somewhere there – right. Found them. No idea what they all mean but I hope police know. Driving licence? In my handbag. Got it. Luckily with EU stars and some words in English. Should be fine. It’s still an old one: with a photo which should not be shown to anyone and glasses mentioned as a must. The question: “Where are your glasses?” does not surprise me anymore. “Left at the surgery room” – that’s my answer. Ok, I’m ready for interrogation.”
My brainstorm and search action in the car were interrupted by the fact that I already reached the point of control.
“Goedenacht, mevrouw,” said a police-lady offering me a well-known breath-in tube.
“That’s it?! Nothing more? No explanations? No documents? Nothing?!?” all my excitement disappeared in one second. I was ready to answer 100 & 1 question and spend hours by this police control point but they… alcotest… I don’t even drink! The lady took the tube back with zero results, said “Dank u” and turned to the next car. Ha, felt like on the conveyor! Blinking road signs showed the way to help drivers return to their initial direction. And that was it.
Similar experience in Latvia would rather look as follows: one police car is standing in the most unnoticeable and hidden place and a police officer is jumping out on the road trying to stop a car. The key word here is “unexpectedly”. While one car is being checked, the others are normally safe. Otherwise LV police would go bankrupt – we can’t afford spending that many tubes during one night… The unlucky driver is given a tube to check the alcohol… and then also asked to show his driving licence, then technical passport, then insurance papers, then the boot is checked, then maybe something else – as much as possible, just in case. Meanwhile, all the other cars which passed by have already notified/informed all the traffic participants about the police car standing in a certain place – and the road becomes strangely empty… After several unsuccessful attempts to stop a “drunk unit”, the police car moves to another location in search of peace of luck. And that is it.
Live2smile 