How I became a Bob

By Dmitry Kann A minute read
This post  in Russian

I once posted about a special person called Bob. It’s almost a “saint with all possible benefits” (a quote from a popular Soviet-era film). To be precise, there’s at least one benefit with him—a car.

Yesterday we drove home from our friends. And somewhere in the residential area the police were diverting all cars to a side-street, Saturday evening must be a high time for a drunk driver hunt. Once you’ve pulled up at the roadside, you’re get breathalysed right through the side window and can see the result at once. My result was certainly negative—in the positive sense.

Those abiding to the law are given a nice sign of appreciation, Bob’s keychain:


Autumn Amersfoort by night under the cut, as seen by a sober driver.


A bike bridge named De Oversteek (“The Crossing”):

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