My car sprang a fairly serious oil leak (to the point where it was getting through oil faster than petrol, and I was leaving a trail all down the road). I’d noticed the oil light flashing on and off when I drove into work on Friday morning. So I topped it up with a gallon of Esso Superlube (company man to the last!) before I left work, but the oil light was flashing again before I was halfway home. I was just wondering where I’d find a garage open on a Saturday (this is Belgium, after all…), when the police pulled me over.
Les Flic were doing a random papers-check, which they are in the habit of doing every so often over here (although this is the first time I had been personally ‘chosen’). They wanted to see my ID card (which I luckily had with me – any other day and it would have been in my desk at work – which probably would have meant a trip to the station), my insurance documents, and my ‘pink slip’ (car ownership document). Of course I didn’t have these last two (I’d felt it prudent to leave them at home in case my car was stolen), which cost me a written warning and a summons to present the documents at the nearest police station within the next 12 hours (presumably so I didn’t have time to run off a passable forgery).
Unfortunately they then discovered that my vehicle inspection certificate had expired last month. This, I was told, was much more serious (than not having insurance, apparently) and therefore warranted a hefty fine (EUR 150.00). Great. They were at least kind enough to let me drive my ‘potential deathtrap’ home (I was only round the corner) but told me I had to get the inspection done “immediately”.
Immediately was 7am on the Monday (they don’t work the weekends, but at least they make up for it by starting early during the week). The garage smugly pointed out that my warrantly had expired two weeks ago. But on the plus side, my oil leak qualified as an ’emergency’ so they’d look at it straight away instead of making me book an appointment for two weeks from now. I left my car with them, and they called me later in the day to say they had fixed the oil leak (a loose pressure gauge), and replaced my two bald tyres so I could get through the inspection. I took the car to the inspection place myself to find that the ‘inspection’ largely consisted of some surly grease-monkey bouncing the car around on rollers for ten minutes whilst they change all of the presets on your radio. Still, at least it passed, and I got the requisite certificate – and stamp on my owner’s document.
I picked the car up again after work, but by the time I’d paid I was running late. I was trying to make up time, and took a shortcut down one of the residential sidestreets. Unfortunately I didn’t see the speed camera the police had sneakily hidden behind a parked car until I caught the blue flash in my rearview. I kind of hoped that it was out of film, but no such luck in this digital age – the photo had probably been beamed to Police Central before I’d even hit the brakes. So that cost me another EUR 150.00. One summons, one inspection fine, and a speeding ticket all in the space of four days. Sometimes it’s real hard not to feel victimized!
The fines are bad enough, but you can only pay them by buying ‘fine stamps’ at the post office, and licking and sticking these to your ticket before cutting the ticket in two (across the stamps) and sending half of it back to the police (I know! Mediaeval, isn’t it?). As Belgian post offices only seem to be open for about two hours a day (and definitely not at lunchtime) this necessitates taking time off work and queuing up behind pissy old people (some things are universal!) who apparently have nothing better to do than stand around Post Offices bitching about the price of whatever all day. Personally, I think that’s the real punishment. ‘Cruel and unusual’ is apparently acceptable here…
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