Yesterday I met a Russian émigré, occupation unknown. He told me that he has driven across several countries, including the U.S.A., Argentina, Turkey, the Netherlands, Mexico, and a couple others I can’t recall. These places have passable-to-excellent public roads, he said, and most of them have some kind of public rest areas along these roads.
But the one country he won’t traverse is his own: at one time they had almost as many nuclear weapons as the United States, but not a single rest area in vast stretches of the country. Never mind the frequent shakedowns, non-existent asphalt, and bleak scenery.
A country, he said, may be judged on the quality of its public facilities, and in Russia, you have to make shit in the bushes.
Photo credit: akudrin