I wonder what ever happened to that life sized, white uniformed, wooden policeman just before the entrance to the tunnel near Pirot. 
He scared many a speeding British driver as you came around the corner heading East, until you got to know him. He was out there in all weathers, rain or shine, summer and winter holding his little red lollypop, I never saw him wearing a rain coat, he was always wearing his white Adriatic uniform. He was probably the best Yugoslav policeman that we ever met as I never heard about him fining any of us.
Maybe he has finally retired after all these years and is living in a little holiday home on the Dalmatian Coast with a nice little police pension.
Or did Marshall Tito have him shot, ah the good old days. 
