Dog Story 2

The calm of our local street market at midnight

On the way to work this morning I had two near disasters. The problem is reading what other road users are going to do. Since no one follows any of the rules of the road traffic proceeds by telepathic agreement between drivers. This is especially true where a left turn is involved (remember they drive on the right). I regularly see a woman on a motor bike who always goes to the inside edge of the road before making a wide sweep out to the left ensuring she has to cross the path of every other driver on the road to make her turn. At least I know what to expect when I see her.

This morning I was cycling up Van Ho two and reached a small junction where the majority of motorbikes coming towards me turn across me. The art is to guess which ones will go in front of me and which will go behind, effectively I have to find a gap through the flow despite the fact that in theory I have priority.

This morning a guy who I expected to go in front of me decided to go behind me and we were on collision course until I finally realised his intent, a quick swerve using my one working brake and we slipped by each other with inches to spare. At the next junction – the opposite problem, but this time the guy actually waved to let me know he was going in front. My bike juddered as the brake, long past its sell by date, tried to slow me enough to let him pass. This cat just lost another two lives!

At the last junction before work I experienced another classic Hanoi syndrome. On a two way road cars and bikes had spread across both lanes as they waited for the traffic lights to change (they wait at this junction because the volume of traffic crossing the other way is such that even a local can see it would be suicide to try and go against the lights). I was on the centre line as I had to turn left after the junction, but I had as many motorbikes to my left as to my right. The two opposing armies faced each other and rushed into battle as the lights changed. Its times like this when I tend to hang back or position myself behind a car, not that that is ideal since you never know what the car is going to do; stop, make an illegal left turn, park in the middle of the road or worse still start reversing! Anyway I made it to work where a colleague showed me his bruises from last night when someone on his left at the lights made a right turn in front of him when the lights changed – another favourite – causing him to fall off his motorbike. His bike’s scratched and he is sore but still alive as he put it. His experience happens dozens of times a day here.

Last night had a couple of highlights for us too. For starters Mike locked himself out of his bedroom. He has the most secure room in the house with the best fitting door which does not have a handle. It is opened by turning the key, which was now inside the room with the door closed and Mike on the outside. This happens to him a lot, but on previous occasions it has been in hotels where housekeeping or reception can easily remedy the situation. Here there was only one key – in the room.

Well I wasn’t chairman of the South Notts Crime Prevention Panel for two years without learning a few tricks of the trade and after Mike had gone out (contemplating spending the night on the roof or on the bed settee) I found an old plastic card – credit card style and proved I have not lost my touch. After a few abysmal attempts I finally got the angle right, the card slid down, the lock clicked and the door was open. We spent the rest of the evening sending Mike texts winding him up about not being able to get the spare mattress out as the storeroom was locked.

The dog which sounds like a hacksaw has also made a comeback in the last week. On a number of occasions it has started up then stopped barking abruptly, usually ending with a chocking sound suggesting someone has grabbed it by the throat. However, on three occasions recently it has gone on a bit and a new phenomenon has arisen.

After the dog has barked continuously for about five minutes a siren starts. It’s not a quiet siren, very few are. This is a siren very much like American Police cars in 1960’s movies. It penetrates through the neighbourhood drowning out the dog and everything else. The first time I heard it I thought we had a fire engine in the yard – impossible since our alley is less than 2 metres wide. The siren continues until the dog stops, or is stopped – usually the latter. Last night, as the siren wailed and the dog chocked the German could be heard ranting in the background, but without any kicking of doors. I wonder if he was complaining about the dog or the siren?