It’s rush hour, and I’m crossing the road with my bike, standing there looking at the cars looking at me, all of us wondering why the other isn’t going. I’d stopped in the middle of the crosswalk to wait for the line of cars turning right to finish. I’d assumed they weren’t going to wait for me to finish crossing.
I try to wave the first car through, but he doesn’t go until I look away. But the next car tries to wait for me, too. I look away and wave him through, wondering what the chances are of getting two overly-polite drivers in a row.
They were waiting for me, of course, because I was in the crosswalk and pedestrians have right-of-way. Right of way? For pedestrians? Traffic rules? I thought being in the way gave you right of way. It was so weird to see cars actually voluntarily stop to make way for anything that for a moment I didn’t know what to do. But that’s how it works; I asked my dad when I got home.
In Tianjin if we want the cars to stop for us we just step in front of them and force them to stop, or at least swerve, or adjust their trajectory. But in Surrey, crosswalks are magic!
My autopilot needs to be reprogrammed, apparently.