On our way to Sunday lunch on 1 August, I was crossing Fore Street, Ilfracombe, by the acute-angled junction with the High Street. Suddenly, a Vauxhall Corsa appeared from around the blind corner, and stopped to let me go. My girlfriend had hesitated, but crossed with me. As the driver pulled away, he yelled out of the window, “KNOBHEAD!” adding two jabbing fingers. We were there first, and on foot, so what inspired such hostility? The rules of the road, that’s what. They grant drivers divine rights, and leave no room for empathy.
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