Road rage

Here we go again...on the way back from the nursery:

A 20-kg Vélib' bike jumps a red light just as we step off the pavement. We leap back on the pavement.

A motorist whizzes the wrong way down a one-way street in reverse. We don't notice as we're not looking the way he is coming. He doesn't notice because he is not even looking behind. We leap back on the pavement.

A scooter rider who has his - unfastened - helmet on the back of his head shouts at us because we don't get out of his way quickly enough. He passes so close I leap into the busy road.

A car is parked on the pavement blocking it entirely. We both leap onto an even busier road.

A man who is clearly not a tramp unzips his trousers pulls out what La Fille calls "a robinet" (tap) and proceeds to pee against the wall as we pass. Where are those splash-back walls when you need them. We cross the road.

A motorcyclist with a toddler (maximum age: 5) riding pillion goes the wrong way down the one way street.

A van is parked across the zebra crossing. As we walk behind it a woman on a mobile telephone jumps the red pedestrian light.

I moan to a couple of French people about all this. Shrugs all round. I say there should be more police. Horrified looks all round. Now they think I'm a fascist. Silly me, I should have known; this is what they mean by French freedom of spirit, non-conformity, refusal to bow to bourgeois rules and customs.

I know I'm supposed to get over it. I know it happens all the time in France and everyone I know has the same story and ha ha, it's another one of those Anglo/French cultural clashes. But, sod it. Why should I accept that sooner or later one of us stands a good chance of being killed or maimed just because some selfish, irresponsible, inconsiderate and law-breaking French twat is exercising his or her right to be a rebel?

I need to lie down in a darkened room.