I was in Leytonstone, East London, yesterday.
It is not one of the most glamorous parts of London.
My friend Lynn and her husband Frank were in Côte d’Ivoire – the Ivory Coast as was.
A tad more glamorous.
Both Lynn and the Ivory Coast.
I have just received this from her:
As a fan of film car chases you would have enjoyed yesterday, as my highlight was our police escort.
What does it tell you about a country when the traffic ploughs off the motorway instantly as this cop gesticulates madly and has us following him the wrong way down the motorway?
Only one vehicle challenged him – a white van man flashed his lights as the mad biker drove at him and zigzagged towards him to prove he wasn’t kidding. The van gave way.
We approached a traffic jam at a major crossroads in Abidjan and he careered across the central reservation into the oncoming traffic and disappeared.
It was only when our three lanes of traffic magically started speeding through the crossroads that we found he had stopped three lanes of traffic in each of the other roads so that we could get through.
When he got back to us he stood up on the footrests and punched the air as we cheered (whilst admittedly worrying about the chaos left behind us).