It is always one of the first things I say to friends who come to visit.
Remember this: Zebra crossings mean NOTHING!
The only people to benefit from these white stripes on the road are the makers of white paint.
A few days ago a friend was crossing the road.
She was run down by a young man on a scooter.
I am reliably told that he was intoxicated.
He awaits trial.
Karen’s full and vibrant life ended the next day.
Her injuries were too severe.
The flowers, tied to the tree in the foreground, left by her many friends.
I love most things about living here.
But drinking/driving and the lack of basic respect for pedestrians. I abhor.