A traffic policeman orchestrating the evening rush hour in the absence of functioning lights. A throwback to post war films as a pedestrian awaits their turn. ‘You can go now sir’. Further on a scooter rider curses within his helmet. The ambiguity of direction. Ire aimed at another road user or a hands-free diatribe directed elsewhere? South of the river a lycra-clad paunchy middle age cyclist mutters ‘instructions’ (‘on the inside’) as he wobbles from behind a car into the bike lane. Both without a backward glance or a bell. A new mindset where a few arrogant ‘racers’ view the road as an extension of their office. A place to dispense orders en route to the desk, where nothing can be a barrier to an uninterrupted journey.