A few weeks ago, I bought a motorbike. It was terrifying for a few minutes, and then just really fun. I haven’t got a license or plates, so my biggest fear is the tiny swarms of policeofficers packed on certain corners. The most valuable skill in such situations is not minding alternate routes and planning ahead to use SUVs as cover. But there’s invariably that painful moment when you’re crouched behind a giant truck and the cops are *right there* and on the traffic light countdown˘ you’ve still got 70 seconds to go. So far, fingers crossed, knock on wood, it’s been fine. Equally so far, fingers crossed, knock on wood, I haven’t gotten into any accidents. Yes, dad, I do wear a helment Helmets are the Law here! (and, really, even for strictly cop-avoidence purposes it makes a lot of sense to wear one, because that is a most-evident traffic violation. You’ll see tons of people driving around who keep it on their laps and throw it on at the last possible pre-cop second.) So. I wear a helmet and I even started wearing a surgical mask because I think I’m becoming asthmatic, and between that and my super-tan arms I think I can lose myself in the melee pretty well.

˘At a few major intersections here, the traffic lights have countdowns. I think they’re a pretty sweet innovation but there’s been a rumor floating for a few years now that the reason they’re so ill-timed (some make you wait an agonizing minute-and-a-half, others, 30 seconds) is because the manuals are in Japanese and no one has figured out how to reset. Bollocks, no doubt, but hilarious.