IT’S the electric mopeds that want you dead. They bolt from pedestrian walkways, arbitrarily pelt across traffic lights, over- and undertake in vicious little chattering packs. Some have metre wide boxes strapped to the back, delivering items too big for a top box and too heavy for their own good. One was carrying a small coppice of 2.5m lengths of bamboo strapped to the side, like some lumberjack knight ready to lance the unwary. Even for cars, rights of way are fickle, vague and open to interpretation. And beyond all reasonable expectation… it kind of works. But for a time dilated foreigner, downtown Shanghai in rush hour is still a throb of culture shock.
It doesn’t help that I’m in an MG Cyberster, the kind of two-seat convertible sports car that isn’t hugely common in Shanghai, or China in general, and you’ve never known fear until you’ve had a near disastrous head-on collision with a man in an extended wheelbase Passat who then points at the car and gives you a calm wave. The six hours I spent getting a – very – temporary driving licence was pointless. I’d have been better going straight to therapy. Or possibly basic training.
But here we are in MG’s
