We had another interesting morning today.
We were waiting in the middle of Avenida de Sol to cross over to the other side and a pick-up truck that was attempting to park there drove (very slowly, but deliberately) into me.
The driver then attempted to stare me out, gestured that it was my fault and then started scowling.
Unfortunately for him, I was in a bad mood and we were opposite a police office.
A few month's ago a very nice policeman admired Salvador's buggy as I went to the post office and strangely enough I managed to track him down again today.
Buggy Cop crossed the road and took the driver to task.
With no apology forthcoming, the driver was invited into the police office himself.
As we crossed Avenida de Sol again, a motorcyclist turned to see what was going on and glided straight into the back of a taxi - no one took any notice.
Once inside the poky den the Buggy Cop's boss launched into a tirade against bad manners, bad driving and badness in general, his monologue is best summed up by the following question :
'the gentleman (points at me) is a foreign visitor, what sort of example are you setting by running him over?'
More intrigue shot across our bows as he asked who owned the car, answer - 'the Archbishop' - I LOVE IT.
'God told me to do it' (last quote is a lie, but not entirely out of context with the bizarre situation we were in).
After much embellishment of what was a fairly dull incident, the driver was made to apologise to me - I accepted the handshake, but the embrace was a bit much.
We left as 'the boss' was sorting out some sort of financial arrangement with the driver.
As we waited in the Post Office queue two minutes later, a curate walked in, making me wonder if I was set for some immediate retribution from the Bish and his Boss.