Pedestrian Predicament
Thirty-two may be
too late in the game to ask such a question – but is there a correct side to
walk on the pavement?
I used to be able to pass people heading in the opposite direction without incident. Those were the days: now, there's seldom a time it doesn't break into a spot of impromptu country dancing.
The problem often starts at a distance. From the moment I spot a person on the horizon the heat is on. If I’m decisive it nearly ends in a head-on collision; if I’m not, I start veering across the pavement like a drunkard.
It doesn’t help that I suffer from Labyrinthitis: possibly the world’s most unfortunately named condition. Mere mention of its name paints a vivid mental image of a tight-trousered Bowie that bears absolutely no relevence.
Labyrinthitis is an inflammation of the inner ear that causes mixed messages to be sent to your brain regarding balance. It leads to bouts of vertigo that can last for weeks or months – and when it hits, all basic coordination goes out of the window. Just crossing the road takes every ounce of concentration.
All in all, it’s a bit of a shitter.
Maybe it's not solely my fault. These days Britain’s pathways are like a dog-eat-dog world with each man for himself; a little pavement etiquette wouldn’t go amiss now and then.
If there was such a thing as a course in Pedestrian Proficiency I'd be first in line to take it. Provided I didn't have to walk past anyone to get to it.
I used to be able to pass people heading in the opposite direction without incident. Those were the days: now, there's seldom a time it doesn't break into a spot of impromptu country dancing.
The problem often starts at a distance. From the moment I spot a person on the horizon the heat is on. If I’m decisive it nearly ends in a head-on collision; if I’m not, I start veering across the pavement like a drunkard.
It doesn’t help that I suffer from Labyrinthitis: possibly the world’s most unfortunately named condition. Mere mention of its name paints a vivid mental image of a tight-trousered Bowie that bears absolutely no relevence.
Labyrinthitis is an inflammation of the inner ear that causes mixed messages to be sent to your brain regarding balance. It leads to bouts of vertigo that can last for weeks or months – and when it hits, all basic coordination goes out of the window. Just crossing the road takes every ounce of concentration.
All in all, it’s a bit of a shitter.
Maybe it's not solely my fault. These days Britain’s pathways are like a dog-eat-dog world with each man for himself; a little pavement etiquette wouldn’t go amiss now and then.
If there was such a thing as a course in Pedestrian Proficiency I'd be first in line to take it. Provided I didn't have to walk past anyone to get to it.
