There’s a 50km/h limit, then it’s down to 30 limit next to the station, a chicane (which boy-racers all over the world immediately accept as a challenge to emulate Schumacher or Alonso and clip curbs at the highest speed possible) and then back to 50.
And when you round the bend, you see a set of traffic lights with a loooong red phase.
So what do you do?
Plant your foot, of course, and go through on amber or dark amber (as Dad used to say).
This chappy’s there to keep an eye on things, though.
He and his mates (and little girfriends) are placed strategically around most villages to let drivers know that there’s a high probability of littlies being out and about and it mostly works.
Not for me, though. I almost got flattened by Lewis Hamilton (or someone who looked very much like him, anyway) in a plumber’s van yesterday evening.
I suppose I might be a tad too tall to qualify as protected species….