A Zebra Crossing is just a Travelling Donkey with Stripes

Driving quietly home from the beach (I try and get my stuff done by 10.00am when the traffic  gridlock and road rage begins), I was behind a truck and a few cars by the time I had got to the Fuente de Mojácar. The truck was stopped at a zebra crossing to allow a pedestrian his right to cross the road. Operating on the principal of 'everyone's gotta stand somewhere', the old fellow was looking placidly at the line of vehicles before remembering his manners and waving the truck forward. By the time I reached the crossing, several cars later, he was still there, gazing into space, perhaps remembering other times, when there was only a few donkeys and underpowered motorcycles clogging up the road...