Germany is a country where you don’t cross against the lights. The joke is that if three Europeans (an Italian, a Frenchie and a German) come to a red light at 3 AM on a deserted street, the Italian will cross without looking, the Frenchie will look and then cross, and the German will stand there and wait for the light to change. I’ve seen ‘em do it. Anyways, the other thing you’re not supposed to do is ride across red lights on your bike, which I hear is punished by flogging or at least a dressing down on the part of some otherwise quite nice old lady. I think it’s a ridiculous restriction, but then again, bike helmets and traffic laws were made for lesser (and smarter) mortals than I. In any case, there I was with a super high quality borrowed bike, trying to cross the street. The thing had one gear which was likely partially rusted to the chain, a crooked handlebar, margianally functioning brakes, and a seat so high I could barely reach the pedals. Needless to say, maneuvering was quite tricky, so when I came to the intersection and saw the stopped cars, I assumed I was allowed to cross and/or was willing to risk it anyways, as stopping and starting was too complicated on the bike. So I toodle on in to the middle of the intersection, when two things happened simultaneously: (a) I realized I was crossing against the light, meaning traffic would start up any second, and (b), my tire became completely jammed in the tram lines, leaving me stranded in the intersection, frantically trying to extricate my bike before the cars let loose. Happily for all parties involved I succeeded.