During the years I pretended to work downtown, I could count on some periodic excitement since the UNHCR was next door and was regularly subject of street demonstrations.

An hour ago, it was rather like old times cycling back from City Hall via the Library to come across this demo. The ambulance was there to load up a yellow striped officer. It arrived in a bloody hurry but was reluctant to leave the excitement.

On the west side, with the green and black flags, Libyan rebels. On the east side, with green flags and the portraits of the dictator with clenched fists, the government side. Much shouting, flag waving, chanting, the occasional lunge.

No paddy wagon, but lots of cycle-mounted police officers.

Which reminds me, I haven’t heard from my loyal reader Colonel Gaddafi for some time, since he wrote offering me a few million dollars in return for letting him use my bank account to export his billions. He couldn’t be in financial trouble, could he?