Heliopolis de James Scudamore
We are experts at traffic jams. We've taken them to new levels. Even when there aren't accidents, traffic lights on sagging metal arms blink and change while car soup simmers beneath them. But the energy doesn't disappear just because the flow is blocked; as in a human artery, it is re-routed. A grip of trapped vehicles activates every vendor, huckster, implorer and charity case within a kilometre-radius, and the resulting teeming sideshow makes you forget you had anywhere to go. The incident up ahead is barely two minutes old when five young boys materialise to wipe windscreens, sell peanuts, peddle flowers. One, barefooted, juggles fire on the shoulders of another, both grimacing with concentration. Everything is an opportunity.