Riding through Rottenburg. It's an ancient market town: think of York with more streets and a bonsai minster.
As I was riding through the marketplace, which was full of kids, stalls, delivery vans and grannies on bicycles, some poor skip lorry driver emerged very gingerly from the very narrow street I was about to ride down. I gestured to ask which way he'd go, and he grinned and made a circling movement: this made sense: there's a building site right next to him, and he'll probably need to reverse in. I pointed down the road he'd emerged from, and he waved me forward I got a "Danke!" as I rode past.