I drove from the south coast to Chesterfield yesterday - the number of zombies in the middle of the road was noticeable.
To counter the narrative about cyclists, they have their bad eggs too. I was quietly driving below 30 very near to home, making my way up a hill that is carworthy but beloved of cyclists and walkers, and over the brow of the hill I was met with Mr RallyCross (and he clearly was cross), and on seeing me doing nothing wrong started yelling at me for a crime I wasn't committing. I sometimes think people get angry because they just don't want you to be there. Happily there was no altercation beyond that because I was too baffled by his projection to hang about, and he was actually travelling faster than I was.