Unwittingly stumbled into Beijing on the last night of the Chinese New Year celebrations. Once the sun goes down, this happens on every third street corner:
There are no barriers or safety precautions of any kind. Cars weave around the explosions. Chunks of hot plaster rain down on the spectators. Ambulance sirens wail from all corners of the city as they rush, presumably, to pick up all the severed limbs and glue them back on.