TAXI

More readers than the rest put together! 26 JANUARY 2016 | TAXI 19
Taxi Talk
THE WINTER OF
OUR DISCONTENT
ALF TOWNSEND
The big chill has set in around the taxi ranks but you have got to keep your chin up
This is the sad story about an
ancient Hackney Carriage
driver who roamed the streets
of ‘”olde” London town desperately
searching for fares so he could feed
himself and his “horse.” Sadly, if
things don’t improve, he may well
be forced to put his old nag in the
stewing pot!
Joking aside, any cabby with
a few winters under his or her
belt, will take it as read that the
first week of the New Year is
always very quiet. But, after some
54 winters on the cab, I have to
confess that the start of 2016 was
definitely the quietest I’ve ever
known!
After a totally wasted tour of
London it was patently obvious
that London cabbies were among
the few trades back at work – not
forgetting the multitude of Uber
cars plotted up in every side street!
The posh kids from private schools
were still on holiday – with many
of them soaking up the sun in the
Bahamas or the Maldives with
mummy and daddy. As for the few
shoppers in the West End, they
were all skint after Christmas!
Finally, after the best part of an
hour I got my first job off the rank
at Camden Town, a ride to Soho.
Right, I thought, I’ll have a look at
the rank at the Langham Hilton,
Portland Place. In retrospect, it was
not a good idea. I have never seen
the rank so long; I swear it went
back almost to New Cavendish
Street. But forever the optimist
I headed for my regular spot at
Marylebone station – which turned
out to be yet another bad idea
because the rank went all the way
up Harewood Avenue and around
the corner into Rossmore Road.
But it’s no good riding around
aimlessly if there’s just nothing
about, you’ve got to put on and do
your porridge!
Some 45 minutes later, I finally
got off to King’s Cross – for a
“legal” I might add. I noticed that
the rank for St. Pancras went all
the way round the block, so I
looked for the end of the King’s
Cross rank. I did a right into
Goodsway, but there were cabs
the whole length of the road and
even cabs in York Way waiting to
feed on. It was decision time and I
decided to call it day after getting
just four jobs in four hours! I had a
good moan to my son later about the
lack of work – even though he was
doing four hours at Heathrow. He
replied, forever the eternal optimist,
“don’t worry old chap, things can only
get better!” I live in hope!
...the haunting
first line from David Bowie’s
hit ‘Space Oddity’, still
resonates and is instantly
recognisable
Ground control to
Major Tom
Even after some 40 years, the
haunting first line from David
Bowie’s hit ‘Space Oddity’,
still resonates and is instantly
recognisable.
The recent sad passing of this
music legend was especially poignant
in our family, because our lovely
eldest daughter Jenny, who we sadly
lost to breast cancer at the end of
the millennium, was an avid Bowie
fan. I fondly recall back in the 70s
when Jenny and her best mate
Harriet Bakewell, the daughter of the
BBC doyen Joan – now Dame Joan
Bakewell - left the house to go to
David Bowie’s home in Beckenham,
South London, just to try and get
a glimpse of him. Later in the day
she would return, freezing cold and
starving hungry, but with a sparkle
in her lovely blue eyes.
While she was tucking into her
grub, she would describe standing
outside his house all day and the
excitement when he waved to them
out of a window – with no shirt
on. Or when they saw him going
down the stairs – probably to the
toilet! Wonderful, but bitter sweet
memories!
When is free not free?
Many of you reading this piece
would have received a letter from
your broadband supplier – as I did
- offering you a free year deal to
have fibre optics fitted. Afterwards
it would cost a tenner a month. The
letter stated that fibre optics would at
least quadruple your internet speed.
“Right,” I thought, “I’ll have some of
that” because I do like a freebie!
I got straight on the blower to the
call centre, which I believe is in the
Philippines, and started chatting
to this pleasant, foreign guy who
kept calling me Albert after every
sentence. “Yes, fibre optics were
available in my area,” he said, “and
they are a wonderful asset, but it would
cost £50 to have it fitted.” “Whoa, hold
it there matey,” said I. “You want me to
pay fifty quid – which would be the first
five months of any future
contract, just for a
guy to come round
and replace the
present box?
Then at the
end of the
twelve month
freebie, if I
decide that I
don’t want to
keep the fibre
optics, the same
guy will come round and change the
box again for fifty quid. So, in effect, I
will only get two free months out of the
twelve!” You couldn’t call it a con or
a scam, but it’s certainly a cunning
ploy to steer you towards an 18
month contract! I said “no thank you”
and put the phone down.
Heading West
Michael Andreou, the likeable bossman
at MAM’s Electrics, has been
forced to move from his premises
in the Blundell Street Trading
Estate, off York Way. He is
now situated at Unit Nine,
Mitre Way, Mitre Park,
W10.
Most of you will know
this place, just off of
Scrubs Lane, because
it houses a taximeter
firm and Michael is bang
opposite ComCab! n