Thursday 30^th August

It’s time, I think, to contemplate – taxi drivers!

I have had quite a lot of different taxi drivers over the past few months.  I always need to catch a taxi on Wednesday night, after my regular few hours at the Republic (my spiritual home…)  The old-timers know Old Farm Road and its eccentricities; the younger ones, especially the ones from lands far away, gasp and stretch their eyes, just a bit, as they wind their way up the narrow road behind Cascade Brewery in the dark.

Mostly, I find, drivers are gloomy.  They sigh and complain that they have been waiting for many hours, and that they are lucky if get $5 per hour.  Not quite sure what to do about this – I can really only employ them for a $20 ride once a week.  Not enough to line their pockets or feed their babies.

Before I go any further I have one big exception – Peter Mandic!  He has recently retired and only drives occasionally, but he was the opposite of gloomy, and a most obliging, helpful, friendly owner/driver.  I do sometimes ring him and there he is, as obliging as ever, but I really think I should leave him on the couch with his Justine, enjoying well-earned retirement…

One night I was going back to Old Farm Road very late at night.  I had a young Indian driver, full of enthusiasm (one of the non-gloomy ones, an exception!)  He was amazed to be driving in thick bush so close to town.  I warned him that there might be animals on the road, and indeed there were!  We counted fifty five fluffy hoppy creatures!  Quolls, bandicoots, potaroos, various sizes and shapes of wallaby, rabbits, it was all GO in OFR!!!  He enjoyed this Attenborough experience very much.  When he left me at the top of the road, I reminded him to be very careful not to squash any little furry beasties on the way back down. He clasped his hands together and said, “No!  I wouldn’t!  I LOVE them!  I honestly and sincerely LOVE them!”  Too sweet for words…and…I love them too…

One very cold night I had a very young driver from Sudan.  He was very frightened to be going up OFR at 7.30pm.  I think if I had looked any more intimidating than I do (which is, I must say, not very…) he would have refused to make the sharp turn behind Cascade.  We were approaching the steepest most narrow slope when he gasped and said, “Black ice!  Yes!  It is BLACK ICE! I can’t drive up there!  You will have to get out and walk.”  Ummm…no!  It was very dark, I didn’t have a torch, and the road was indeed thick with ice.  I would have ended up slippysliding down the hill into the icy rushing creek.  So I used my most soothing and encouraging tones and coaxed him up that slippery sucker of a road.  He had a big powerful taxi with beautiful new tyres; it really wasn’t dangerous, at his 4 kilometers per hour…but he did have white knuckles!

Recently I had a very sad man from Iran, who had come here with his wife ten years ago.  They have two young boys, primary school age, and Mrs Driver has recently found a new man to replace Mr Driver.  He is very angry and bitter and says his sons will never be able to trust a woman because their mother, to put it bluntly, is a SLUT.  Oh deary me… No I didn’t hold back; I gave him quite a long lecture on forgiveness and I told him that it was up to him to provide a good, honourable role model for his boys.  To his credit he didn’t make me get out and walk…

Last night my driver was of the oldcodger variety.  He looked a lot like the very smelly man who asked me for $1 at the bus stop last week.  In fact, maybe it was him! 

What next?