Everyday I cycle past a green shed-like building on my way to work. It's one of a number of "Cabman's shelters" in London - road-side huts providing hot meals to taxi-drivers.
The one I go past is in South Kensington but I've seen others in Notting Hill, St John's Wood etc. When they're open there's usually a line of taxis parked nearby with gruff-looking taxi drivers queuing up to buy their lunch.
Today I joined them and bought my lunch at a Cabman's shelter.
I gingerly approached the hut and went around to the serving window. There was a taxi-driver chatting to the woman inside and I nervously hung back, acutely aware that I am not a taxi-driver...
At last the man was served his cup of tea and went off to his waiting cab. I stepped up to the window and ordered an egg roll from the woman inside. While she went about cooking it up another taxi-driver came up and eyed me suspiciously. He ordered his tuna baguette and we stood waiting in stony silence, both aware that I was trespassing on the cabman's turf.
At last my roll was ready and off I went, munching happily and trying not to squirt ketchup down my front!
Summary: A window into the cabman's world.
