Taxi Stand Blenheim.

My World for this week is the taxi stand at Blenheim in Market Square. I seem to have been working all week to assist other drivers that needed time off. Not that I have minded, as I still enjoy the work and the extra money. This is the company I drive for Gateway Taxis. Often there are far more taxis on the stand, both this one and the feeder stand around the corner. I have also been driving a Toyota station wagon and will drive a Camry station wagon tomorrow. The changes make for more interest, as I have to remember to call the right cab number each day.
The small clock tower behind us came from the original old Post Office building that has now been demolished, behind that is the Cleghorn Memorial Band Rotunda where music is often played.

My 15 minutes of Fame!

More Taxi adventures.

On Wednesday, while driving the taxi on a day shift; something I seldom do now days, perferring as I do, the Saturday night shift, I had a lady and her two quite sullen teenage sons as passengers. As I turned into MacLauchlan Street I could see a strange unusual sight ahead of us; a Mobility Scooter that the elderly and the disabled use, upside down on the roadway with all kinds of little bits and pieces scattered all around and an old lady trying to crawl out from under it all!

I quickly asked the lady if she would mind if we stopped and assisted the old dear, and would one of her boys like to help me pickup the mobility scooter. I was barely stopped before one of the boys jumped out and raced around the taxi with me to lift and right the scooter the while he piled neatly, all the soft cushions back on the seat, I gently helped the very flustered and upset old lady to her feet. She was so upset because it had been her own silly fault, ( she said ) that the scooter had tipped over. She should never have driven over the curb on an angle, so only one wheel went over, leaving the scooter unbalanced and three wheels up in the air, it could only tip over once that happened. Together we picked up all her parcels and goods, then I tucked the knee blanket around the old lady and she was back under way up the street like nothing had happened, but as we drew near and passed her she raised her hand to thank us. I looked back in the mirror and the boys eyes and mine met; warm with the glow of satisfaction at having done a random act of kindness to someone in need.

I didn't tell anyone about this incident except Erle when I got home at night, so thought no-one would ever know. I reckoned without a sweet old lady who really wanted to thank us properly now she was cool,calm and collected.

When I read the local Newspaper on Friday this thankyou was printed in the letters to the editor;

The sweet old lady Mary had not noticed that I was a lady as she had been too flustered and as a friend said, had most likely only seen my navy trousers that are the taxi uniform.

So far from keeping this quiet, the whole town and the taxi company know, so I may as well publish the story here in my blog!

Taxi Drivers Tales.

More Taxi driver Tales.
Another dangerous incident occurred while I was driving my taxi shift on Saturday night.
I had picked up a couple and was driving them to their home, about 11pm. As I drove up to the top of Howick Road, in to residential suburbia in a better than average area. There were a couple of cars parked on the side of the road opposite each other effectively narrowing the road considerably, I said to my two passengers ‘Oh Oh there are people all over the road’ then I noticed the people were spacing themselves evenly across the road; always a very bad sign, leaving me just two options either stop or drive into the people blocking the road, now ofcause that is not allow under any circumstances.
People sometimes do this, when they are desperate to stop a taxi late at night, it is always scary. So I said to the passengers ‘ this is quite dangerous I am going to have to slow up’ I pressed the central locking device to lock the doors and slackened off. When I drew near I saw the real danger, these men had fire on both sides of the road that they were playing with, they stepped out of my way leaving a clear path so I immediately gunned the engine and the taxi leapt forward, just as one the men threw the fire at the taxi, and it smashed noisily on the road where we had just been, with the sound of breaking glass! When we looked back the road was on fire where it had smashed. It had been a Molatov cocktail! Virtually a homemade bomb! A molatov cocktail is a bottle of petrol or other flammable liquid, with a rag sticking out of it that is lit just before it is thrown, in places like Ireland or Iraq, not in quiet peaceful New Zealand suburbia.
I immediately ordered the dispatch operator to call the Police; and she did. I know three squad cars were sent to deal the problem, but I was never interviewed so it couldn’t have been as bad as I thought it was. I was left quite shaky when I thought about just what could have happened if the flaming bottle had hit the car or worse gone threw the windows. I spent a few extra moments calming my passengers, one of whom was in tears, when I got them home, and also taking their names and address in case the Police needed them as witnesses.
As we were very busy at the time, as soon as I called clear I was given another job in the vicinity. I had only just picked these people up and was under way to their destination when the operator said the police would like to speak to me when I had finished this job; but the job was quite a long drive in the opposite direction so it took me a long while to get back to the site in Howick Road. While driving there I passed two police squad cars leaving the scene and the remaining one was still parked when I was pulling up beside it, but the Police must have received another urgent call for assistance at that moment, because they turned on the lights and siren and raced off.
You can be sure I didn’t hang around there on my own either, so I have no idea what the outcome of the incident was. Only that it frightened me somewhat.

Wild Pig hunt

Wild Pigs
During the last week Wild Pigs have featured in my life, twice!

On Saturday night while driving my taxi shift, 4pm - 4am I picked up a young man and took him home, he told me about his big wild pig hunt earlier in the week, when he had caught a huge wild pig with the help of his dogs, up in the mountains. I suggested to him that I would be pleased to accept some wild pork instead of money for his fare, he was amazed at this and very pleased to run inside and come back to me clutching 2 big parcels of frozen wild pork. These turned out to be a shoulder of pork and a big pack of pork chops, I was way paid more than I had originally asked for.

We have already eaten some of the pork chops and they were lovely and tender, the rest will be cooked later in the week.

Then on Sunday we drove to Picton, just to sit in the sun and enjoy a coffee on the foreshore, and to stroll along the beach looking at the scenery, which we enjoyed, then started to drive home. We came apon a group of people clustered around something that looked kind of interesting, so in we drove to the carpark of the local hotel. In the back of the carpark there was a weigh-in of Wild Pigs for a pig hunting competition, as the young men were proudly displaying the pigs they had hunted. I took a photo of these brutes - the pigs not the young men.Haha.