The Hackney Carriage has been synonymous with London since the days of horse-drawn hansoms and the swirling pea-souper, but Nick Hammond discovers that today’s chirpy cabbie, who has an opinion on everything, is under pressure as never before.
A SHINING black steed on a wintry day, a respite from a rain shower, a haven on a dark night and an instantly recognisable icon, the licensed hackney Carriage has always been more than just a ride around town. however, with increased travel options and the steady rise of services such as Uber, for the first time in centuries, our black cabbies are being pushed aside.
‘It isn’t what is used to be,’ admits graham Woodhouse, to much guffawing in a steam-fugged cab shelter in Kensington. ‘You used to be able to make a good living by working reasonable hours,’ he continues, unabashed. ‘nowadays, unless you diversify, you need to work all the hours god sends to keep your head above water. Young people are becoming less and less inclined to bother—and that’s not good for the future.’
Graham’s been a cabbie for the best part of 25 years and he’s also a member of the Worshipful Company of hackney Carriage Drivers, which was given its first charter by Oliver Cromwell, no less. it was granted a Royal Charter in 2013.
We agree to meet in one of a handful of remaining official cab shelters in the capital and scurry from the pouring rain into the sanctuary of the little shed. You may have spotted these green wooden shacks dotted around London, but they can only be entered by licensed hackney Carriage drivers (mere mortals must make do with a takeaway from a side window). Only half a dozen or so drivers at a time can squeeze in here for a 20-minute pit stop and chinwag.
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