Black Cab School Run

I don't suppose many people can say they were delivered to primary school in a London black cab... well, not in the Somerset countryside anyhow.

I suppose I had quite an obscure childhood - living in the middle of nowhere and having parents who didn't want to send us to the closest, most average of village schools. They wanted to send us to Enmore C of E Primary, which was around 6 miles from our cottage. This caused a few catchment-area problems. We were not alone though, my parents closest friends who had two boys the same age as my sister and I were also gunning for Enmore too.

So, somehow, we were entitled to transport via taxi to school. I do not remember exactly when the black cab made an entrance into our young lives - before that we had had 'Colin Cowpat' (obviously named for his distinctly bovine odour), a quiet man with wiry hair a bit like Gene Wilder in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, alternated with Ray who smelt of really cheap aftershave and looked a bit like what the biker from The Village People would have looked like if he'd sat in a car all his life.

Even now when I return to North Petherton to visit mum, Colin Cowpat and Ray can often be identified cruising the village in their (possibly) updated rides. Imagine some of the sights and sounds they must have witnessed since my childhood!

So, for some time, Lilli, Tom, Richard and I shared this weird environment with our chariot drivers... I don't really remember if there was much chit-chat, but I do know that we all dreaded the days that the black cab appeared to collect us. Black cab driver was an archetypal 90s boy-racer... probably into the rave scene and definitely not concerned about our lives. Cabs are big, especially when you're under ten years old. If a cab is tearing down country lanes twice over the speed limit with four little bodies in the back - there's no way of keeping in your seat. I definitely remember white knuckles featured quite regularly. 'No Limits' by the Euro dance duo 2 Unlimited also featured very heavily - at top volume. Ekkk.

Boy racer didn't speak to us through the plastic division. Inside we were probably all thinking we were going to die... perhaps we did shout out for him to slow down, but I doubt he ever heard or cared. Bring back Colin Cowpat or Ray - please!

That was one of many quirky school transport issues we faced. Another rather scarring one that sticks in my mind is the times when no taxis where available (or perhaps we weren't entitled to them any more?) and the car wouldn't start in winter. On those dire days, we'd get up extra early and have to cycle (regardless of snow/rain/wind factors) to Richard and Tom's farm - a good two/three miles up and down some ferocious hills, in order to catch a lift with them.

Getting to secondary school was almost as perilous... more later.