Taxi drivers are bastards. For those of you who regularly call a taxi from Broadstairs back to the campus, you’ll know the old industry term, ‘Ajay’s’ I should imagine. I had rather taken to flounderingly describing where I wished to be taken, so the poor woman at the other end was barraged with a wealth of information, all of which had very little to do with the taxi driving business (“that place where… it’s like Christ Church… but not in Canter… yeah… yeah… yeah that’s the one”). It got to …