To this end, I was allowed to travel around London employing the fastest method of transport, whether it be the tube train or a London black cab. I was given a small expense account, enough to pay fares on buses or the Tube, and if I needed to use a Cab I would get the "Mirror" doormen to settle the fares. It was a very exciting life and I loved every minute of it.
The London Cab drivers were (in their own way) wonderful tour guides; what they didn't know about London just wasn't worth knowing. I would sit in the back of their Cabs whilst they would keep up an informative dialogue on every historical monument, building, or district we drove through.
During my jaunts around London, I was constantly amazed by the unending historical sites and layer upon layer of this great towns' foundations: from the remains of Roman occupation, through the Iceni revolt led by Boudicca, the English Civil War, and two World Wars, over 2000 years of English History, a fascinating collage of bricks and mortar seeped in history.
"Look!" my cab driver guide would say, "this is one of the walls built by the Roman invaders. It would have run up to Aldgate, just one of the seven city gates they built: Aldgate; Bishopsgate; Cripplegate; Aldersgate; Newgate; Ludgate.” (Moorgate was not strictly an original, quite modern, having been built about 1415.) "Hey, look over the road! In that church are the mummified remains of a cat believed to have belonged to of one of London's most famous mayors: Dick Whittington."
After a while, and a little laughter (although this story is perfectly true) the cabbie would continue: "This building is the banqueting Hall, King Charles I was beheaded just here." He would point to the middle of the road. "Must have caused a bit of a hold up," I would quip. "Well, of course, the buses never used to run along here in those days," he would retort.
"Just over Southwark Bridge, Samuel Pepys watched as the great fire swept through London.There was Bankside of course, the Globe theatre, the Bear baiting pit—a bit of local entertainment, in case you got fed up with the hanging up at the Borough; there was once even a Rat baiting pit (dogs would wait whilst dozens of rats were freed into the pit, and the onlookers would make wagers on the time taken for the dog to finish them all off)."
As many historical facts as you could wish to know, and all you had to say to your knowledgeable cabbie was, "What is that building over there called?" Then I would just sit back and enjoy.
Probably the finest books about this wonderful City have been written by Peter Ackroyd, and I would recommend them most highly; I think he could give my cab drivers a run for their money!!
When I was courting as a young boy, my now wife and I would take long walks in the evenings through the city streets and along the river, and we would seldom meet a soul. The city was devoid of people at night, save for office cleaners and the like. It was a strange but comforting being a very small part of it all.
John Robertson