Be honest! Who knew there used to be a Taxi Shelter in Piccadilly opposite Bolton Street ?

It was colloquially known as “The Junior Turf Club”.

AGAINST the trees of Green Park, which it matches exactly in colour, by the edge of the roadway stood the Junior Turf Club. 

Many years ago after hearing reports that the shelter was serving all forms of night life, Westminster Council said that, if the Junior Turf desired to hand out sausages to the nobility it would have either to pay rates…or shut its doors; plus the people who lived over the way said, although they loved life and laughter they hated the noise in the middle of the night. 

So the Junior Turf Club, being not only a cabman's shelter, but the most famous shelter in London, pulled itself together and decided to keep its sausages within the bounds of the hut, to be legal and proper. Not to be beat, cabbies often used to carry out food and drinks to their fares, keeping a low profile in the cab. 

Taxicab drivers, following the ancient custom, could eat roast beef at any time of the day or night. The Junior Turf always smelt hearty.

There was said to be a pre-cocktail era relish about it. 

Just to smell the food in the middle of the night, would make you  feel hungry. 

At the height of its day, London was a city without a night club.

The Junior Turf, stood so modestly on the edge of the road just shy of the Ritz and was the humble parent of all the gilded dens which add to the expensive boredom of modern times. It was the grandfather of Ciro's and the Embassy.

“Where can I get something to eat cabby?” Said the fare. 

'You come along o' me, captain” would be the reply.

That, so they tell me, is how it used to go on,

The cabby, sensing a meal at the expense of his fare, would whip up the horse and make haste for the Junior Turf.

While all London was a black desolation, the little green Junior Turf shone like a good deed in a hungry world.

It is whispered that, now and then, a beggar by the park rails would peer into a cab in those old, far-off days and see the bearded face of a royal prince who, homeward bound after a late party, who had stopped at the Junior Turf for a cup of coffee which the palace couldn’t provide at 3 a.m. 

Loosely translated from the book “The Spell Of London” by the journalist Henry Canova Vollam Morton…originally published in 1926. 

With thanks to Stanley Rolf 

TAXI LEAKS EXTRA BIT:

MISS SUSAN DUDLEY RYDER, LONDON'S FIRST LADY TAXI DRIVER!

Miss Ryder enjoyed the distinction of being London's first lady taxi-driver, and having passed all the driving tests satisfactorily could be seen driving her cab in London.

Miss Ryder was a cousin of Lord Harrowby and a sister of Mrs. Gavin, the champion lady golfer.