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Red menace

It's common, scientifically backed knowledge that the more you do something the better you get at it. It's all to do with neural connections, which become strengthened by repetition. So why is it that after 3,600 hours practice a year - bearing in mind we only sleep about 2,400 hours over the same period - some Hong Kong taxi drivers are so terrible at their job? There are some great cabbies out there, of course, but they seem to be in a minority.

The worst offender is the heavy-shoe-on-a-spring variety, who moves in a series of nauseating lurches. Then there's the myopic crawler, who veers across lanes in front of speeding trucks and overtakes on blind corners, all at 25km/h. What about Mr Nervous, who brakes violently whenever he meets something coming the other way? And his opposite, Mr Schumacher, who appears to want his vehicle to mate with the speeding Porsche in front.

Taxis are cheap in Hong Kong compared with London, for example, but you get what you pay for. The archetypal Cockney cabbies charge a hefty fee but they really know their stuff and driving becomes second nature; they can do it in their sleep. I once had a driver who could boast the same skill. The cab stopped with an apparent break down on Shek O Road but the strange scraping noise coming from the front was just gentle snoring.

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