My chat with the taxi driver from Saisbury train station to a nearby barracks covered the reason for my visit, his father’s service in the Royal Air Force, and global security issues before we discussed and arranged him picking me up later to get me back to the station in time for my return train to London.

On completion of my business – a few hours of instructing (aka teaching) – I arrived at the pick up point a couple of minutes before the agreed rendezvous time and found the taxi driver already there. I worked out his father must have told him “being on time is being five minutes early”. My thanks for his punctuality was followed by him telling me he had checked the train times and found an earlier, faster and more convenient with no changes train to London, and that he was confident he could get me to the station for it. Did his father also tell him that “time spent on reconnaissance is never time wasted”?

Anyway, ‘Hawk Eye Kabia’ had noticed on the trip to the barracks that the temple arms of his spectacles had a guitar neck complete with headstock embossed on them, and had to ask a question.

“You must be a music lover, right?”

“I am indeed”.

“Your glasses told me that”.

“Ah, yes, but there’s more to my glasses than just loving music. You see, my surname is Presley and research my sister paid for found Elvis Presley was our fifth cousin”.

Thoughts about impressing him with my powers of observation flew out of the slightly open window as he told me people never believe him until he shows them a photo of his grandson who looks very much like a teenage Elvis Presley. I loved the story about him and his wife visiting his cousin’s place in Memphis, and the disbelieving laughter that rippled through the other visitors as the tour guide checked the names of his party and got to “Mr and Mrs Presley”.

As I got out of the taxi at the train station he gave me his business card and said “let me know whenever you are coming to town and I’ll be happy to take you to the barracks”. As I only had a couple of minutes to my rescheduled train, it was a quick goodbye followed by a sprint up the ramp to the platform and into the waiting train.

As the train pulled out of the station I wondered if any of the many school kids in my carriage knew enough about Elvis Presley to appreciate why I felt and probably looked close to “All Shook Up”.

© Othame Kabia