SOMETIMES I am asked by customers if I will take a job on a Sunday, concerned as some of them are about my observance of the fourth commandment 'Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy'.

It is gratifying that they are cognisant of my often barely adequate attempts to observe my faith.

However, in the world of self employed taxi driving, it is pretty much necessary to take all work offered.

But I did keep the Sabbath day holy, with not only attendance at Holy Communion itself, but also at The Assistant Curate’s training session afterwards, for new chalice bearers, during which I was delighted to add a new word to my vocabulary: epiclesis.

So it was on Sunday evening that, fortified by both a day’s sleep and the rites of the holy church, I set off for a night on the road.

"Look," I said to my customer as we drove through Abingdon town centre, late Sunday night, “There are no taxis on the rank and seven people waiting,” a rare occurrence.

As we drove past, despite my roof light being off and the taxi being full of people, there were shouted attempts to flag me down.

Every bank holiday, a familiar pattern of work plays itself out on the streets of Abingdon. Effectively, the on-demand Saturday night business is transferred to Sunday night, and those who have taken advantage of the extra day’s holiday to indulge in an excess of alcohol can no doubt sleep it off on the Monday.

This Monday, we drove all night, from darkness into light. And at the end of a shift which had encompassed Heathrow, Abingdon, Bicester, Birmingham Airport, Witney and Grove, I awaited the last passenger of the night for Gloucester Green, when there was an outstanding sunrise over Abingdon Bridge.

One of the best aspects of earning a living from taxi driving is the lack of regularity in working hours, having to take breaks and meals when they occur.

A few hours into my shift, there was an opportunity for just such a break, with a meal at a pub in Bicester, where customers were sat around in front of televisions showing European election results.

This pub is part of a national chain, each of which has carpets woven to an individually designed pattern on the floor. Someone I met on Twitter wrote a book about the carpets and hired me to drive him in the real world, to some of their local branches. He acknowledges me in print as having taught him more about Oxfordshire in an afternoon than he could have read in books.

It is always gratifying when any customer acknowledges what we do for them. But great taxi driving is as much about learning from the customers, as it is about what we can do in an altruistic manner to help them.