Two taxi rides, two life lessons. Why asking one good question makes travel endlessly interesting.

Two taxi rides yesterday, and a reminder of something I try to practise whenever I’m given the opportunity. Talk to people. Properly talk to them.

Taxi drivers are a gift in that regard. You have time, you have proximity, and you have a captive audience on both sides. At some point, once basic rapport is established, I ask my favourite question.

"Nobody ever left school wanting to be a taxi driver. So what did you want to do, what did you end up doing, and how did you get here?"

The first driver, Paul, took me from home to Manchester Airport. He is 56 and has been driving for Uber for the last 12 months. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. He sold his previous business in logistics and transport and, in his words, he had 40 people working for him, which meant 40 problems to solve every day. He’s semi-retired now. His wife has retired from a clearing bank with a good pension. Between them they are financially independent, they can help their two daughters with house deposits, and they’ve made a decision that many business owners talk about but never enact. They are going on holiday once a month.

Twelve holidays a year, a mix of city breaks, cruises and Airbnb trips, across Europe, the Caribbean and the Far East. Paul drives when he’s home. Up at 4.30am, finished by 2pm, then golf or family time. He loves the stories, the variety, and the human contact. It was a masterclass in designing a life after business, without falling into boredom or pointless busyness.

A few hours later I landed in Belfast and met Ricky, who took me from George Best Belfast City Airport to my hotel through rush hour traffic. Ricky gave me a rolling history of Belfast from 1974 onwards, and then told me something I’d never heard before, the story of how West Belfast created its own transport system during the Troubles.

Buses were hijacked and burned, the bus companies refused to travel into the area, so local entrepreneurs travelled to London, bought second and third-hand black cabs, brought them back, and ran them as a bus service. Routes, stops, multiple passengers, community transport. Over time it grew into a network of more than 400 drivers.

Ricky got the youngest taxi licence in Belfast at 19 and has been at the heart of that community for 28 years.

Two drivers, two completely different lives, and a shared lesson. If you take time to listen, and you ask people to tell you their backstory, you end up richer in perspective every single time.