As we left the customer at 3 am on Wednesday night the taxi driver wasn’t sparing the horses. The trip, which had taken 45 minutes in a colleagues car (at perfectly reasonable slightly too fast speeds) was completed in a 25 – 30 minute burn, punctuated only by a series of sudden episodes of hard braking / hard re-acceleration as his GPS warned of speed cameras.

During the journey I chatted to my colleague about drivers, and more to the point, who is the best driver at our office in Shanghai. I claimed that my driver was the best because he was careful and took few risks (in the UK he would still be cautioned on a daily basis by the police).

“He is not a good driver” my colleague giggled, “he drives far too slowly”.

“So, who is the best driver then?” I asked

“I think X” (our newest colleague)

“Why him?” I replied

“Because he can drive VERY fast but he is also very skillful, he drives so close to the car in front that their bumpers are almost touching”

I think about saying something but what’s the point, so I spend the rest of the journey looking out of the window at Betelnut girls flashing past in momentary oases of flashing lights.

As we pull up to the hotel the driver apologises for driving quickly “I have much more control when I drive quickly” he says…