Sometimes people ask me: "what is the strangest thing that has ever happened to you, as a taxi-driver? " it's difficult to answer. but one of the funniest things that ever happened to me was in november 1962, the year of the great fog. foreigners always think britain is covered in a blanket of fog every winter from october to march. it's not really so. but in november and december 1962, we did have some bad fogs in the first night the fog came down very suddenly. i was driving someone from piccadilly to richmond. i took my usual short way through richmond park. it's a nice place symbol 45 \f "symbol" \s 12 quite wild, with clumps of big trees, ponds, and herds of deer. at week-ends people go there for picnics, and every evening men go there to run. to run? yes symbol 45 \f "symbol" \s 12 men practising for cross-country races. 'harriers', they call them. well, we overtook a group of these harriers, running through the park. "not my favourite sport," i said to my fare. i left my fare at her house and went off again for london. out of habit, i turned into richmond park again. i soon understood that i was wrong. the fog was really thick. the further i drove into the park, the thicker the fog became. i switched on my fog lamp. it didn't help much. suddenly i saw something standing on the road in front of me. i stopped. the figure moved away. it was a deer. coughing slightly, i tied my scarf over my mouth and went off again. then i saw another- figure on the road. it stood there in the light of my fog lamp wearing shorts, a white vest and running shoes. it was one of the harriers! i stopped and wound down my window. the man, coughing, put his head in. "terribly sorry! we are lost! " "jump in! " i said. "haven't i seen you here before? " "there are 15 of us! " he said. переведите
