On Thursday morning, I left the house an hour before I was due to be at Paddington station. I reasoned that should be enough time to get a cab from the minicab office next to Kilburn station, even on tube strike day. Er, what minicab office? It has closed down. Shit! Shit! Shit!

The bus stops on Shoot Up Hill were so busy that I stood no chance of getting on a bus, so I ran to Willesden Lane. Three buses came and went, not allowing anyone on. One or two cabs came and went, their lights off, smug passengers in the back. I now had half an hour to my train, and no visible means of getting there.

I wasn't in the best of moods when a woman in an open-topped BMW pulled up in front of me. "If she's going to ask me for directions," I thought to myself, "I'll tell her where to go."

But she didn't want directions: "I can take one person," she said, "hop in!"

And so, thanks to the kindness of strangers, I arrived at the station in style, with minutes to spare. Monica, if ever you read this, thank you, thank you, thank you.