My new favourite cab driver

I've gotten to know a tall Punjabi taxi driver called Amarjit who drives a van more suited to a very short paneer-munching taxi driver than a man raised on the flesh of lambs and chickens. He crouches in the front and hugs the steering wheel as he weaves through traffic. His life story is unusual. Growing up in Punjab he lusted for adventure and ran away to Europe. For 15 years he was a baker in Amsterdam, learnt dutch and got married to a glamorous Moroccan woman. He talks wistfully about the happy times. Then it all went pear shaped - her family had issues with his religion (three years into the marriage), he refused to convert, the Dutch authorities cottoned-on to his long holiday in the Netherlands and he was sent home. Finding himself alone in a city that preferred naan to sour dough, he reverted to driving taxis. Now he's in the hunt for a nice Indian girl to marry - but not too young. She should be 30-35 - he'd prefer "good nature" to "good looking." Keep your eyes out. In the meantime, I'm trying to pursuade him there are breadeaters aplenty in this city who'd happily drive across town for his sour dour.