Flag down a Karma Kab before they vanish

‘‘She was meeting up with Stella McCartney for dinner in Notting Hill and we took her there in our Shishmahal Kar. She just absolutely loved it,’’ says Tobias Moss, the 1960s Goa tripper, whose brainchild the cab fleet is.

If you’re in London’s most cinematically hip neighbourhood, enter the surreal, hippy chic cocoon of a Karma Kab—refurbished old Ambassador cars from India converted into psychedelic taxis. Pick from seats in leopard skin, fuchsia silk and sequins or even one with a beaded chandelier. And try some yogic exercises with the driver, take a whiff of the incense or have your tarot cards read while you’re stuck in traffic.

But be quick, before they go off the road.

After this Wednesday, Johanssen, Kate Moss, John Malkovich, Ismail Merchant, Mira Nair, Naseeruddin Shah, Jude Law and the other countless celebrities who have taken a trip in the world’s only Taoist taxi may well find that the mystical journeys are no longer on the cards.

The London Public Carriage Office is sitting to decide if these vehicles should be steered off course for a dozen reasons from inflammable inner material to mosaic ceilings.

‘‘They’re trying to wrap bureaucratic tape around true art,’’ complains Tobias Moss, ‘‘they don’t have a heart, these people, so they don’t really understand what we are about.’’

If the Public Carriage office has its way, Moss’ kaleidoscope-on-wheels service won’t be able to ply the streets of the English capital anymore. A bit of a shame for a taxi service that has even been to Buckingham Palace though Moss won’t reveal which royal took a karma journey. ‘‘Let’s just say we’ve driven royalty,’’ he says. He is less reluctant to talk about the appearance of a Karma Kab in the popular soap Coronation Street. Corrie, as it is more fondly known, saw its first Indian wedding this month and a Karma Kab was the main centrepiece. ‘‘My car was in every tabloid!’’ beams Moss. ‘‘It was the first time I watched the show.’’

If the cars are colourful, Moss is the penultimate 1960s flower child even in the 1990s. He professes to love the Himalayas, women and meditation with equal intensity and still rushes off every few months to Goa, a destination where he met his wife Heather Allen about 25 years ago.

‘‘I was in India on and off for over six years,’’ he reminisces. ‘‘I was going out with a Ghanaian princess and tripping with Timothy Leary’s sunshine boys. At one point I even landed up in Calcutta for a week without any money because the Indian President had just died and they closed all the banks.’’

Always philosophically correct, Karma Kabs are run on the belief that it’s the journey rather than the destination that counts. ‘‘Once you get into a Karma kab you’re already there,’’ claims the owner. And there’s no rush hour in a Karma Kab.

You can choose from a fleet of four kabs with inspired names such as Ab Fab Kar and Monsoon Wedding. It’s about 50 quid for an hour. Of course, not everyone’s a fan. Mira Nair, who was sent a cab for the opening of the India night at the Selfridges show said she found the experience ‘‘very flamboyant and colourful, but ultimately borrowed from desi culture’’.