Yesterday I took a decidedly harrowing taxi ride from Bouddha to Jocchne Tole (or Freak Street, as it was called in the 60's and 70's). Taxis here are barely distinguishable from regular beat-up hunks of junk, except that they may say "Taxi" somewhere on them. They're tiny, seat-belt-free (like Thailand!) Noddy cars from the 80's that seem like they're going to fall apart if your luggage is over a certain weight. Anyway, the way it works is, you negotiate the price, throw your stuff in the car, and hope to god(s) the driver actually understood your directions. Mine didn't, he mistook "Jhocchen Street" for "airport" - easy enough mistake, I suppose, so we pulled over to negotiate. I eventually found and pointed it out to him on the map, so we were off. At this point
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