The unfortunate taxi driver

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Dear reader

I gave the destination when booking the taxi the night before. Seven o’clock in the morning we made it for. It was a 25 minute drive but I thought: better safe than sorry. The driver showed up at 7 am as agreed. He would have been in his late 60s, spoke English, but when he asked if I was going to Canberra airport I knew there had been a lack of communication. No, to X suburb, which is near Y. In fact, the opposite direction to the airport. Oh, he said. If I had known that I would have put it into the GPS beforehand.

As we were driving along, he tried entering the first two letters of the suburb name. But the wrong suburb came up on the display screen. And he didn’t know how to delete it and start again. He said he’d try again, with the street address, once we got closer. Then he said he’d bought the GPS the day before, and only practised with it in the shop. Well, we were making what seemed, in the early morning gloom, a very big detour. Why not just look up the most direct route to the suburb in the street directory, I suggested, just as something fell off the GPS onto the dashboard with a clonk. But the driver seemed reluctant to get the the street directory out of the side pocket. Didn’t he know how to read? He said he’d left his glasses at home. Finally he pulled out a dog eared directory and asked if I could read the street names out. But it was too dark. After a series of desperate right and left turns, he stopped outside a shop, and demanded that I ask a man crossing the car park for directions.

He sped along. I have a friend who lives this way, he said. This, he seemed to think, qualified him to find my destination. He also said he’d lived in the Canberra region 50 years. Where are we now, he asked me repeatedly. I have no idea, I said. I don’t know these parts. The meter was ticking. Mein gott, I fretted, I’ll never be able to afford this taxi fare. Don’t become hysterical, he said in a loud voice. I’ll get you there. Finally he turned the meter off. We stopped at an intersection. We’d found the suburb, now we just had to make our way through the maze of spaghetti streets.

I think we should go this way, I asserted. He countered: no we should go that way, pointing in the opposite direction. I indicated with my finger the street on page 70 in the directory, but I doubt he was able to see what I was pointing to. OK, we’ll do it your way, he conceded in a defeated kind of way. We continued on, and finally arrived, with 15 minutes to spare, at the suburban house where I was catching an 8 am bus with 20 others for a weekend trip to Eden on the south coast of New South Wales.

Now, let’s imagine this taxi ride taking place in Montevideo, in Spanish…Does it make you anxious? It does me. Here's some advice. Write down the street name and suburb. Draw a map if necessary. Note the best route via main roads. Never ever take it for granted that the driver knows where he’s going. Always carry a torch or flashlight. Bring your glasses if you need them. And make sure you know enough Spanish to argue your way through right and left turns!

Bye for now
Guapita

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Comments

[idriveyourcar.com]

Knowing Your Way
This sounds like a real nightmare, you expect the driver to know where they are going, but some of these cabbies are absolutely clueless. Even with GPS, they still can't figure it out. We had situation where one of our clients was in Mumbai, and they told us that the driver took them to the wrong airport. The sad thing is, our client didn't know until they actually showed up and he realized the sign did not match the airport on his ticket. Needless to say, he was very grateful he had trip insurance because he missed his flight.